#I don’t feel like tagging all those flyers

[eiidolon]

Happy playoffs gang I come bearing more goofs. Gafs, even (7/?)

[crossbackpoke-check]

what are ur thoughts on the winners room trope?

ooooo okay surface level analysis: i like winner’s room fics :)

etwas tieferes: i think it’s cool that it’s (afaik) unique to hockey fandom and i enjoy the way it integrates a lot of unspoken rules in hockey with desire/makes them a physical/tangible reality… also the narrative potentials/world-building it opens up can be fun because there’s not really a set of rules for the “winner’s room” trope. are there in-universe rules? who gets chosen? who’s exempt? who gets to pick? where’s it going down? is it the entire room or one guy? what if your (ex)boyfriend is on another team? does somebody need to be taught a lesson or do you need to remind someone who got traded you still love them? also, most important, winner’s room gives you the chance to put two random-ass guys you saw interact for 0.002 seconds and went “hmmm. interesting” about into a Situation and i love that

[revelboo]

Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍

Aww! Thank you so much!

I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.

Everything is Alright Pt 32

Starscream x Reader-guardian

• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.

• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.

• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.

• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.

• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.

• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.

• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.

• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.

• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.

• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.

Previous Next

[irisintheafterglow]

what if all i need is you? (college bsf!suguru x you)

summary: after failed attempts to find a date to a relative's birthday party, your best friend acts as your fake boyfriend.

wc: 2.8k

cw/tags: fake dating, best friends to lovers, first kiss, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (wears makeup and heels), swearing, mentions of drinking and smoking, reader is kinda mean at the beginning but they're just stressed, satoru being satoru

note: back on my suguru bullshit! hope you enjoy :))

likes, replies, and reblogs are appreciated <33

“You remember the plan?”

“Yep, I had it down the third and fourth times you repeated it.” You send him a glare out of the corner of your vision, carefully pulling the mascara wand up across your lashes. The dim car lights weren’t the ideal environment to finish getting ready, but whatever time you could waste out here was time you didn’t have to spend at the party. 

“It’s all there. $250, like we agreed,” you say without looking at him as he flips through the stack of money from the yellow package hiding in the glove compartment. “I’m not giving you more, so don’t ask.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he reassures you, watching as you tensely tap fine glitter onto the inner corners of your eyes and spread it over your cheekbones. He inhales and you already anticipate what he was going to say. “You know, I really shouldn’t be taking your money–”

“I don’t care that you don’t want the money, Suguru. It makes me feel better, so please, shut up and take it,” you state for what felt like the tenth time. He sighs in defeat, eyeing you like you were a tiger pacing around a cramped cage in a zoo. Having your best friend go with you as your fake date to a relative’s birthday party both complicated and simplified things at the same time, which made you all the more tense for what might happen. 

Date me for a month and earn $250! No commitment, no long-term relationships! Call me at (XXX) XXX-XXX for more info! is what the flyers that you stuck to the bulletin boards around campus proclaimed. It was a last-ditch effort to find a date to your grandmother’s cousin’s birthday party and a direct result of your family being too curious about your dating life in college. The plan was simple, in your head. You would find a random person to pretend to date for a month, bring them to the party, and then break up with them a week later. No harm done and no questions asked, right?  

“Any takers on that dating flyer yet?” 

“No,” you groan, letting your forehead hit the desk with a dull thud. It was harder than you thought it would be to find someone to act as your fake boyfriend. “All they want is sex or to negotiate a higher pay. They think I’m a hooker or a trust fund baby, I guess.”

“I can confirm that you are neither of those things,” he chuckles from the other side of the line. “Unless, you have some news to tell me.” You snort and shake your head, taking notice of the darkness outside your window. It must have been hours since you first started your phone call with Suguru and forced him to help you through a homework assignment, and the rumbling in your stomach was becoming a little more insistent. 

“Shit. It’s late, so I’ll let you go. Sorry for keeping you for so long.” You start to tidy the various study sheets and highlighters scattered across your desk, carefully straightening the polaroid of you, Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko on the day of your high school graduation. “Thanks for helping me, even though I’m gonna forget all of this in a few hours.”

“I don’t mind teaching you again. Have you eaten yet? Because I’m starving.” The rumbling in your stomach becomes more of a growl at the mere mention of food and you silently curse him for reminding you that all you had in the cupboard was instant noodles. “If you say no and then proceed to make those sodium bombs you call food, I’m gonna hit you with an inflatable mallet.”

“Okay,” you reply. “Then, I won’t tell you.”

“Smartass,” he mutters and you hear the clinking of his car keys being grabbed from off the hook above his desk. “I’ll be there in ten. Grab a jacket; it’s chilly out.” Twenty minutes later, you’re bundled up in a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop near campus, barely able to eat from sheer anxiety. It was a shitty situation you’d found yourself in and the only way to get through it unscathed would be to disappear off the face of the planet. Your best friend seems to notice you poke at your noodles with your chopsticks and sets down his pair with a determined look. “Alright, what’s bothering you?” You shrug and avoid his eyes, leaning back into the dark corner of the booth. 

“Nothing,” you mumble and he raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m just stressed about this stupid party thing.”

“Remind me why you need a date for this in the first place?”

“My grandma’s cousin is super old. Like, one foot in the grave old,” you state plainly and some water shoots out of Suguru’s nose as he tries to cover a laugh. “I’m serious! I’ve never known her and, from what I can gather, no one really likes her anyways.” You hand him a clean napkin with a small, amused smile while he continues to cough uncontrollably, humming at the small thank you he manages to choke out. “But, my family wants me to at least act like I have a boyfriend for the night so she can have peace of mind.” You give him a knowing look and it takes him a few seconds to put the pieces together.

“Wait, your family wants you to pretend to have a boyfriend so your grandma’s cousin can die at peace?” You nod slowly and his face contorts into something like horror and shock, unsure of whether to laugh or feel sorry for you. “Shit. Sorry, I mean–”

“No, it’s okay,” you giggle. “You can laugh. It’s fucking ridiculous. To be fair, they just told me to find a boyfriend. They didn’t specify how long we had to be together.”

“And that’s why you put the flyers up,” he concludes, “to hire someone to play your boyfriend for the night.” You nod again and he shakes his head. “You’re out of your mind.” Your jaw drops in indignance and you threaten to drop an ice cube in his ramen in retaliation.

“I think it’s a pretty smart idea,” you argue.

“What if the guy catches feelings?”

“Sucks for him. I’m not paying him to fall in love with me,” you reply bluntly and Suguru shakes his head in disbelief. “What? Is what I’m doing wrong? I’m only seeing it as a business transaction, plain and simple.”

“A business transaction that hasn’t actually transacted yet, and the party is when?” You feel your face start to heat in embarrassment. He made a good point.

“Tomorrow,” you mumble. “The party’s tomorrow night.” 

“See? There’s no way you’re gonna find someone good enough in time.” 

“Well, what do you propose I do? Skip it entirely and kill the old lady early?”

“That’s definitely not what I was suggesting,” he corrects. “What if you just…took me instead?” You freeze, a little shocked by his idea. It was true that a certain amount of attraction existed in you towards your best friend, something that you swore never to act on for fear of losing his friendship. You never bothered asking if he felt the same because you knew him too well; you knew how he was around girls he liked, even though the last one was when you both were in high school. Sure, it was possible that he started liking you once you started college, just like you noticed him in a different light during your first semester. But either way, you were resigned to letting the feelings come and go as they usually did. Except, the feelings hadn’t left for three years. “Are you silent because you’re mortified or silent because you’re thinking it over?”

“A little bit of both,” you admit.

“How so?”

“You do know my family has been wanting us to get together for years now, right?” An unreadable look passes over Suguru’s face, a look that you can’t decipher even after knowing him for so long. 

“I’m well aware. Your parents have pulled me aside several times trying to pass along family heirlooms to use when I inevitably get on one knee.” Your eye twitches and you make a mental reminder to scold your family when you see them next. “But why is that an issue?” Truthfully, it wasn’t that much of an issue if you set aside your own feelings. Having Suguru there meant that he already knew the dynamics of your family, how to handle your relatives, and had a general grasp of what to expect at the party. It simplified things, but your own harbored feelings complicated any thought of acting like a couple. It would feel too real and you knew how much it would hurt when the clock struck midnight and you went back to being friends. That’s a little too much to unpack over ramen, though. 

“I just don’t want them making you uncomfortable,” is what you settle with telling him. Something like disappointment blinks across his face, but disappears just as fast as it comes. It’s replaced with a wry smile, one that makes your head fuzzy and stomach bubbly. 

“They won’t. My only focus is you,” he promises before launching into a new conversation about his latest biochem project. Now, ten minutes after your heels crossed the threshold of the front door, Suguru was doing a little too good of a job of only focusing on you. Even though the music of the venue blares and there’s enough family and friends to stampede you like poor Mufasa in the Lion King, Suguru doesn’t seem to care about any of it. He falls into his role as your ‘boyfriend’ as easily as the last piece of a puzzle being maneuvered into place, holding your hand with a steady grip, then snaking it around your waist, and sending you fond smiles when nobody's watching. Your parents are delighted, to say the least, and drag him away from you at the first available moment. You settle in a corner of the ballroom with a small plate of pickings from the dessert table and wait for him to return from his interrogation with your parents. 

“It’s about time you two got together,” a familiar, sing-songy voice says quietly from over your shoulder and you flinch, instinct telling you to stab him with your ornate plastic fork. You turn and find your other best friend wearing a tie and a shit-eating grin, tucking a silver hors d'oeuvres tray under a lanky arm.

“Satoru! What the fuck are you doing here?” You glance around to see if anyone has noticed you recognizing a random waiter and, thankfully, everyone is too engrossed in gossiping about your fake boyfriend for the night.

“I’m Suguru’s backup just in case things go south,” he drawls and you pinch the bridge of your nose with two fingers. “Here to cause a scene if something goes wrong.”

“You’re here to sabotage my relative’s birthday party?”

“Here to potentially sabotage your relative’s birthday party.” He sticks up his index finger in emphasis and you groan, rolling your eyes and popping another small brownie into your mouth. He copies you, plucking a cupcake from your plate and swallowing it in one bite. “I gotta say, it took you long enough. I’ve been in agony watching this entire thing pan out.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Are you high?”

“Not right now, no, but maybe later.” He shoots you a grin even though you know full and well none of you smoke. “I’m just saying that I’m happy you’ve finally realized your feelings for each other.” 

“What feelings? There’s no feelings,” you lie straight through your teeth and he sees through it like glass. 

“I may be stupid, but I’m not blind. If you don’t see that Suguru likes you back, then you’re the one with vision problems. Sucks for you.” He shrugs and you flick his arm lightly, glaring daggers at him but unable to fight down the curiosity poking at the back of your mind. 

“You think he actually likes me back?”

“He’s liked you since senior year, idiot,” he scoffs like your question was a funny joke. “I’m not here to fill in if he gets food poisoning from the questionable shrimp cocktail; I’m here to support either of you if your feelings get in the way and your dumbasses can’t communicate efficiently.” 

“That’s…really thoughtful of you, Satoru,” you mutter and he raises one eyebrow teasingly. 

“Wasn’t my idea. It was Suguru’s. ‘In case something happens and they’re not comfortable with me taking them home, for whatever reason.’ That’s what he made me promise and why I’m pretending to be a waiter for the night.” His attention darts upward to his best friend approaching your table and he pats your shoulder encouragingly. “Speaking of. Go get your man.”

“I hate you, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” He knocks his shoulder against yours before disappearing into the kitchen, on his way to probably steal a bottle from the wine cellar. 

“Uh oh, looks like you’ve found my undercover operative,” he jokes as he sets a drink in front of you and steals a cookie from your plate. 

“Actually, he’s the one who found me. You should fire that guy for blowing his own cover,” you remark and the corner of Suguru’s mouth turns up into a smirk. “It’s nice of you to ask him to be here in case something went wrong.”

“I’m an engineering major. We plan for the worst case scenarios.”

“What’s the best case scenario?” His eyebrows furrow in question but you don’t relent. No turning back now. “What’s the ideal outcome of this situation, besides the money?” He thinks for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek when a slow song starts playing through the loudspeakers. 

“Dance with me,” he replies, holding out his hand for you to take. Way to change the subject. “Please?”

“You’re not getting out of my question.” You let him lead you to the dance floor, trying not to get goosebumps as one of his hands finds your waist and the other laces his fingers with yours. “Why’d you offer to do this with me, anyway?”

“What, dancing? Or coming with you to the party?”

“Second one.” That unreadable look crosses his face again, the same one from the ramen shop when he first brought up being your fake date. It felt like anything he said was just covering up a truth that you both were dancing around; but, something in the air made you want to face that truth tonight.

“Because I’m your friend,” he murmurs and you can’t help feeling a little let down by his answer. You let it show in your face, but he’s avoiding your eyes. “That’s what friends do for each other.” He clears his throat and tries to blow a stray strand of black hair from his face, going deathly still when your own fingers brush it away and tuck it behind his ear.

“We’re just friends?”

“What do you–”

“What if I wanna be more?” His eyes finally snap to meet yours and his pupils are blown wider than you’d ever seen before, deep and dark and staring at you so intensely, you’re glad he’s supporting your waist. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his gaze flicking up and down between your eyes and your lips. 

