#fic wip

[sister-lucifer]

A Lovely Awakening: A Preview

Cws: consensual somno, trans masc reader, needy Toby

A/N: this is a WIP from literal years ago that i found, enjoy. definitely will be finishing this

God, you looked so soft when you slept. 

That was the only word to describe it. Soft.  

So unbearably soft that your perfect skin begged for Toby’s touch. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at you from the doorway, but even he knew it was becoming a little unsettling. He found it hard to move, though, as was debating with himself quite harshly at the moment. 

He wanted to reach out and run his hands over you, to feel you the way he knew you’d let him, but he wouldn’t dare wake you. You’d had such a long day, you deserved the nap, but… 

Fuck, he was so needy. 

He thought back to the conversation you’d had a few days prior when he’d shyly approached you with the idea of waking you up by eating you out, or even just touching you while you slept. There was no nice way to ask a question like that, and it took a lot of your restraint to keep from pointing out how red in the face he was, though you couldn’t blame him. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to respond the way you did.

“Toby, you don’t have to be so embarrassed,” You had assured him, “It’s okay if you need me while I’m asleep.” 

He remembered the way you’d ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead in an attempt to calm his nerves. 

“That sounds like a lovely idea, sweetheart. I’d be more than happy to allow you that.” 

The nickname made his heart skip a beat. He loved when you used that soft tone with him, always accompanied by a hug or gentle kiss. 

You’d talked a bit more about it after that, smoothing out some of the finer details and assuring Toby many times that you were not only comfortable with but excited about the idea. 

And yet, he was still worried.

He had no reason to be, really, but he didn’t want to do anything wrong. He didn’t want to—God forbid—scare you off, even if you’d said it yourself that he could never do that. 

He sighed as he approached your sleeping form, looking over you again. Your shirt had been pushed up to your chest, exposing your perfect tummy that he loved so much. You’d kicked off most of your blankets which were now laying around you if they hadn’t already fallen to the floor. Your chest rose and fell slowly with each of your quiet breaths. 

Soft. 

That’s how you felt under his hands when he finally reached out to touch you, tracing the tips of his fingers from your chest down to your stomach, pulling away when he reached the waistband of your sweatpants. 

Wrong, he thinks, it’s wrong for me to want this, isn’t it? 

But he can’t make himself completely agree. 

He keeps thinking about that endlessly kind smile you gave him, the one that eased all his nerves and melted his anxiety down to nothing after he awkwardly stuttered out his proposition. You were being so genuine, without a hint of disgust or judgement swirling in the back of your beautiful eyes. 

Before he can think his hands are back on you, gently sliding up and down your sides and pushing your shirt up a bit further. 

God, you are so soft. 

[moonspirit]

Trying to get into the mindset of Aruani angst and Aruani fight and yet all I have in my head are filthy thoughts...

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch

[wheatnoodle]

modern steddie where everyone moves off and unless they live near each other, they don’t really talk as much as they used to. robin and steve of course live together in the city on one of the coasts.

robin, like the others, will reach out every now and then and chat with some people from the old group, get coffee when they’re in town. steve, however, has apparently dropped off the face of the earth.

he doesn’t text, doesn’t call, he’s not on social media, nothing. they’re hurt, yeah, but if that’s what he needs to heal, so be it.

but robin IS on social media. and she’s been posting these pictures for the past year and a bit of her and her “best friend” as her captions label them. it’s not steve. it’s a girl. a really pretty girl with these big brown eyes and long, wavy brown hair that she likes to throw blonde highlights in to. she’s got all these freckles and moles and wears the cutest dresses and sandals seemingly everywhere they go.

her name is evie, according to the tagged account evieinthesky. sometimes robin will throw a full “evangeline” in comments and captions.

the rest of the party have seen the photos of evangeline, they even ask robin if she wants to invite her out when they visit but she always has an excuse ready why she can’t.

but then robin gets a comment on a pic of her and evie.

eddieisdead: yo is your friend uhhh,,,🔓???