“I don’t wanna mess this up,” he whispers so quietly that you wouldn’t hear it if you weren’t inches away from his face. “I don’t wanna mess up what we have.”

“I don’t think we would be messing it up,” you point out just as softly. “If anything, we’d be making it better.” His thumb comes up to trace the outline of your jaw, sending chills up your spine.

“Are you sure that you want this with me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I don’t know, because I feel like I don’t deserve you and–”

“Okay, stop talking,” is the last thing you say before you tilt your head up to press your lips against his. You’re careful and frustratingly gentle, giving him ample opportunity to pull away and reject you. But, to your delight, he kisses back with more fervor than you, like he’d been waiting for years to experience this feeling. He sighs into your mouth as you grab the collar of his button up and pull him even closer, his hands holding firm at your waist until you pull away to breathe. 

“Make sure you take down those flyers once we’re back on campus,” he breathes into your ear. You let your eyes flutter shut and hum in assent, leaning your head against his. 

“Why do you bring them up?”

“Because your fake boyfriend just got promoted to real boyfriend.” You initially dismiss the single click and bright flash as the photo booth serving its clients, but are also equally unsurprised when Suguru meets you outside your 9:00 A.M with a Polaroid between his fingers of you two dancing at the party. And the caption?

First kiss! (Taken by Gojo Satoru, ultimate wingman)

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[courtingchaos]

Feast

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Steve, past Eddie x Steve (set in my Line Cook Eddie AU)

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: It’s a Graveyard Lake House Smash 🎃

A/N: When I tell you Woof, I mean WOOF. I don’t want to tell you all how long I’ve had this sitting in the crockpot. It’s surprising it didn’t turn to ash. Instead I got this! Struck by what I can only describe as mania I was able to finish this and edit it all with the help of @jo-harrington . Now I have many many MANY people to thank for this even being an idea for me to play around with and I won’t fill this page up with a bunch of tags. Those of you that were there for its inception know and that’s what matters. Talk about a fucking labor of love. I pulled this out of my own viscera, I hope you like it ❤️ (Also, reference is made to the fic Strawberry if you guys want to go look at that smut too, but it is not needed.)

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine, weed), Drinking, DVP, Unprotected sex, Sex while under the influence

NSFW 18+ No Minors

“Oh this is cute.” The flyer invite is bright orange and full of Eddie’s little doodles.

“Yeah? You like it?” Eddie leans over your shoulder. “Made it all by myself.”

“You even signed it, look at you.” You grab his chin and give it a wiggle before he plants a kiss on your cheek.

“Obviously we’re invited. I’ve got my costume all planned out already.” He heads into the bedroom and misses you pulling a face.

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I won’t be there.”

His head sticks out around the doorframe, “What?”

“Yeah, too many requests off. I gotta close.”

“Okay? You’re off at what, 9:30?” Eddie waves you off before disappearing in the bedroom. “I’ll pick you up and we can be to Steve’s by 10, 10:30. Piece of cake, piece of crumb cake.” He does his best Father Guido from inside his closet and it makes you laugh.

“I’m gonna be tired, Ed.”

“And I’m gonna have weed.” He reappears with a different hoodie on.

You huff. “I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll find you one.”

“I hate bagged stuff!” You aren’t really arguing with him, just pushing his buttons enough to see where his exasperation will take him. It sends his arms over his head while he goes headlong into all the costumes you could put together with the shit in your own closet.

“So no bagged stuff! You could pull off a Nancy Downs or a Sidney.”

“Will you go as Stu?”

Eddie stands like he’s upset with you, arms crossed and voice dropping low for a moment. “You know damn well I’d have to go as Billy. Plus,” he flits his hand beside his face, “like I said I already have my costume.”

“You won’t tell me?” You don’t even fake your pout. “I need help with an idea! Come on!”

“It’s a surprise!” He shakes your shoulder and when you don’t stand he hauls you up by your hand so you can finally run errands for the day. “Look, when we’re done at the store I’ll help you dig through your shit and piece something together.”

By store he really meant every shop in town with a Halloween section and only a quick run into a grocery store for mac and cheese. One of your last stops is at a Party City where you’re staring at the wall of masks feeling a little dejected. Halloweens haven’t felt fun in a while and this one was shaping up to be just as disappointing. You’re eying one of those big articulated scarecrow masks when Eddie comes bounding up to you with a clutch of cellophane in his hands.

“I figured it out.” Is all he says before practically skipping back the way he came, right into the latex and spirit gum section.

“Ed I don’t want to do a whole thing, especially if I can’t wear it at work.”

“No this is easy shit, it goes on like a temporary tattoo.” He holds one of the thin packs up against your face before shaking his head and tossing it back on a hook. Another one he’s been clutching skims your cheek and his eyes light up. “No this is perfect.”

“You gonna let me in on this little secret?” You crane your neck to see what he has. “Is that a pentagram?”

“Do you still have that cheer skirt?”

You think you might know what he’s getting at. “The black and red one?”

He nods his head and picks up a packet of ‘fresh’ colored blood.

“Yeah.” And with that he’s off down the aisle again, beelining for the color coded tailgating section.

“If they have them in stock—hell yeah.” He holds up a red and a black pompom. “Cookin’ with fire now.” His grin is infectious.

“You know I don’t have any costume contacts, right?”

Eddie’s ‘pshh’ is so self assured. “With this it won’t matter.” He points at the pentagram transfer. “See? I told you I’d figure it out.”

In the small bathroom at work you feel only slightly ridiculous.

It’d been a few Halloween’s ago that you’d worn this skirt and now it’s a little more snug, sits a little higher on your thigh and hugs your stomach a little tighter. The cropped tee doesn’t leave much to the imagination and the thigh highs feel a little like overkill.

It’s cute, objectively. You know it but you still spend a little too much time staring at the back of yourself as best you can, making sure your whole ass isn’t out on display. A soft knock on the door reminds you of your faithful coworker waiting on you to finish up so they can run off to their own plans.

“Sorry, one sec!” You shove your work clothes into your tote bag and give yourself one last hard stare. “You’re gonna be fine.” You say with some finality to your reflection, black press on nail tapping on the glass.

Outside Eddie sits in his truck, idling next to your car and you take your sweet time strolling over to him. His eyes glint in his side view while the rest of his face stays obscured and you wonder just what costume he’s put on, right until you catch the tilt of his head and you see what sits there. Your pace quickens and you have to hold the hem of your skirt down when you all but run across the parking lot, stopping at his open window to stare at him wildly.

“Oh no, you did not.”

He most certainly did.

The cigarette clenched between his fangs glows in the dark cab, shimmering lips pulling into a smile around the filter. “Do what?” He asks like he has no idea what’s on his body. The run of chains around his neck clink and catch the light of the street lamps. From under his curls the tips of pointed prosthetics peak out, gold rings pierced through the latex. The matte red body paint lays in a thin layer on his face and just barely down his neck, his chest on full display under his barely buttoned black shirt.

“Not the Bard.” His hands glint with more rings than normal, jeweled gold he’d picked up at last year’s Ren Faire. You catch the black claws stuck to his nails and he laughs at your shocked expression.

“What’s wrong with my Bard?”

You gesture wildly at his whole being and you haven’t even started to look up at the horns on his head. Long red ones that curl against his crown, gold chains dripping off the curves. Painted bands shimmer just like the gold on his lips and you almost open your mouth to cancel your plans.

Eddie clicks his tongue at you like he’s read your mind. “Hop in quick, it’s like a 45 minute drive.”

You huff, hands still anchored on the window while you gawk at him. His make up is perfect, his clothes thrown on too easily. There’s a smokey scent that lingers, something not from his cigarette, and you wonder if he got into your perfume oils; Incense and wood fire swirling around him. He taps your knuckles to get them off his door and when you go to walk around the bed of the truck he just whistles at you, nodding his head towards the hood.

“No no, give me a little preview.”

You almost don’t give in. The doubt is trying its hardest to claw up your back but you ignore it and let the headlights cast your shadow on the building. Eddie’s delighted laughter rolls from his open window and when you get into the truck his hand finds the exposed swath of thigh above the socks.

“Told you it’d come together.” A firm squeeze and a straying pinky when you twist around to set your bag in the backseat, the soft pads of his fingers grazing higher under the hem of your skirt.

“You like it?” You sound a little unsure, like he wasn’t the one to lay the outfit out for you to give your seal of approval. It isn’t like you need his constant validation but it feels nice to let him ogle you every once in a while.

“If I didn’t have promises to keep I’d be taking you straight home.” He leans in toward you, careful of all his pieces and face paint, lips close but just out of reach.

“The quicker we get out there, the quicker we can get home.” You try to bridge the distance but Eddie pulls back, another sharp grin aimed at you.

“You should finish your makeup before we get there.” He taps the glove box before leaning back into his seat. “I saved you something for the ride over.”

He keeps his hand in place the whole way to Steve’s. Even when you pull out the joint he rolled for you, in the fun striped papers you’d shown him weeks ago. You relax and try to get your eyeliner done first before you’re too high to care and when you’ve finally put your bag away Eddie becomes your sole focus.

His hand might stay firmly planted but yours don’t. It starts off easy enough, plucking at his necklaces and pendants, letting them fall back on each other and clink. A twist of a ring on his free hand and pulling at the bracelet warmed by his wrist. You run a light finger along his pointed ear and you don’t miss the slight shiver that runs down his neck.

His neck.

You drop that hand and trail the tip of your fake nail over his skin to pull up goosebumps, carefully avoiding smudging any paint. He lets you drop a peck or two but he’s serious about not messing up his makeup, “at least not yet.”

Since you’ve been denied a treat, you pull lightly at his collar so you can nibble on his shoulder. Fingers trailing down the wide open valley of buttons, your other hand dancing across his lap to scratch at the seam of his jeans.

“You’re terrible.” He admonishes you but it’s all for show, if he was serious about you taking your hands off him he wouldn’t have grinned at you like that.

Halfway out of your seat and draped over the center console is how you spend the last half of your drive, an earring between your teeth while you distract him just enough to swerve a few times.

The lake house emerges along the horizon suddenly, almost like you’d been distracted by the button on Eddie’s jeans. The gravel crunches under the tires down the long drive and orange, green and purple string lights help direct you to the actual house.

Steve’s family’s lake house is a mimic of a rustic cabin, one big peaked roof and a massive back deck that wraps around the side. It looks like someone pulled a giant A-frame directly up out of the ground, Halloween decor and all. You stare up at it surrounded by trees, the big windows flashing intermittently with light, music thumping dully out into the sleeping nature.

“Whoa.” Actually you loose all focus of what’s in Eddie’s pants as you finally grasp the size of the property and the crowd outside.

“See? Could have missed all this if we’d just gone home.” Eddie parks and unbuckles himself so he can twist around carefully for the bag in the back. “Now sit still, I gotta put your pentagram on.”

That pulls your attention back to him, especially when he sets a water bottle down first. He peels the transfer apart and you watch him silently, lulled by a full work day and the haze of weed. He’s right, it does go on like a temporary tattoo and when a drip of water falls between your breast you giggle.

“Making a mess already?” You hold the edges of your cut up collar away so you don’t get it stuck and Eddie just shakes his head.

“Are you gonna be like this all night?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Eddie’s hand is flat against your chest to hold the prosthetic in place so you know he feels the uptick of your heartbeat. It’s close and cozy in this cab, close enough that you can see the corner of his mouth twitch and the crinkle of his light crows feet. His eyes drop from your chest to your cleavage and you lean in a little more, push your arms in a little tighter.

“Can I have a kiss?” Whispered just between you two. “Since I’ve been so good tonight.”

He hums, lips pursed, and checks on your pentagram instead. The paper lifts and his hand moves away and you follow him, lips leading to the golden shimmer you’ve been eyeing. It’s quick but it’s what you wanted, just a little more of his attention on you.

He huffs when you pull away. “See this is why I wanted to wait.” His thumb rubs against your chin and he pulls it back to show you the smear of red. “Now you’re marked.”

You think if you can crawl into his lap right now he might abandon this deal tonight. He looks at you from under hooded eyes, eyes that linger on your bare skin. There’s a moment when he takes a deep breath you think you can maybe break him with a well placed purr of his name but—

“Eddie!” The rap of knuckles on the window makes you jump and with it the spell breaks. Robin is waving at the two of you, grinning wide and unknowing of what she’s done. “You guys look great!” Her voice is muffled by the glass so Eddie opens the door and starts his personality up for the show.

You figure out that Robin has gone as Weird Barbie and you love it, especially because she’s obviously a few Malibu and Pineapple’s deep and she keeps you slung close while she directs you and Eddie around.

“Jon and Nance are Beetlejuice and Lydia.” She points in a vague direction of the house where you see neither of them. “Lucas and Max couldn’t make it because they’re doing the ‘parent thing’ obviously.” Her air quotes almost make her spill her drink and Eddie takes it from her with a sigh.

“It’s not even midnight yet, Rob.”

“Hush! I don’t actually know what the hell Dustin is, I think it’s a chemical compound.” She says out of the side of her mouth, gesturing at Eddie to give her a sip from her solo cup. “Will is an amazing Orville Peck, he made his own mask! The fringe is so long!”

You laugh at her pointing at meaningless areas, no one being where she thinks they are.

“And where’s our host?” Eddie asks, scanning the heads outside.

“Oh he’s been so lame. You know, he slapped a name tag on an hour before the party and called it his costume?” Robin looks so disappointed. “I offered to make him a Ken three months ago and he acted like I’d insulted him.”

“Well what’s he wearing? I’d rather him not blow up my phone.”

“Black hat, backwards like an asshole. Red sweater.” Robin drops you off at the doorway into the cabin and snatches her drink back from Eddie. “Name tag says ‘God’.” She leaves you with a heavy eye roll before slipping into the masses.

A quick schmooze around the open downstairs and you’re finally left to your own devices, drink secured in your hand.

“Now don’t go running off without me, okay?” Eddie puts a stern finger in your face and you snap your jaws at it. He ignores you. “I’m serious, meet me up in the loft.” He points the same finger upwards and you nod wordlessly. “Hopefully this shouldn’t take too long and we can go hang out on the dock.”

You frown. “It’s kind of cold out.”

“Oh no.” Eddie waves his hands at you, feigning being distraught. “I guess we’ll have to cuddle, oh no!”

You flip him off as he walks away and he blows you a kiss and immediately you begin timing him to see how long it will actually take him.

You don’t recognize anyone here. Maybe a few people from Stacy’s, some of the line cooks and waitstaff, but no one you can start a conversation with that wouldn’t end up feeling awkward. There’s the obvious close friends of Eddie’s but even they aren’t as known to you and even so, you’ve spotted them chatting with other people already. You sip on your drink and you sigh and resign yourself to waiting it out.

Leaning on the bannister of the loft you look down and spot Eddie animatedly telling someone something, his jewelry sparkling in the flashing lights. His voice carries sometimes, even in a party like this and you watch him with amusement. It doesn’t take long to loose him though and you pull your phone out to distract you, just before a flash of maroon catches your eye and you turn to find Steve looking surprised with two cups in his hands.

“I was trying to sneak up on you, how did you know?”

“I bet you’re one of those guys who doesn’t say ‘behind’ at work, aren’t you?”

“Oh no, I learned my lesson there.” He sets the drinks on the bannister and pulls up his sleeve to show you a silvery scar near his elbow. “That’s where I took a parring knife around a corner, I don’t fuck around in there anymore.” He laughs.

“Was it Eddie?” You ask like you already know the answer but Steve shakes his head hard.

“No, some other dude but Ed did yell at him for walking around with a knife held out in front of him. ‘What are you trying to do, shiv him?’” He puts on a face that you correctly guess is an imitation of an angry Eddie.

“Aw, did he look out for you?” You reach out and pinch Steve’s cheek and he swats you away, his ears flushing a bright red.

“Speaking of, where is he? He has my weed.”

“I don’t know, I lost him in the masses.” You gesture at the crowd below just as the music and lights change, making it darker and harder to make out a detail.

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed. My high is wearing off and there are too many people I don’t know here.” You finish off your drink and Steve is holding up one of his cups to replace it. You raise an eyebrow in question and he just swings it at you so you’ll take it.

“I saw you up here, thought I’d bring you a drink. Didn’t know how long you’d been here.”

Something about his expensive smile always makes you want to giggle. You know that he’s aware of his charms but even then you can’t help how easy he makes it. The flattery is always there, especially if Eddie is around, and if you didn’t know any better you might have the sneaking suspicion he was flirting.

“All by my lonesome?” You shake your new drink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Not like that, I brought two in case Ed was up here.”

He’s always flirting actually, you think it might just be an integral cog of his makeup at this point. You’ve seen the way it slips into the most innocuous conversations with Eddie, though he’s always trying to banter.

You drop the sly accusatory look and shrug. “Good luck. I was told to stay put till he came back.”

“Or, and hear me out, we could go find him together.” He says it like it’s the best idea he’s ever had and honestly? You look around at the sparsely populated loft and check the time on your phone, noticing you’ve already wasted half an hour doing nothing.

“I’m in.”

An hour of wandering and you haven’t run into Eddie again. He didn’t ditch you, far from it. You know your blood covered boobs and incredibly short skirt wouldn’t leave his mind but you do know he how he loves to talk. Someone must have gotten him on a kick and he’s been passed around through groups, his storytelling making bursts of laughter float up from different corners of the party.

“Did he really tell you stay upstairs?” Steve asks, shouldering through a group with a short wave.

“Yeah, but he looses track of time at parties. You know how he is.” You’re a few drinks deep now so any annoyance has burned off, especially since Steve has been nice enough to walk around with you. The view from behind while you followed wasn’t bad either. It makes you smirk and you hide that in your drink, your wandering gaze following his long legs.

One more inside lap before you both stop at the kitchen island covered in bottles to top up and Steve finally calls it.

“Wanna go sit outside?” He nods his head towards the back deck. “Quieter.” He heads for the wall of windows where people filter out to sit by the water. You weren’t kidding earlier when you said it was chilly and you really hadn’t thought to bring a sweater with you for some reason. Steve notices you hesitate though and seemingly understands. On his way to the door he lifts the seat of a bench up and pulls out a blanket.

Water laps at the deck softly and the chatter dies down finally, the music a distant thump and you feel a little sober taking in the fresh air. Steve holds up the corners of the blanket for you and when you don’t immediately move in he shakes it at you.

“I’m not gonna bite.”

“Aw, really?” It slips out before you can catch it. To Steve’s credit he takes it in stride, barely breaking a grin when you finally snatch the blanket from him. He digs around in his front pocket for a moment and pulls out a crumpled pack of Marlboros. There’s one already tucked behind his ear and you’re about to remind him when he holds up a slim joint.

“I know this is a sad offering, but you want?”

As if on cue there’s a peal of laughter followed by a big splash and you step closer to Steve on the dock to get away from the rippling water. “Jesus, please.”

He eyebrows twitch up and he points lazily at the name tag. “Actually it’s God, but same-same.”

He pulls two Adirondack chairs together and you slide back into one remembering to keep your knees together so you don’t accidentally flash Steve. He holds the joint out to you with his lighter and you gasp theatrically.

“And a gentleman at that!”

It takes a few strikes to get the beat up bic to light and you can feel Steve staring. At first you think he’s judging your lack of finesse but when you go to hand him his lighter his eyes snap up from your legs, a tight smile flashed at you before he holds his hand out to take the joint back. He keeps the conversation light, he tells you about what this lake house used to look like and how much his parents sunk into it to remodel it. He makes small talk seem fun when he frosts his words in charm and you remember the last night he’d been particularly plucky with you.

“I.D.?”

“Steve it’s me.”

“Can’t trust it, gotta see I.D.” He shrugs and holds out his hand and gestures at you when you don’t make a move for your wallet. There’s not even a hint of a smile on his face and you wonder if maybe he’d gotten in trouble for giving you so many free extra pours.

“Okay, okay fine here.” Behind you Eddie is deep in conversation with Jeff about switching a shift and hasn’t noticed the third degree yet. When you finally get the plastic slipped out of your wallet Steve snatches it and leans back with it held up close to his face. He studies it like he’s never seen you or an I.D. before and he keeps flicking his eyes back and forth between it and your face.

A nervous grin breaks out of you when the situation isn’t changing. “Steve? Did I do-“

“There it is.”

“What?” You laugh through your confusion.

“I just needed to see that smile.” Steve hands your card back and slides your drink across the counter with an easy grin.

The high is returning and with it the questions that slip easily from your brain and straight out of your mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the surface of the lake where it reflects the string lights. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Remember a few weeks ago when you did the thing with my I.D.?”

His eyebrows scrunch together hard when he tries to piece together what you’re saying. “Your I.D.? Did I loose it?”

You flap your hand at him to try to get him to remember. “No no, the smile thing.”

“Oh!” It dawns on him, his glassy eyes widening. “You like that? That’s one of my better ones.” He seems proud of himself for a pick up line.

“Were you just trying to piss Eddie off or do you just flirt with everyone?”

“Honestly?” Steve scratches his chin lightly, staring back off into the lake’s glassy surface. “I really like messing with Ed. He trusts you so I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs. “Also I do flirt with a lot of people, it gets me good tips.” His laugh makes his eyes crinkle and it makes you think of Eddie.

You take a break to find the bathroom, and to scan for your boyfriend, and when you come up without him you grab two beers from the massive cooler and head back outside. Steve seems a little more alert than when you left him and he points to a space under the deck where two people are cloaked in shadow.

“See that?”

You lean your hip into Steve’s shoulder to balance yourself as you squint, two things becoming harder to do especially together. It isn’t until a wig gets tugged off and both of you gasp, finally realizing that Robin has found a different Barbie. She tugs at Robin, hauling her towards the boathouse and Steve starts laughing.

“Should we help her or…?”

“Nah, she’ll find me in the morning.” Steve sighs and runs his hand up the back of your thigh.

Hm?

You run that feeling through your cotton stuffed brain again. The back of your thigh, the part that is so very bare and just under the hem of your skirt is hot, skin sticky where a palm sits now. It’s wide and a little rough and his fingers give a quick squeeze to the fat there and then proceeds to sit still. You move slowly, your head dropping down to stare at Steve’s easy posture.

“Steven?” You ask slowly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you with not even a twinkle in his eye. If he were to move his thumb just the slightest bit up he’d be grazing the cuff of your ass and you wonder if he can even feel the sudden heat rolling off you.

“What’s that you got there?” You don’t break eye contact with him.

“Something soft.”

The giggle escapes before you realize it and something in Steve’s features shifts into what looks like pride. You don’t forget where you are so much as you take the bait and turn towards him, leaning down so you’re close to his face and can see the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

“I think,” you whisper and cast an exaggerated look around, “you’re tying to get a rise out of someone.”

“Oh?” His cheeks flush, just a tinge of pink that catches your eye.

Steve’s head goes back with a tug of his backwards cap.

“Harrington.” Eddie makes his grand reappearance, seemingly stepping from the shadows to stare down at Steve who stares up in dumbstruck awe.

You’d noticed horns approaching when you’d leaned down and maybe it was the combination of liquor and weed but something bold had taken over, especially when you knew you had Eddie coming to swoop in.

“Finally finished your rounds? I’ve been waiting.” Steve asks your boyfriend, who keeps the bill of the baseball hat between his knuckles.

“You finally finished feeling up my girl? I’m waiting.”

You don’t expect that, the warmth in his tone. The little chuckle, the joking grin. Something about Eddie taking this on the chin makes you pay attention.

“Oh what’s a thigh between friends, huh?”

You can hear the edge in Steve’s voice now, the push to Eddie’s pull. That palm stays firmly planted on you while the two men stare at each other. It’s like they’re speaking in silent code, cats flicking their ears to get their point across. Eddie seems to give in first with a small shrug, letting go of Steve’s hat though his head remains lolled back to stare at the red demon above him.

“Is this imposter bothering you?” Eddie gestures at the peeling name tag stuck to Steve’s sweater and you think about it, honestly.

Where you are right now, is it bothering you?

The hand cradling the back of your thigh, is that bothering you?

The way Eddie seems to be reading your mind, his eyes bouncing between your own and the smile you just realized is warming up your face, does that bother you?

“No.”

This feels like earlier in the night. A heavy hand anchoring you to the moment. A little buzz from your warm high. You’re listening to Eddie smooth talk Steve but all you want is something tactile. Eddie crouches down so he’s eye level with Steve and they lean into each other to conspire, you’d know that look on his face anywhere. It’s one he’s shot you over countless drinks and through crowds and at dinner with friends. He’s got his mind set on something.

He’s too far away though for you to absently run your fingers through his hair so you grab the next best thing. The fringe sticking out from under Steve’s hat is so soft when you rub it between your fingers. Little flips of sun bleached brunette that curl up under the brim and around your finger, twirling between your press ons.

“How is your hair so soft?”

Eddie tilts his head just as Steve slowly turns to look at you with a confused smile. “I spend a lot of money on conditioner.”

“What’s it made of, spun silk?” You drag your nails up the back of his head and he shivers.

Eddie looks downright gleeful. “I told you.”

“Told him what?” Distracted by Steve letting his head fall into your palm you miss Eddie shooting his friend a look.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie asks suddenly. “You still wanna head out?”

“No.” You scratch Steve’s scalp and watch him melt down into the lounge chair. “This is fun.” His hand finally sides down to wrap around your thigh, holding you against him.

“Well Steve has told me something very interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got a little surprise I think you might enjoy.”

“Oh?” You grab a handful of hair and give Steve a light tug. “Did you bring me a gift?”

“It’s for all of us, actually.”

2 am and the party continues outside the heavy door to Steve’s bedroom. No one blinks an eye when you pull Eddie through the doorway minutes after Steve disappears in there. Not even a knock when Eddie kicks it closed and spins you around to face him.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, walking you backwards into the room.

“Absolutely.” You grin, nodding at him.

“Positive?” He holds your gaze to make sure you know he’s serious. Your hands clamp around his face and you pull him in close.

“Yes Eddie.”

Steve’s solid chest bumps into your back, the sweetness of his cologne bursting around you.

“You got it?” Eddie looks past you to ask Steve.

Steve huffs. “Yeah I got it.” He moves around behind you, digging something out of his pocket and his knuckles drag over your ass before his hand appears around you with a little twisted bag between his fingers. “You wanna do the honors?”

“Oh please, it’s your party.” Eddie plays with the hem of your skirt but he watches Steve untwist the bag. Eddie gives you a peck when he catches you trying to turn your head, pulls at your hips to make you face Steve and that self assured grin is present when Eddie holds you still.

“You ever done this before?” Steve asks when he holds up the baggie, eyes dropping to your lips.

“Uh, once. Didn’t really like it.” You watch him work while Eddie stands behind you and runs his hands right up under your skirt. He laughs into your neck and his breath slides under the ripped up collar of your t-shirt. “I don’t think I was with the right people.” You stare at Steve while he dips his index finger into the powder.

“You’ve never done this together?”

“Nope.” Eddie answers for you, his face peeking into your periphery. “Strictly a weed and liquor household, like god intended.” His laugh sends a zap through you, slowed and tingly against your current high. “Isn’t that right baby?” His hand sneaks up under your jaw where his fingers press into your cheeks making your lips purse and part slightly. When Steve’s fingertip grazes your bottom lip you open wider and both men laugh.

“Eager.” Steve says before his finger pushes past your lips and rubs down the side of your gums. The taste is an immediate bitter tang followed by the salt of his skin and you grunt quietly, closing your lips around him. “You’re telling me she’s not a natural at this?” Steve looks past you to Eddie, ignoring you tonguing his finger.

“Not with coke, but she’s real good with things in her mouth, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand runs down the front of your throat and you hum in agreement. Steve’s finger pops out of your mouth and dips back into the powder, swirling around while he watches from half lidded eyes Eddie kissing along the back of your neck.

“One more.” He promises with a smile and when his finger dips into your mouth again you start to feel the tingle along your gums, something that dances up along your cheeks and zips through your hairline. It fights against the sluggish feeling of the weed and lights up a part of your brain that was trying its best to stay focused through the liquor. Steve is eyeing Eddie while the latter pushes up your shirt, an exchange again made through glances. Steve barely gets his finger out before his mouth is on you, his tongue pushing past your lips to chase your new high.

He’s so warm everywhere. His lips against yours and his chest pressing in and his hands that go right for your jaw those long fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck that give you a shiver up your spine and Eddie must feel those goosebumps when they sprout, they appear so fast and right under his lips and—

“Hey,” Eddie says, turning your head to the side “take a breath.” He breaks your kiss and you whine at the missing warmth of Steve’s soft mouth. “Yeah I know.” He soothes, running a thumb down your cheek. “You still gotta breathe.”

You roll your eyes and take a deep, dramatic breath to show him you still can. Beside you Steve sniffs off the back of his hand before he attaches himself to the side of your neck. His tongue trails over your pulse and Eddie holds your gaze and your chin before he leans in to kiss you.

The coke makes you less hazy, takes the soft edge of the weed and brings it into focus. The feel of Steve’s lips moving up your neck and Eddie’s fingers around your chin. His tongue in your mouth and his other hand slowly tugging up your skirt and Steve’s big palms running up your sides. You can hear the thump of the music outside that feels like it’s trying to keep up with your heartbeat.

There’s a hand pulling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and a hand running up the side of your neck and you hold onto the front of their shirts. You have the distinct feeling of floating while you get pulled and pushed and somewhere in the flurry of caresses you whine into Eddie’s kiss.

A break of lips on your skin and Steve’s shirt hits the floor and then your skirt is getting pushed down to meet them. The strappy set you’d picked out last minute, with all its crisscrossing bands over your hips and across your chest, form a rude arrow between your tits to guide their eyes.

Eddie stares and runs a fingertip under one of the bands to snap it. “Special occasion?”

You don’t answer him, too busy trying to get at his buttons to get his shirt off too. Those tattoos sing at you to be seen and you want to see the starkness of Eddie against Steve’s sun kissed shoulders.

Behind you Steve slides a hand up over your bra and the other down your spine, his lips on the back of your neck. It takes you a second to realize he’s trying to get you to the bed but Eddie notices and changes his stance. He knows how to move you around when he wants and he grabs you around the ribs to give you a push. It’s like all your other games now especially when Eddie starts to follow you back as you shimmy towards the pillows.

The clink of a belt buckle reminds you that Steve is still here. He holds out the baggie to Eddie. “Before you loose track.”

You notice it then, the lack of inebriation in Eddie. Sure he’d been a little toasted from the drive but while he made his rounds it seems like you and Steve were the only ones drinking.

“Actually, come here.” Eddie takes the coke but stops crawling toward you, instead sitting up on his knees and motioning for Steve. “Let me try something.”

Steve can’t get out of his jeans fast enough. He almost trips in his eagerness and Eddie uses it to his advantage. Steve’s flipped on his back with a laugh and all you can do is watch, fascinated with whatever Eddie has planned.

“Do you remember that time we all came up to see you play in college? Like all of us, I think it was the game you tore your shoulder.” Eddie looks down at Steve getting comfortable and throwing his arms out to the side. “That party the night before? What was that girls name?”

“Becca.” Steve says, shifting his gaze to look at you. “Stupid college fling.”

You nod wordlessly and start trying to unhook your bra without moving much. Eddie laughs and holds the baggie open so he can dip his finger in.

“Ah, Becca. She broke up with you the night before a championship game dude. That was cold.” Eddie acts like he’s swirling candy through sugar the way he twirls his finger around but the way you and Steve watch him it might as well be. “Remember how like, no one could find you in the morning? They thought you had gone off and drank yourself stupid over a girl, but where were you again?”

Steve just laughs but you want to know, you want to be in on the joke. Like most times it feels like Eddie hears your thoughts and he turns those big eyes full of mirth to you.

“He was actually passed out in the back of my van, naked.” Eddie gestures at Steve wearing only his boxers and smiling up at him. “This kind of reminded me of that.”

Eddie hovers over Steve, finger ghosting over his lips. “Open.” Steve’s grin splits and Eddie’s claw disappears behind white teeth. Dark ringed eyes flick up to find you where you’ve gone still against the pillows. He looks unbelievably wicked in this room, the gold shimmer on his lips barely mused from kissing you. He must have tossed the small fangs earlier but his mouth still poises danger while Steve sucks on his finger.

You finally find the momentum to drive off the pillows and over to the two of them just as Eddie follows his finger in with his lips. Steve lets a soft moan escape before Eddie covers his mouth with his own, gold staining pink.

You drop your shoulders mid crawl to stretch your hand into Steve’s hair again. You run it through the roots while you stare at them kissing, Steve groaning in the back of his throat when you pull.

“Like that?” You whisper so you don’t break their spell and Steve nods as he looks for something to hang on to. His fingers catch on your bicep and in Eddie’s hair and he’s anchored, hips rolling up into nothing while you tug on the crown of his head.

There’s a little bit of time that seems to slip away from you. One moment you’re watching Eddie take Steve apart and the next he’s moved you again, his arm slung around your middle to pull you flush against his chest, your underwear clutched in his fist, your thoughts soft

Steve watches Eddie’s tattooed hand slide gently around the front of your neck and he knows he’s in trouble. It’s both of you really, not just Eddie, driving him insane. He tilts your head back onto his shoulder and smiles down at you with what Steve thinks is pure adoration. When Eddie shifts his attention to Steve there’s a swooping low in his abdomen at the thought of being let in on whatever this is.

“Wanna help me out?” Eddie tilts his head toward you and that’s when Steve realizes that both you and him are fully naked. Clothes shed in the fast moments between kisses and yet Eddie still has his jeans on. Steve could break out his machismo here, could challenge this and let it be over quick and fast and typical or he could let the reigns go for a night. He thinks about letting himself not be in charge as Eddie moves above him while nudging you forward, knees straddling his hips and before he knows it he’s almost fucking you.

“That feel good baby?” Eddie’s teeth glint in the low light when he bites lightly at your cheek and leaves another mark of red and gold. You laugh breathily and nod your head, pushing your hips down just a little and the head of Steve’s cock pushes in. Both of you gasp and Steve thinks he feels a tear escape. The immediate wet surrounding him and the little display Eddie is putting on above him goes right to his balls and for a moment he thinks he won’t last past this. Eddie’s other hand trails down your stomach, fingers seeking further and further until they reach your bush and the gold rings distract Steve for just a second before they sink into your folds.

You crumple and slide down his cock further and Steve is trying to be respectful, as respectful as he can be, but he’s testing his own limits. A swift buck of his hips and he’d be home.

“I think you should give Steve a break, he looks like he’s loosing brain cells.” Eddie keeps you pressed to him, head lolled back and mouth open and panting, hips searching out his teasing fingers on your clit. “C’mon, give it up for Stevie.” He fake pouts at you and then turns it on Steve.

“Fuck you Ed-“ He’s cut off by the fall of your hips now seated flush against him. Everything about you is warm and wet and soft and amplified. His hands fist into the sheets beside him in an attempt to keep them to himself for the first time tonight, an attempt that Eddie calls out.

“You can touch her Steve, she isn’t gonna break.” He demonstrates this by digging his fingers in a little around your neck and you squeeze around Steve in response. “You want him to touch you, right?”

“Please.”

“Oh, she’s asking so nicely.”

Steve tries to think back to the first time he ever made a passing comment about you and wishes he could kick himself. He’d gone into this night with one other threesome under his belt, some half met happenstance from ten years ago. It’d been sloppy and messy and he’d bent the two girls around to his will but this? He’s unprepared. Any and all of his personal history with Eddie should have given him some kind of clue, but the two of you really are nothing but a flashing red light of trouble.

Your knees dig into his sides while one hand ghosts over his abdomen, looking for purchase. Eddie still holds you close but keeps his eyes on Steve, a suggestion in his gaze.

“Go ahead.” Eddie purrs and Steve finds himself lost in more than just his high. If he didn’t know any better he’d be convinced of his friend’s true nature, a pest of a demon hellbent on driving Steve certifiably insane. However he finds his hands running hot over your thighs and up your sides, over your stomach and under the swell of your breast. Anywhere he can run his hands over the soft skin you’d kept barely hidden all night, skin that he’d been staring at.

Eddie chuckles when Steve finds a nipple, a fierce pinch to it making you gasp and roll your hips and Steve can’t help himself anymore. He grips and thrusts up to punch a sharp moan out of you. Eddie’s fingers stay buried in your cunt and splayed across your throat to keep you pinned to his chest. Steve’s immediate fast pace makes you bounce and he’s transfixed when Eddie sneaks a finger into your hanging mouth to hold your jaw open.

“You should hear her.” He drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth before letting go, lowering you to lay on Steve’s chest. A whine comes from you, a deep sound that pitches up when Steve shifts to hold you in place. He already sits so deep but when he winds his arm around your neck to hold you close you gasp. You can feel Eddie move on the bed, can feel his hand run over your ass, can feel the brush of his suddenly freed cock along your inner thigh. Steve adjust you so your cheek is flat against him and pulls at your hip to spread you open for Eddie.

“Fuck now isn’t that a pretty sight?” His thumb is rough against such sensitive skin when he glides it around your cunt. You try to move your hips as much as you can but the angle you’re at only affords you short rolls of your hips.

“Oh you can do better than that for Steve, can’t you?” Eddie teases and you whine into Steve’s chest.

“He’s being mean isn’t he?” Steve whispers to you. They both laugh at your groan but Steve shushes you, palm rubbing over the back of your neck where he holds you down. “I’ll be the nice one then, huh?”

Struck dumb by the feeling of Eddie pushing forward ever so slightly, all you can do is nod. He tilts your chin up to hold your gaze, his pupils blown out wide and dark and you wonder if yours look just as big.

“Can I—“ Cut off by the feeling of something cold dripping on your ass you almost sit up out of Steve’s grip before Eddie giggles a quiet apology and tosses a little bottle of lube over the side of the bed.

“What do you want?”

“Coke.” The zing is fading and you want to feel it again. The race of goosebumps across your bared flesh. The tingle over your scalp as Steve’s finger glides along your teeth.

Eddie laughs and reaches over to grab the bag and hand it to Steve, tasking him with your request. Still held in place, Steve brings his finger, wet now and dipped in white again, back to your mouth. His finger rubs your gums again and the head of his cock nudging deep and the feel of Eddie’s pressing where Steve already is and you don’t know how much more full you can get. It’s a stretch just with Steve but the insistent pressure from Eddie, the feel of his cockhead popping in makes your breath catch. He’s being careful, just so careful but that need to feel everything and move and moan takes over again and Eddie puts a heavy hand on your back.

“Breathe, baby.”

Instead you whine, held between two solid bodies that keep you still, that stroke your spine and run rough fingers into your hair to keep you from spinning out.

“That’s a pretty sound.” Steve says lowly and out of the corner of your eye you watch him hold his hand up to Eddie who sucks that same finger into his mouth.

The thought is brought to the forefront of your mind quickly, the image so clear and grounding, of Eddie sucking your purple strap. It stops the other spinning thoughts and that initial head rush fades. Against Steve’s chest you mumble about Eddie’s pretty sounds, dazedly watching Steve’s long finger pop out from between those gold lips.

“What was that?” Steve sounds a little breathless.

“Eddie makes pretty sounds too.” The images shuffle in your brain. “When I fuck him he whines and it’s like he’s about to cry or something it’s almost too much.” Behind you Eddie laughs and thrust his hips and you choke on your words, his cock pushing further in and stretching you more. Steve’s laugh turns into a hiss and the hand on your neck clamps down when Eddie’s cock rubs against his.

“Keep talking.” Eddie is breathless but still the only one not blissed out. “You gonna tell him how good I look sucking dick?” He rocks his hips forward gently and ghosts a palm over your lower back. “Steve already knows about that, don’t you big guy?” Eddie teases before leaning over you to catch Steve’s eye. The smear of gold on his bottom lip drives Eddie crazy and the laugh turned stuttered moan when he drives deeper into you makes him wish he had more than just two hands.

“Or maybe Steve can tell you about when I’d drive out for those big parties.”

You like it when Eddie’s gets mouthy. When he starts sparring to get the upper hand. You’re smiling into Steve’s chest with just the barest glimpses of Eddie above you. He rocks in and out of the corner of your vision and under your ear you can hear the rumble of Steve trying his best to keep it together.

“Remember almost getting caught in the frat your freshman year? What a bunch of dumbasses.” Eddie’s laugh has an edge to it now and your chest swells with some kind of pride that he’s finally starting to falter.

“Yeah…b-because you c-couldn’t shut up.” Steve finally speaks, his hips starting to falter the slow rhythm he’d been keeping up. “It’s why we had to mo-ve to the van.”

Eddie’s hand appears when he lays his whole body on you so he can reach for Steve’s hair to give it a tug. The change in angle and Steve’s moans cancel out any quip you were trying to cobble together, a calm instead seeping in as the coil low in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie runs his mouth but you can’t pay attention to him with the way him and Steve seem to work in tandem for a blissful moment.

It’s too much and it’s not enough and you pant and whine and scratch at Steve’s chest. There’s no more rhythm then, just the snapping of their hips against you while they race to their own ends. Steve grips you hard before he slams his hips up one last time and stills, a long groan from deep in his chest your only warning before he cums. It’s a chain reaction of Steve going boneless and Eddie cursing behind you, picking up pace and bullying that tender spot enough to make you seize up. It sneaks up on you so fast, makes you loose your breath for a moment. A leg shaking orgasm, your fingers wound tightly enough in Steve’s hair to make him hiss, all you can hear is the guttural groan coming from you and Eddie’s praise. It tumbles out of his mouth with little sense and you know he’s done in when his thumbs rub tight, fast circles on your hip before he stills.

Hearing and speech aren’t really a thing for you yet but you do grunt in appreciation when Steve seems to come to some of his senses and reaches up to pull the stupid horns off of Eddie’s head that’s resting between your shoulder blades.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s breath fans over your sweaty skin and he makes no attempt at moving yet. Someone has fingers in your hair, you can’t tell, and Eddie is rubbing his face against you and giving you little kisses along your shoulder. Steve’s breathing is finally calming down and in turn it makes you even out too, realizing how sticky you are everywhere.

“I hate to break this up,” Your voice is scratchy and small coming from between them, “but I need to go to the bathroom.”

You stumble back into the room, falling down into the bedding and Eddie slithers up from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed to leave a trail of kisses all the way up. He winds himself between your legs and drapes them over his hips and continues to leave kisses up your stomach and over the peeling prosthetic on your chest. He dots your neck and cheeks and all around your mouth before he finally gives you a real kiss. He makes you giggle with his doting and when he tries to put your underwear back on for you but the straps outwit him. Instead he tugs on the sheet beneath you and tucks in around you, leaving your clothes on the floor for later.

“Do you need anything?” He says it quietly, thinking Steve is dozing beside you. “Other than water I mean.”

You’re tired and achey and still high from various things and all you can think to ask for is: “Crackers.”

“In bed?” Eddie gives you an unbelieving look but when you just grin sleepily at him he shrugs. “I won’t kick you out.” He gets up slowly and kicks stuff around on the floor to find his own shirt when the shifting of bed springs grabs his attention. Steve is seemingly trying to sneak out of the bed without saying anything, keeping his back to the two of you while he toes his underwear over to himself.

Eddie waits for some kind for acknowledgement but when it doesn’t come he clears his throat lightly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He says it like he’s surprised that you and Eddie are still there. “I’m gonna get out of your hair…I gotta make sure no one set anything on fire and like, find Rob…” He looks around for his pants and won’t meet Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m just going to get water, you don’t have to leave. It’s your room anyways.”

“Well I’m not kicking you guys out.”

“Steve.” You don’t mean to admonish him but that’s what happens. With the sheet tucked up around your chest you pull on the slack to show the other side of the bed. “Get back in here.”

He doesn’t move, just sighs deeply and reaches for his cigarettes.

“I’m serious.”

Eddie watches you point at the empty spot with some finality and he almost tells Steve it’s in his best interest to listen to you.

“I just—“

“It’s cold. I’m cold. Get back in the bed.” You slap the pillow. “Please.”

Steve does look at Eddie then with concern and all Eddie can do is chuckle. “I’d get back in there unless you like spit in your iced lattes for the next however long.” He leaves for the promised water and Steve sits on the edge of the bed and acts like you’re making him go to the dentist.

“Hey, if you want to leave you can, I was trying to be funny.”

“I didn’t want to intrude.” Steve sighs and throws himself back onto the pillow. “You guys were having a moment.”

You pull a confused face. “Do I need to remind you what we were just doing?”

“No.” Steve laughs.

“Because I can’t give you graphic detail but I can tell you that I got pretzeled up pretty good.” You reach over to rub a hand over his chest, running your fingers through the dark curls. Eddie sneaks back in and you notice the music isn’t at the level it was when you came in here.

Around the blinds is a light blue border bleeding in and you would really like to bury your head under the covers and keep petting Steve. Eddie makes you drink water though before anyone can get comfortable, even bullies Steve into finishing his. Eddie does his normal and climbs into bed to immediately lay half on your back, his arm flung over to mess with Steve until he relents and tilts his head over so Eddie can twirl a strand around.

Tucked between the two of them you’re almost asleep when you remember something from the heat of it all and you shake with silent laughter.

“What?” Eddie asks and Steve gives you a half awake eyebrow raise.

“You know he’s a tiefling right?”

That wakes Steve up a little. “What?”

“Yeah, his tiefling bard. You called him a demon earlier and it made me laugh.”

Steve sighs and ignores your sleep talk and you try to expound but the heavy, comforting weight of Eddie and Steve’s warm chest under your palm cut you off before you even realize you’ve fallen asleep.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Perfect Stranger

Summary- Eddie runs into someone needing his help late at night, and like the gentleman he is, he knew he couldn’t leave you all by yourself.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- A drunk asshole not understanding when he’s made a girl feel uncomfortable 🙃

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

Word Count- 1.2k

Eddie took one last puff off of the cigarette butt between his fingers before tossing it to the ground, blowing the smoke up into the night sky as he began down the crowded sidewalk. Smaller shows were his absolute favorite shows to attend, he adored being able to support the local scene, just as long as they didn’t mind taking a flyer for Corroded Coffins next show.

They always ended the same: the crew would clear out their equipment along with a majority of the people in the crowd, meanwhile the band would be at the bar talking with friends and a few new fans. The only unfortunate part was that Eddie promised Wayne this wouldn’t be another night where he was out past 3 a.m. A smirk came to his lips as he checked his wristwatch. Only 1:45, so technically he was still on time.

Just as he put his arm back down, he jumped, not seeing you standing so closely to him, smiling big with a look in your eyes he’d only seen in movies. When those damsels in distress finally see their knight in shining armpit to take them away from whatever evil was keeping them captive.

He didn’t know how right he was.

“Hey!” You said, eyes wide with that same smile on your lips, “Where have you been, i’ve been looking all over for you?”

Confused wouldn’t even begin to describe the way Eddie was feeling.

There was this girl in front of him, a complete stranger, dressed up all pretty with your makeup and hair done. He started to think he saw you in the crowd at the show. Yet still, a stranger, who was clearly VERY happy to have found him. It was only when he looked up behind you and saw an irritated man a few feet away.

He was dressed up in the same clothes, another guy from the show he assumed, only this one didn’t seem like the type to not be a problem. Eddie glanced down and immediately picked up this schtick you’d begun when you looked into his eyes and mouthed ‘Help. Me.’ to him. That was enough to get anyone’s clear attention.

“Hey!” He smiled, his arm quickly going around your side to pull you close to him, “Sorry, i think i just got caught up at the bar, my bad.”

“That’s ok!” You nodded, hoping the relief in your voice translated as a ‘thank you’, “I told you he was around here somewhere,” You said to the creep, “he can get me back just fine.”

Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ easily.

“You’re sure?” He shrugged, “How do i know you’re not just making shit up? I’m just trying to be nice, you should be thankful.”

“Hey.” Eddie said sternly, even making you jump slightly, “Don’t tell her how to feel asshole, she said she’s fine.”

“Oh come on, I’ve been talking to this bitch all night and she’s been all alone until now.” From the way his words were slurring it was quite noticeable how many drinks this guy had at the show. Another drunk asshole thinking he can creep on any girl he wants, and Eddie wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Yeah, well her boyfriend is here now so i think you should get lost.” Eddie pulled you closer into him, getting ready to shield you just in case this guy decided to get any closer.

The drunk tilted his head with a sour look on his face, staring directly at you as he tried his best to stand on his own two legs. His attention was drawn elsewhere when he saw the familiar shine of the streetlights against the red and blue siren atop the police car that just so happened to be driving by.

With an eye roll and a scoff from the drunk, you thought you could hear him muster out something, but as soon as it started it was over. He shook his head as he turned on his heel, finally leaving you alone, especially after not wanting this to get any more serious than it had already been.

Eddie watched as the drunk turned the corner, keeping you at his side just in case he decided to come back.

“You alright?” He asked you, his hands holding your forearms tightly, “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No, I’m alright.” You smiled with a sigh of relief knowing that he was finally gone, “He just wouldn’t leave me alone… Thanks for helping me. I really appreciate it…” You were about to thank him formally but it had finally got you that you didn’t even know his name.

“Eddie.” He said with a smile, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Eddie.” You confirmed, taking his hand and giving it a gentle shake, “I’m (y/n).”

“Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“Likewise.” You smiled before a quick deep breath, “Thank you again, really. That drunk asshole has been bothering me all fucking night.”

“God, i can’t imagine.” Eddie slowly walked with you closer to the bar, at least there you’d be around with people if that guy decided to come back, “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s alright.” You shrugged, “It wouldn’t be the first time some dick at a show decided i was gonna be his target for the night. It’s usually easy, im always with my friends, but the one night i decide to go to a show by myself…” You took another deep breath, shaking your head for letting yourself get so stupid and go to a show by yourself when you knew this would happen. Again.

Eddie gently put his hand to your shoulder,

“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but that asshole, he’s the one who got too drunk to notice how creepy he was being.”

His reassurance helped to ease your anxiety, and he seemed like an overall nice guy considering how quickly he caught onto helping you.

“Thank you.” You said with a kind smile, your eyes finally meeting his. They looked almost black in the night, but the chocolatey glare from the yellowed street lights made them seem so soft.

“Of course. If you like i’d be happy to stick around you for a little bit, or i can walk you to your car if you need me to?”

“Honestly, after all that,” You chuckled nervously, replaying the nights events in your head, “i could use a drink.”

“Hear, hear.” Eddie laughed, holding his arm out for you to take, “I’ll buy. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You cautiously took his arm, pulling close to him as you began your slow stroll towards the still open bar. It may have a few more drunk assholes left straggling around but at least this time you had some protection.

With the combination of the yellow streetlights overhead and the music of the bar playing in the distance, mixed with the rustle of the leaves as a breeze flew by, it made the moment seem almost romantic.

You may have just met one another, just you were happy to get to know this stranger. No matter how long it took.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[d-apperc-adaver]

PART I

warnings: n/a, no there will be no smut, but spicy things will HEAVILY will be hinted at. sorta

plot: this chapter is more of a buildup. frustrated hopelessly in love gn reader :)

Thinking about Beetlejuice’s love life made you filled to the brim with rage. This havoc created by Delores and thinking about his past with her…lit your fuse.

It was quite obvious. You were tapping your finger obnoxiously on the table thinking about it.

And now he also has the nerve to say that Lydia was the love of his life?!! Damn that man! Damn him! Eternally!

Superficial deals for his own benefit. Or so at least you tried to convince yourself.

He was outright ridiculous at this point. The Beetlejuice you knew would’ve moved on already. And you know Beetlejuice.

You saw the man have an Elvis phase, get a fixation on speology, teach you medieval languages, lie that his middle name was Pete because he lost his shit when he heard Louis Armstrong sing Cuban Pete.

You always stayed. Just to be seemingly made out of cellophane when you tried to talk to him about anything relationship related thing. Didn’t matter whose problems were. If it weren’t about something he did in the past, a rendezvous, he would avoid it like a devil running away from holy water.

Everything made you internally explode.

He drove you crazy.

And you kept tap tapping at the surface of your table, the poor thing might just get a dent.

But the thing is, why did you even care about his poor “love choices”. Why did you put up with this then organise a mental pity party, “it should’ve been me! ME!” for yourself?

Fair enough he talked a good chunk about them and about how what a catch he is, but still. You accepted his way of being when you took the commitment of being his friend. A gross, perverted, ridiculous in every capacity and disgustingly charming ghost.

And you loved it. You were in absolute awe with his way of being.

You don’t quite remember when you started to fancy him. But in moments like this you sure do wonder why the feelings remained.

You really wished he would have seen more in you but unfortunately you seem to not have bewitchingly cursed enough eyes or some other bullshit.

But with the sound of your thoughts growing louder and louder and getting thrown off by your own feelings that you wanted gone and substantial amount of jealousy, you got back to work.

I mean. Doing him a favour. Sorting leftover business flyers..yeahhhh.

Ironically enough this was the fuel to all of your fire.

If you could say so.

“Looking for a…

LOVE CONNECTION?”

“DEAD-ICATED TO FINDING YOUR MATCH?”

It’s as if you could smell the cheap candles, satin robes and rose petals right in your face.

Makes sense to get angry at a lovey dovey flyer he planned on sending to any woman, VERY MUCH preferably a breather he would have to “woo” to do that weird wedding ritual, in his close proximity. I mean he already went ahead and conjured one for Lydia. But the worst part of this is that he seemed to have more of a romantic obsession with her now rather than his just do it for his own freedom. Ew.

So while doing that. You tried your best to keep your mind quiet from the suppressed feelings for Beetlejuice out of all ghosts, and moved to the normal classic good ol “TROUBLE WITH THE LIVING” flyers. You packed them up neatly in boxes, hell even put labels on them.

You got up from the table with a loud sigh of relief of finally getting away from things that reminded you of your adoration for the demon (oh how you’d love to just staareee all day into those big blue eyes) and rising your head up you were met with a horrifying:

“What’s got your panties in a twist hun?”

———————————————————

Hope u enjoyed the fanfic ♡´･ᴗ･`♡ thx for reading through

I’m cooking up a part two…

EDIT: THE TAGS!! How could I forget the tags… gee. I’m stuid :P

[vanitythevantropist]

Sooo, I redesigned my MLP OCs recently :3 I love my little colourful horses! (Even tho I don’t watch the show lmao-)

Characters featured (left-right, top-bottom): Clouded Eclipse, Pictor Soot, Pitaya Effervesce, Brisk Ocicat and Imagination.

Extra details about the characters featured:

-Cloudy: He/him, aroace, blind, dragon/unicorn hybrid, shy and often on the quieter side, a very good listener (Note; not sure what his cutie mark represents yet lmao- Feel free to offer ideas!)

Pictor: Transmasc (he/him), gay, paralysed from the waist down, can still fly but doesn’t often due to lower body being heavy, bit of a mischievous streak, currently dating Pitaya, cutie mark represents the Pictor constellation because he likes to paint and also because he’s an astronomer!

Pitaya: He/him, also gay, a very healthy boi, stupidly fit though he doesn’t show it often, very good flyer, runs a smoothie van (yes, there are cars in this world cuz it’s set in the future), very gentle and friendly, most definitely extroverted, cutie mark represents his job as an excellent smoothie maker! (Quote; “They have the soft texture of clouds”) (Also, my friend made me this design :3 I did change a few things but mostly kept him the same!)

Brisk: She/her, pansexual, very, very fast, very healthy girly, very shy and soft spoken, gets along with Cloudy very well, very good sportsmen-ship (if she loses, she loses🤷🏼‍♀️ She will gladly congratulate the winner about that, tho!), cutie mark represents her quick hooves, she works as a race pony and a coach (mostly a coach)

Ima: She/her, lesbian af, very near sighted (hence the glasses), woodland unicorn (a custom species of unicorn! Their manes are long and kinda leaf-like. Feel free to make one of your own and tag me, I’d love to see them!!), on the quieter side but certainly isn’t shy, very confident, will absolutely commit murder if it means protecting those she loves, huuugge book worm, cutie mark represents her job as a glass painter

I love them all, I really do🥰 Feel free to ask about them or directly ask them questions! (Specify who you’re asking, you may do this with all my OCs! I welcome it!)

[dinsdjrn]

everything i wanted | j. miller | 2.8k

track one | track two | masterlist

bodyguard!AU

AU!Joel x singer!f!reader

summary: it's not what i meant when i said i wanted to be seen. a scary note, a long day, and a security detail.

tags for the series: 18+, minors DNI, angst/fluff/eventual smut, sarah's dead (plot), ellie is alive, parental manipulation/abuse (maternal), depression, drug and alcohol use, sobriety, stalker behaviour from a fan, will update as i go, this ones gonna get dark but it will have the happy feel good too! as always if anything is missing tell me and i will add it!

a/n: another wip that im pumped about, and guess what i have already written pt 2.. so thats coming. this is intro it really picks up next chapter xoxo.

track one - to be seen

It was a cool winter night in LA, or well as cool as LA gets. You had just arrived back at the house you rented in LA when you were in the studio. It had been a pretty typical day for you, your album had just been released and you were doing loads of press. You were also attempting to write and produce a deluxe edition of your most recent studio album. The resounding success of your first album catapulted you into fame overnight. 

This second album was much more by the book, trimmed and produced as if to make you a working dog eager to please those who owned your success. You felt it was missing the grit of your first album. You hoped with the release of a deluxe edition you’d be able to bring that grit back in, take back control of your sound. The only issue being you had to write the songs to be able to produce them. 

You were so excited to just collapse into bed, it had been a long day doing both a morning talkshow and late night TV. You reminded yourself that this was your dream for so long and it was finally happening. Two be grateful for the love and support. That your fans cared about you and the songs you made. 

‘They started your career, and if you don’t work for them they’ll end it.’ you could hear your mother in your head. So you turned your exhaustion into gratefulness. Long days meant a long career ahead. 

As you unlocked the door to your house a small envelope fell from the crack of the door to your feet. 

Probably just a flyer. You thought to yourself. 

You picked it up and made your way into the modern home. The kitchen was clean and a bit too sterile for your liking. You missed home, your friends, your dad, playing gigs at bars and comedy shows. This life was overwhelming, it felt like a tornado scooped you up and placed you in LA, New York, or London. Your heart was both so full and so empty all at once. 

You opened the envelope with your finger and pulled out a small piece of paper. 

And just like that, your chest went tight, phone falling to the tile floor and the world stopped moving.

‘I’ve found you, and I’m never letting you go. You’re going to be mine forever. Love always, B.’

The next twelve hours were a whirlwind, it was a blur. Going from your house to you managers, and now back to Golden Record headquarters at a bright and early 4am. You sat in meetings for hours, where people would talk about you as if you weren’t there. By ten in the morning it was decided that the letter was a threat and you needed a new apartment and a permanent body guard. By eleven, a firm had been hired and a detail was on the way.  By noon you were being shuffled away to a new apartment with a large broody man who was referred to as Miller. 

You had never felt so tired in your life, being awake going on twenty eight hours now and coming down from a hit of adrenaline had really taken all you had left to give. You sunk into the leather seats of the large black SUV and let out a large sigh clenching your fists and closing your eyes. 

You glanced over taking in the man who was assigned to be your detail for the next three days. Three days on, rotating between Miller and Jones they said, two private details until they decided there was no threat to your life. 

Miller, first name unknown, was quite handsome. He had thick brown hair and soft waves, he was wearing all black t-shirt and jeans that fit is form extremely well. He was toned. But not to the point of being “chiseled”, his jaw was square and there was a seriousness to him. It made him look threatening even. He pulled out his phone briefly as the car started moving and you could see his jaw tighten at whatever message he had received. 

“So is Miller what I am supposed to call you? Or Is there a first name that goes along with it?” You asked through a yawn. 

“Joel Miller,” He said quickly, not even glancing in your direction. 

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Joel.” You said. An awkward silent fell between you, you shifted in your seat. 

As if by grace of the gods, your phone began ringing loudly. 

Joel glanced to see if there was caller ID, it was just your mother. A conversation you’re sure couldn’t be delayed, but you dreaded it none the less. 

“Hey mom,” you sighed.

“Why did I have call you?!” She started. “You’d think that when something like this happens I’d find out from my OWN daughter, not her manager telling me she won’t be recording today!” 

You just put her on speaker and let her berate you for not telling her, you scrolled through twitter wondering how your interviews were being received. 

“Are you even listening to me?! You don’t have anything to say for yourself?!” She dramatized. 

“Mom, I’m really sorry. Everything happened so fast and I was in meetings all night. I was about to call y-“ 

“I don’t want to hear excuses, this is stupid. You’re being dramatic, if you had thought this through you could have recorded today.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you droned. 

It wasn’t an uncommon track to play, you get blamed for something out of your control and you apologize for something that wasn’t your fault. 

“I didn’t have a whole ton of material today anyway. I’ll make sure we do double time tomorrow and I was going to write this afternoon,” you said hoping you were reaching the end of the conversation. 

“Good, you’re not popular enough to slack off. One popular song isn’t the promise of a career,” She said in a matter of fact tone. 

“I know, I’ll keep working on it,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

Joel had been so quiet next to you, not seeming interested at all in the conversation at hand. For the best, every time you spoke with your mother, she took a small piece of your soul with her. Breaking you down into the perfect little star, nothing left of who you once were.

“Great! Make sure you don’t waste the potential of this! Crisis’ creates hits! Alright my love, Jan and I are meeting for breakfast on Fifth so I have to go! Next time you’re in New York we’ll catch up” 

“Yeah, talk so-,” the call ended before you could finish your sentence. 

At least she was happy, and you needed to lay down for the foreseeable future. You rubbed your temple and sighed, you just wanted to curl up and cry until there wasn’t anything left. 

As soon as you arrived at the new apartment you noticed your clothes packed neatly away for you, it comforted you knowing you wouldn’t have to go back to the house. You laid down fully clothed on your bed, finally alone for the first time in twenty-nine hours, and you let yourself cry. 

By the time you had woken up it was nearly dark out, the sun had made its descent past the Los Angeles skyline and all that was left were the warm oranges and reds of the evening. 

You were still tired but needed to get up, eat and do a bit of work. You grabbed your phone to check the time, 7:31. You noticed a few missed texts from your dad back home, your manager, and saw a headline on twitter about a police presence at your house. 

You swiped away the twitter notifications not wanting to be reminded what a nightmare the last day was. You opened the text conversation with your dad, certain he just wanted to check in. 

Hey Kiddo, hope you’re doing okay? Mom called, here for you. 

No surprise there, they divorced as soon as you had moved out for good, but she would always call to prove a point. To let him know that she knew something before he did. 

Hi Dad, I’m ok, uneasy but ok. Talk soon :)

Your manager had texted you the phone number of both security details and the company they worked for just incase something were to go awry. 

You made your way to the living room, Joel was there sitting at the island on his phone. You made your way to the fridge not surprised to find it empty. You sighed pulling out your phone to order delivery. 

“You hungry?” You asked him. 

“Huh?” He looked confused. You noticed he had put his phone away and was standing again. 

“I’m gonna order some Thai food, do you want me to grab you something?” You explained. 

“Oh, uh, that’s alright, thank you though.”

You noted he had a slight southern accent. 

“Well there’s no food here so…” you trailed. 

“Well just grab whatever and I’ll eat some of it,” you nodded in return.

It didn’t take long for your food to arrive, you and Joel both grabbed a plate and ate in silence. You hated every second of it. You’re not sure he felt it though, the uncomfortable silence between you. 

After eating you grabbed your headphones and made your was to the living room. You had to have something to show for yourself in the studio tomorrow. You could tell there was frustration around your deluxe edition, you had recorded and scrapped three songs this week alone. 

Just as you were grabbing your guitar your phone started ringing on the table. 

James 

You answered immediately. 

“James! What’s up?” You were excited to hear from your best friend. 

“Hey girl! Some crazy shit going down this morning?” He asked. 

“Something like that,” you sighed, giving him just a few details of the past day.

“Well, I’m here if you need me. I did have a question though?” 

“What’s up?” 

“How would you like to come out with some friends tomorrow? We have a table at new bar and it might be fun, take some stress off!”

“I-,” you started, being cut off immediately. 

“Before you shut me down you only have to come for like ONE drink,” He said emphasizing the ‘one’.

You sighed, “Fine. ONE drink. Text me the details and I’ll run it past my security team.” 

“Fancy ass security team. Are they at least hot?” 

You scoffed. 

“So they’re super hot,” he made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Okay, I’m hanging up now. Love you, bye!” You said ending the call before any more words could be exchanged. 

You phone buzzed immediately. It was James. 

Lucky bitch! Send a picture ;) here’s the details for tomorrow xo.

[attachment: 1 image] 

A screenshot with the details. You loved the message and left it at that. 

“So what are you running past your security team?” Joel inquired, your head snapped in his direction. 

“Drinks with a friend tomorrow, at an exclusive restaurant.” You showed him the screenshot. 

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” He sounded unsure. 

“I’m not really asking; I mean I am, but if there’s even a slight chance I’d like to go.” 

Joel sighed and scratched his temple, “Alright.” 

“Great, you can stay here if you want. I don’t think going out with a large group requires this level of security.” You pushed to see what the answer would be. 

“Do you have any concern for your own safety?” He scoffed toward you. 

“It was an empty threat, Miller. Look I can appreciate everyones concern for my safety, but this is hardly the worst thing anyones said to me.” Your annoyance was no longer easily masked. 

He inhaled sharply at your remark as if it surprised him.

“Yeah, but most of the time the things people say aren’t in an envelope on your door.” 

You just sighed in return. 

“Alright well, then you come with me. No use getting up in arms about it.”

The dark and broody man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Somehow it made him look exceptionally powerful. The muscles in his arms moved and shifted showing how well defined they were, he had a few tattoos that peaked out from below his t-shirt sleeve. You had realized your were staring and quickly turned to look down at your notebook, Joel still in your peripheral.  

“So is there any reason you took this job, Joel Miller?” You asked as you reached for your guitar again, finally starting on a song. You had a soft tune stuck in your head since your meeting with the security team earlier that day that you had to put to chords. 

“I don’t think knowing about my personal life is keeping you any safer,” he grumbled. 

“Maybe not safer, but more comfortable with my situation perhaps.” You continued to hum the same tune over again. Scribbling lyrics into your notebook. 

Not what I meant when I said that, I wanted to be seen. 

“Well, Miller? Why private security?” You pressed. 

“My uh- my kid. It is just her and I, the gig pays well and I’ve been told I look like an attack dog before.” 

That made you laugh. 

“Whoever said that, I whole heartedly agree,” you smiled at him. 

“I’ll do it if I have to,” you hummed, “hope and dun na in between.”

Quickly jotting down the first part of that lyric, hoping the second half would just come to you. 

“So, this kid, tell me about them?” You asked strumming some barre chords. 

“No.”

“Oh come on! Her name? Her age? Anything?”

“Have you ever been told you’re too friendly? That you pry?” He scoffed. 

“Most people don’t seem to have problems with it funny enough,” you quipped. 

“Ellie, she’s fourteen,” he hesitated, “she like jokes, the outdoors and playing guitar.” 

He was very grumbly and reluctant. You could help but smile at the fact at at least today he would talk to you. 

“Well if she’s any good you should bring her to the studio! Maybe she can help me get out of my slump,” you chuckled smiling at him. 

For a moment his face softened and he smiled lightly at you. It sent a chill down your spine, he was handsome when he was hard and cold. But that moment of softness made your stomach do backflips. You quickly looked back down. 

“Dun dun little empire and made a mm mm mess,” you jotted that down. 

“She’d uh love that you know. Thanks,” Joel interrupted momentarily. 

You smiled and nodded for at him. He didn’t say anything else after that leaving you to record little voice notes here and there.

You got on a bit of a roll writing this song. It had finally sparked something exciting in you. Maybe writing something your mom would detest was what you needed to do more often. She only ever wanted a breakup ballad or an upbeat song. The songs that you loved most though were the ones that pulled from your soul, explained the pressure you were under. They were the flowers that bloomed in your darkest parts, picking them and presenting them hoping someone would understand you. 

As you worked Joel sat on the stool on his phone, or worked away on his laptop you’re sure filling out reports for the day. You couldn’t help but stare as he worked. It made your song writing take exponentially longer, but he was just mesmerizing. You’d never felt a pull like this to anyone. Maybe it was his mysterious demeanour or his unparalleled looks or even the sense that he was a bit dangerous. Any way about it he was off limits.

You knew everything in your head was off limits, but fantasies weren’t going to hurt anyone. Joel Miller was devilishly sharp and handsome, and you were going to be spending a lot of time together in the coming weeks. 

By the time midnight rolled around again you had the bones of a song and a headache to match. You yawned and stretches your back, it ached from being hunched over your notebook. 

“Right, well, I think it’s time for me to go to bed, Joel.” You closed your book and stood up. 

“Alright, have a good sleep. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall in the security room.”

You nodded taking him in one more time, his salt and pepper hair, tight fitting t-shirt and chiseled jaw sent you into a frenzy. 

“Anything else y’a need?” He looked at you confused. 

“Oh, uh no, goodnight!” You turned on your heels embarrassment flooded your system. 

This was a bad crush, but when he looked at you it was electric. No matter what you felt when he looked at you, you’re sure it was one sided. Your fantasies had to stay just as they were, no matter what.

track two

tags: @joelsversion @tightjeansjavi @pedgeitopascalreads @wand-erer5 @orcasoul @quality-lust @bearsbeetsbeskar (once again new fic new tag list, if you'd like to be added lmk, if you want to be tagged in everything i post just lmk, i don't wanna tag anyone who doesnt want it 🥺❤️)

[eiidolon]

Waiter!! Waiter!!! More screenshots of other peoples jokes edited onto hockey players please!!!! (2/?)

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 14 - DREAM CATCHER | Episode 6 - Relaxation Research

Kazunari: Yes, yes… Ahh, I see~. Roger that. For now, I’ll make those revisions and send it back to you~...

Kazunari: Yes, goodbye.

*Beep*

Kazunari: Haahh…

Kazunari: (Another no-go~... I think that’s like the fifth time.)

Kazunari: (I knew things would be different from when I was a student, but all this criticism is starting to take a toll on my self-confidence~.)

Kazunari: (I know I went to art school and all, but that was for Japanese painting, so I’m basically entirely self-taught when it comes to design.)

Kazunari: (I feel like my lack of knowledge of the fundamentals is holding me back.)

Kazunari: (I’ve been able to make things work so far because the people who already know me well enough have asked me to do what I’m good at, but…)

Kazunari: (If I wanna be able to meet the wide range of expectations of a bigger client base, doing the same thing I’ve always done probably isn’t gonna work out.)

Kazunari: (Maybe I should seriously brush up on my design skills again~.)

Kazunari: Design… Course… Advanced…

Kazunari: (“Online Courses”, “Design Study Abroad”... There sure are a lot of ‘em~.)

*Door opens*

Muku: I’m home.

Kazunari: Welcome backsies~.

Muku: Ah, sorry, are you in the middle of work?

Kazunari: It’s all good. You’re home early today, Mukkun.

Muku: I think I’m going to go take a walk and look around Veludo Way.

Muku: I know some of the new theater troupes have been doing street acts there lately, so I thought it might be informative to watch some of them.

Kazunari: Gotcha~, I think I’ll tag along and take a little break then!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Muku: There are new theater troupes all over the place.

Muku: Some of them focus on theatrical plays, some focus on dance or physical expression, some of them specialize in musicals…

Muku: And then there are some unusual ones, like a cross between cooking and theater, or a cross between muscle training and theater…

Kazunari: Maybe their aim is just to differentiate themselves from the other troupes, but regardless, there’s still a lotta unexpected and exciting things~.

Kasumi: Oh? Muku-kun and Kazunari-kun?

Muku: Hello!

Kazunari: You out shopping, Kasumiinu?

Kasumi: I am. I was just at the bookstore. Today’s the release date of “The Saintess is Omitted”. Do you read it too, Muku-kun?

Muku: Ah! That’s right, the release date was today! Of course, I read it!

Muku: I’ve been following the standard storyline of the saintess up to now, and it’s been really interesting to see the surprising turn of events that caused the tables to be turned completely.

Muku: And I really love the charm of heroines who are more hero-like!

Muku: I never would’ve imagined I’d forget about the release date… How did I forget about it…?

Muku: My memory’s as useless as eraser dust…

Kazunari: Things have been pretty hectic lately~. It’s not your fault.

Kasumi: Is the troupe doing okay? Things must be rough with the new Fleur Award and all.

Kazunari: We’re all working our hardest to come up with a plan~. Spring Troupe’s performance was a hit and our rank went up.

Muku: We’re a little anxious, but Summer Troupe is going to try our best too!

Kasumi: I see. I’m sure all of you in Summer Troupe will do just fine.

Kasumi: Ah, right. I have something I wanted to give you, Muku-kun.

Muku: ?

*Paper rustles*

Kasumi: This is a flyer for an upcoming play, and since the leading role is a prince, I couldn’t help but think of you, Muku-kun.

Kasumi: It’s a performance with a long history, and it’s performed at the National Theater with a different cast every year.

Kasumi: I know it might be none of my business, but I’m sure it’d be wonderful to see you standing at position zero as a prince up on such a big stage, Muku-kun.

Muku: B-But I’m not sure I’m capable of taking on a role as big as the lead in an outside performance yet…!

Kasumi: I don’t think that’s true at all. I think you’re definitely capable of being on a stage like that one.

Kazunari: You have tons of experience, Mukkun. Dontcha think that’s why Kasumiinu told you about it in the first place~?

Muku: T-Thank you very much. I feel a little more confident in myself when you put it like that.

Muku: I’ll try and look into the stage too.

Kasumi: Okay. Well then, bye.

*Kasumi walks away*

Muku: …

Muku: (“Audition Notice”, huh… I wonder if I can really stand on such a big stage like that too someday.)

Muku: (But right now…)

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[lavellenchanted]

wip wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @beachy--head!

Here are a few snippets from some of the very many wips I have languishing in my docs, which you are all very welcome to kick me about should you wish.

Dr Cho coughs gently, and Steve starts a little in surprise. He had forgotten for a moment where they are, and realises abruptly that he has, in fact, started leaning in towards Peggy without realising. He jerks back, face warm, but Dr Cho is smiling gently, looking between them with curious eyes. “Well,” she says, “I can certainly see why you had trouble resisting each other. But did the fact that you were cohabiting give you any hesitation about beginning a relationship?” “Uh - yeah,” Steve coughs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. This is where the line between truth and lie begins to blur, and he can’t quite bring himself to look her in the eye. “I mean, I knew I had feelings for her long before I acted on them. But I thought it might be a bad idea . . . what if it didn’t work and living together suddenly became much more awkward? What if being in each other’s space all the time is too much pressure on a new relationship? What if it screwed up a friendship that’s really important to me?” “And how did you deal with that? What was it that made you decide to act on your feelings despite your concerns?” “W- well . . .” Briefly Steve falters, because of course the truth is that he hasn’t dealt with them. Those concerns have kept his mouth shut for a year, even as his feelings for Peggy grew and became more intense with each passing day.  But then Peggy cuts across him, saying wryly, “Dutch courage.”

--

“Can you honestly say I’m wrong?”  Edwina takes a long sip of her lemonade - not particularly tasteful, but still appropriately sour - as she considers her answer. Last year she would have made some vague, conciliatory remark intended to smooth Eloise’s ruffled feathers and keep the peace, that revealed nothing of her true thoughts. Perhaps last year she would not have known what her true thoughts really were. Today she lowers her glass, and looks Eloise in the eye as she says, “No, I do not think you are wrong, per se, but I think you don’t recognise your own privilege in being able to say so.” Eloise snorts. “My privilege? You mean the privilege of having a brain?” A flash of irritation gives bite to Edwina’s reply, “No, I mean the privilege of having a wealthy, powerful and loving family that can support you.” 

--

In that spirit he makes his way down to the river. He bathed properly at the Grove, eager to be rid of the stench and muck of the goblins, but who knows when there might be another chance even for a brief wash? And there is something meditative about splashing cool water on his face and feeling the drops trail down his neck and shoulders.  It's as he raises his head, shaking some of the excess water from his hair, that Halsin realises he is not the only one awake as he had thought. The one who seems to be leading this group, the drow woman who freed him from his cage, sits atop one of the rocky outcrops by the river, head tilted back and eyes closed as she apparently enjoys the early morning sunlight.

--

“Hey.” He was sitting at his desk but got to his feet as she climbed inside, eyes raking over her like he might be able to discern what was wrong just from looking at her. “What’s going on?”  “That . . . is a long story.” Maya gave a wry smile, shoving her hands into her pockets and looking around his room to avoid looking directly at him.  He had redecorated since the last time she was here, the walls now the shade of red she knew was his favourite apart from one brick feature wall. A poster of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid hung on one wall, while on another was a pinboard covered in photos of his friends in both Texas and New York, ticket stubs and flyers from concerts and ball games he’d been to.  A bookcase was filled half with books, half with video games, and in pride of place on one shelf was a signed baseball that Maya remembered him bragging about catching at a game he and Zay had been at last year. The hand he’d caught it with had been bruised for a good couple of weeks, but Lucas had insisted it was worth it. There was also a Luke Skywalker action figure, and next to it was a small, burlap sack with a label that read Sack O’ Gold. And hanging off the edge, she realised with delight, was a cowboy hat

I'm tagging @emilykaldwen, @wheremermaidsdwell, @roboticonography and as always, my meme buddy @theawkwardterrier, if you guys want to play!

[space-mermaid-writing]

Stark Tailoring Inc. [IronStrange]

Summary: After his accident Stephen sold almost everything. But for his new job he needs a suit. So he goes to the place a friend recommended to him: Stark Tailoring.

Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Tags: IronStrange, Tailor AU, fluff, insecure Stephen Strange, no powers, just the regular flirting of Tony Stark, different first meetings

Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 1.1k | Previous | Next

Chapter 3: Picking up the suit

They had an additional fitting for the shirt they ordered and that day Stephen also brought the first check to Tony.

The second followed two weeks later when he picked everything up. Tony sent him to the dressing room again and told him to change.

The tailor was waiting outside this time. He was bent over his tablet when he heard the rustling of the curtain. He looked up – and Stephen thought that this first glance alone was worth the money he paid for the suit.

Tony beamed at him, obviously pleased with his own work. He stepped closer and adjusted the collar of Stephen's shirt, with what would under other circumstances be an intimate gesture but was probably very common in the day of a tailor. At least that’s what Stephen told himself.

“Look at you all dressed up nicely!” Tony cooed at him, taking a step back.

Stephen immediately missed his warmth, but suppressed the urge to follow him. Instead, he stepped in front of the mirror.

He did look good (besides his face. He still didn’t dare to pick up a razor). The suit fitted perfectly and his butt looked nice when he turned around. Stephen hadn't felt this good since before his accident. With this realization, a part of his former self-confidence came back.

“It’s not bad,” he agreed nonchalantly.

“Not bad?” Tony puffed up. “It’s a masterpiece!” He noticed Stephen's teasing smile and rolled his eyes before mirroring the smile.

“You will be the best dressed person at your event. Unless another of my suits attends. Then it’s a tie.”

He probably wasn’t wrong about that.

Since there weren’t any alterations necessary, Stephen changed back into his clothes and Tony rang him up. Peter wasn't in the shop today to do that. Maybe the boy just worked part-time. Or maybe he was still at school.

Stephen's gaze fell on a flyer of New York fashion week that was only a few weeks away.

Of course, even the doctor, while not into fashion, had heard of the event. Every year the streets were full of fashion enthusiasts, a lot of them in questionable outfits.

“So, fashion week,” he said vaguely, because maybe he wanted to stall a bit without being too obvious about it. He would never admit it, but he strove for Tony’s attention. He grew to like the man and with no further appointments in sight he felt somewhat sad about it.

He banished the voice from his mind that told him he had a hopeless crush.

Tony followed his gaze and shrugged. “Yep.” He popped the p. “I don’t think I’ll go this year. I’ve got a lot of work to do here in the shop and I don’t really feel inspired.”

Besides that, organizing a runway show took months in advance. At least if he wanted a good venue and time slot.

Sure, Pepper took care about those details, but like he said: he wasn't inspired. And he rather attended as a VIP guest or even not at all before he threw together a half-hearted collection.

Tony didn’t rule out that he changed his mind – it wouldn’t be his first time pulling all-nighters on short notice. But he rather focused on just making suits for now.

What most people didn’t know was that fashion designer and tailor were two entirely different fields. It was one thing to have an idea and draw it on paper but another to bring it to life that it was actually wearable.

There was no shame in just designing. On the contrary, a lot of people didn’t realize how hard it was to think of something with the potential to be a hit. A designer had to be innovating, bold and predicting what people would want to wear next year.

A good designer followed the trends.

A great designer came up with the trends. He was a futurist.

Every designer had a team of seamstresses, dressmakers and tailors on his hand who helped to bring the designer’s vision to life. Stark Tailoring Inc in fact had its very own tailor department.

But Tony was also proud to call himself a tailor. He was proud to know how to wield and manipulate fabric to give it a certain look and bend it a certain way. He knew how to mix patterns and textures to create something extraordinary.

It was a form of art. To transform a flat piece of fabric into a three dimensional piece of clothing.

Tony loved it. That was why he still worked at the old tailor shop his father opened back in the late 30s. Or why he made the sample pieces for his runway shows himself.

Now, Tony didn’t tell Strange any of this because – to be honest – the doctor didn’t seem like the kind of person whose interest in fashion went further than the average suit. Which was a shame, really, since he was the most interesting customer Tony had in a long time.

He still wasn’t sure if Strange had the hots for him or was just super embarrassed by Tony’s flirting nature.

“I think those runway shows are overrated anyway,” Stephen said with such disdain in his voice that Tony almost burst out laughing.

“Yeah?” he asked, suddenly very interested in what else the man got to say about it.

“Yes.” Strange nodded. “I don’t understand why the media always reacts overly excited or shocked every time. It’s just clothes and from what I’ve seen so far, a lot of that stuff up there isn’t wearable anyway.”

Those were the most opinionated words Tony had heard from Strange all weeks.

“You know, you’re not wrong there,” he pointed out.

His agreement seemed to surprise Stephen, as if the doctor just remembered where he was. “You probably shouldn’t tell your boss I said this. You know since he’s…”

He trailed off but Tony echoed, “He’s what?” His eyes sparkling with amusement and anticipation. It was impossible to guess what Strange would say next.

Stephen thought for a moment about how best to describe it, before he simply said, “A designer.” As if it would explain everything. “If he even ever comes down here to the shop.”

Everybody knew the tower Stark Fashion owned. It was very central with big letters on the front.

Tony almost gave it away, but bit his tongue last second. He was not sure if he would ever see this strange man again, and he liked to remain just Tony the tailor for him. Also, his honest words were refreshing and Tony preferred them over the butt kissing folks he usually had to deal with.

“I won’t tell him you said that.” Tony winked. There was no need in telling something he already heard.

Stephen smiled somewhat awkwardly and grabbed his garment bag, sensing that it was time to finally go. He nodded a last time to Tony, before he turned to leave.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Tony called after him, because he couldn’t help it. He neither saw the small smile nor the faint blush on Stephen’s face since the doctor was already out of the door.

[sspaz1000]

Ten Lines

I was tagged by @blackandwhiteandrose @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mammameesh

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the midpoint, pick a line (or three), and share it! Then tag other people.

Wow, y’all are out there making me step out of my comfort zone and promoting my work!

1) Last posted work in my drabble series:  Wedding

 Later that night, David whispered to Patrick, “Thank you.”

2) My first SC fic: There’s a First Time for Everything

David pulled away slightly, “Would you believe this is the first New Year’s I’ll be sober and not strung out?”

Patrick turned and looked at him with those soft eyes. “Oh, David.” He wrapped his arms around him a little tighter. “What did you do the first couple years here?”

“Got drunk and high with Stevie.”

“Right, her 12 bottles of wine, 1 day thing. So it’s not just for Christmas?”

David nodded. “That is correct.” David moved away, towards his overnight bag.

3)  Second ever fic, The Twelve Days Before Christmas plus 2 bonus days

David pulls the chairs out and they sit talking about their day, agreeing Stevie had the worst of them. None of them want to imagine Roland in weird positions on the roof.

They sit and drink and laugh, reminiscing about the last time they did this.

Patrick smiles, “It was when David called me his boyfriend.”

Stevie looks at David and says, “So, do you still excel as a solo artist like Beyoncé, or has that changed?”

David glares at her. “Both. Definitely both.”

4) My pandemic Holiday fic: All I want for Christmas (is Quarantine to End)

“The numbers guy wouldn’t lie to you. I’ve done some renegotiating on things so we could expand our shipping budget, but I’m pretty sure by the end of the year with the holidays coming up we will see a profit.”

David takes a deep breath and tries not to let the tears fall, but they start coming anyway. Patrick soothes him, “It’s okay. I know why you are afraid.” The store is going to be okay and we will get through this. You are not a failure if anything happens. We are not failures.”

5) My Different first meeting AU: Yukon Strike My Heart Ablaze

And are you sure you didn’t accidentally match with Ray?” David smirks and starts to unpack some more candles.

“Mmm. Do I though? I’m pretty sure you’re having me and Stevie help here a lot. And ew, David, don’t ever joke about matching with Ray.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Grab that box of lotions for me.”

6)  Missing scene fic from Friends and Family: I will help you out, if you let me

Patrick notices a smile across David’s face as he embraces David. He can’t help, but feel David’s strong and sturdy chest against his own. The smell of his woodsy cologne with a hint of vanilla.

Hmm, I’ve never thought about that before.

Patrick leans into all these thoughts crowding his mind when the hug goes for a beat too long, but Patrick did not want to break contact with David’s warm body. The lights flicker.

Fuck!

7)  My Kink fic: You Just Wanna Feel What Can’t be Known

David peers out of the closet, “Patience, Patrick.” He gives Patrick a once over. His face giving away the soft smirk, he reserves for Patrick. The way Patrick looks restrained on the bed. He will never not get used to seeing his husband laid out on their bed for him. To have fun with. David never knew sex could be fun and that you can laugh and its okay.

8) Not a fic but I did like the flyers I came up with in Canva for an Abestos Fest

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28869462

9)  My first Drabble: Volunteer

“This was not a part of my mood board.” David flips his hands.

10) Another drabble fic: Burst: Happy Edition

“I got the money. Now you can pay me.”

This was so hard especially since apparently now most of my SC fics are drabbles. 

[sleepyowlwrites]

find the word tag CCCLVIII

in case anybody was wondering, my favorite soundtrack is from the LoZ: Skyward Sword, the game I spent every Sunday afternoon for over a year working on completing it with the help of my best friend (this term is misleading because I have/had a lot of those) and often listened to the soundtrack separately while doing schoolwork (or avoiding it). this soundtrack still slaps and I still adore it.

I'd also like it noted that I was doing this tag while playing wizard101 and I didn't die. @kaiusvnoir @akindofmagictoo

silent (city story d0)

He doesn’t mean to storm into the garage so angrily, because he isn’t even that worked up yet, but Jet manages to startle Shadow into falling off the stepladder he’s on when he announces to the room, “We’ve got trouble.”

“No, we don’t,” Rune contradicts, following behind him and glaring when he glances back at her. “There is no trouble, and it really doesn’t concern you.”

“What’s going on?” Shadow picks himself up off the floor and punches Jet in the arm as he passes him.

Rune is silent, looking like she doesn’t want to be answering any questions. That’s fine. Jet can just make all the assumptions he wants about the situations, then. Either she’ll let him or stop clamming up.

“Someone is looking for Rune and he means to hurt her,” Jet explains.

shuffle (summon story d0)

He was lucky to be alive, probably. His ribs ached, but he again ignored that as best he could while trying to get his feet underneath him. Zan felt around for Shrader’s Summoner’s Manual. The cover was worn and the pages had a variety of stains, but it was legible, and Zan treasured it. Or, he had.

His ribs ached and his fingers struggled to grasp the book when he found it. Zan blinked hard and careful shuffled through the pages to find the one he’d used to make the array he’d just been knocked out by.

“An array itself has only the power the summoner gives to it via the sacrifice used,” he recited, lips splitting from the effort. He wiped them on his wrist cuff and studied the array. Clearly he’d forgotten something, or his sacrifice wouldn’t have been taken without him getting anything in return.

space (sleepy stash)

“There’s a little art gallery opening up where the old furniture store used to be,” his mom says over dinner.

Jake shovels rice in his mouth and hums his acknowledgment. He’s seen the flyers.

“Hope they have better luck with the space,” his grandpa says. “That shop never sold, and before that, it’s been owned by a dozen other businesses. Nobody ever stays long. A gallery would be nice, since we’ve got so many more artists now that the public has remembered our beautiful scenery.”

Jake wipes his mouth with his hand before using a napkin when his mom gives him a look. “How come nobody stays in that place for long?”

“Well,” and his grandpa has that storyteller look in his eye that makes him mom roll hers and get up to start clearing the table, “I reckon it’s been cursed at some point, but of course nobody believes in that kind of thing anymore. When I was dating your grandma, there was a shop that sold marbles to the kids, you know? Among other things, but I remember the marbles.”

sleep (city story d0)

“D’you need clothes to sleep in?” Jet is already thinking about something of Copper’s that could work.

“I keep a change in my bag at all times. I’m good.”

Jet folds his arms to have something to do. “Why at all times?”

“In case I need to crash somewhere unfamiliar.”

“I’m unfamiliar?”

Rune does smile, and it’s just as sad as if she hadn’t.

beautiful (city story d0)

“What about you, then?”

Jet blinks. “What about me?”

“Do you want me in return?”

What an open, horribly beautiful offering. Jet scrapes his tongue along his teeth while he chews on it. For some reason, accepting her support feels much more monumental, like she’s worth more, and he is only a tool.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, and it comes out a little mangled, probably from the tears that have been dug up from his back closet to coat his words with emotional residue.

vision (but I was a bird you couldn't cage, 2021)

You were a vision with my eyes closed Your radiance was just too much to bear I still dream of moving far away Because I’m hoping to escape There’s a ship along the coast to take me there

child (city story d0)

Yarrow continues, “Now, Rune isn’t the same. She asked me if I wanted to crash at her place twice already, but I said no because my mom would worry. The point here is that Rune doesn’t feel the same about her personal space that Jet does. Honestly, I’d expect Jet to fall in love with Rune first, if that’s ever going to happen. But that’s not what we’re talking about. Rune is not in love with Jet because she wouldn’t hesitate to inform him if that were the case, but I couldn’t be sure Jet would know that, so I told you. Just now.”

Sometimes it pays to have observant friends. Yarrow is so selectively observant, though, and Jet wishes he could’ve overlooked this particular development. It’s bad enough hearing his brother and Rune both parrot his state of mind back to him, but to know that he’s so see-through that Yarrow, the group’s resident flower child, also just knows random deep things about him, is more than a little unsettling.

raise (city story d0)

“Give me your number,” she commands, waiting with her thumbs poised to type it in. When she raises her eyes to his, they’re too sharp for the demand to be mistaken as a question. “Jet.”

There’s a long list of things Jet hates, some of them extremely understandable and a bunch of them much more petty. Being backed into a corner he really could get out of but it requiring him to be an unwarranted asshole to someone who absolutely doesn’t deserve it is on the more petty side, even if it does damage his image as an asshole who really doesn’t care whether anyone deserves that behavior from him. It’s all Copper’s doing, it has to be, this gradual shift from him never caring about what others think of him and actually stopping to consider it once in a while.

Rune hasn’t said anything further, but her gaze could cut glass.

Jet bites down a stream of curses and gives her his number.

storm, alive, worth, corner. BONUS: monumental, sacrifice. @yejiwritesthings @talesofsorrowandofruin @nikkywrites @livvywrites @aalinaaaaaa @writing-with-melon I feel...so out of the writeblr loop despite being on tumblr every day just to see what everyone else is up to. this is weird. I'm doing a tag and it's weird. also listen to Batreaux's Theme. it's great.