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[transmascnaotoshirogane]

sobs

Legend gets a letter from Ravio every time the mailman finds them. Every single time, without fail, there will be a letter penned in purple ink, with a big ‘Mr. Hero’ written on the front, with a small scribble of a rabbit. Legend always rolls his eyes at the letters, but never wastes time opening them. He seems to look forward to them. He writes back every time. They notice him scribbling down into some paper after they’re done travelling for the day, staying close enough to the fire for some light and far enough away that nobody else can see what he writes. Sometimes, they exchange gifts. One time, Ravio gave Legend a pair of emerald earrings, so Legend sent him a ruby necklace in return. When asked about it, Legend just rolled his eyes and said that they always do it. He wears those earrings all the time, now. Ravio’s letters always have something attached to them. Dried flowers, small ribbons, sometimes even just little stones that he thinks ‘look pretty’, according to Legend. They never think anything of it. It’s nice to see Legend look forward to something. “Ledge, you got another letter!”Wind yells, waving the aforementioned letter in the air as he waits for Legend to come and get it. “It’s in the purple ink again!” “Course it is,”Legend mumbles, blinking sleep out of his eyes and making a waving motion, beckoning Wind over to bring it to him. He just woke up, and hasn’t attached his leg yet, so Wind doesn’t complain this time as he takes the letter to him. He opens it with a hum, using his teeth to tear the envelope open. Rolls his eyes at the disgusted noise Warriors let out as he dumps the contents out. Alongside the letter, there was a ribbon. A lot of ribbon actually, bunched up. It’s purple. Legend pays it no mind. He lets the ribbon-pile rest beside him on his bedroll as he reads the letter. It takes a minute for them to realise he’s being too quiet. Usually, he tells them how dramatic and stupid Ravio is as he reads the letters. This time, he isn’t saying anything. “Legend?” “Ravio is so stupid.”Legend whispers, faint and barely audible. That’s weird. Wind wouldn’t have even heard it if he wasn’t right next to him. “Why’d you whisper that?”Wind pouts. “We live for the commentary, Ledge.” “Ravio is so fucking stupid.”Legend repeats, still quiet. His eyes dart to the ribbon, and he runs his spare hand through it to break it up. Underneath all the ribbon is a ring.

[riverstories7]

Crying, because @kolumnist-art just created this portrait of Elizabeth and Darcy for my fic Reverie and Rancour.

You can find the original post of the art on AO3 here.

You can read the fic here.

[not-me-underc0ver]

Salty Tony (who's identity as Iron Man was never revealed) deciding to become a "Supervillain."

And his very first attempt at being a villain is destorying an Oscorp facility. At night when the employees should be gone.

Unbeknownst to him, that facility was where Peter was being experimented on. (Aunt May and Uncle Ben are dead).

Cue Peter making his escape in the chaos and meeting Iron Man by chance.

-

"You!"

Tony tilted his face down and was only slightly started at the sight of a disheveled teen, standing on top of a building no trace of fear.

"You saved me!" The kid was beaming at him.

-

Tony's very first attempt at being evil failed miserably and now some teen has imprinted on him.

"Supervillain" Tony with his spider son who won't leave him alone (not that he wants him to).

[queermentaldisaster]

“You need to shift, right?” Soap nodded. Ghost continued, “then shift. You're a red fox, you're small, you can rest in my lap while I drive us back to Alejandro's base.”

Guys you don't understand

They

I

ARGH

[connecting-the-stars]

Meme Template by: @braindamaged007

[sister-lucifer]

Teach Me Better Than I Know Now: A Preview

Ticci Toby x Gender Neutral Reader WIP

Genre: Fluff

cws: brief mentions of Toby’s trauma regarding his abusive father, non explicit mentions of depression/depression like symptoms

For as long as Toby remembers, he’s been nothing to nobody. 

He was born into a house that didn’t want him; a father who treated him like shit under his boot, a mother who didn’t care enough to save him, and a sister who was stolen too early to make a real difference. 

When he left that house and stumbled into the real world, it wasn’t all that unfamiliar. He couldn’t keep a steady job, couldn’t find any proper motivation, could barely function on his own. He couldn’t make himself shower or eat or brush his teeth with any sort of regularity; his body was practically rotting alive. 

By some miracle he managed to sneak into a community college with a bit of clever flair on his application and the lucky desperation of an underfunded educational institution. It wasn’t anything fancy, that’s for sure, but it’s better than nothing. Maybe this would help him get a worthwhile job, at least, once he figures out what he wants to do.

He didn’t have any expectations, any hope, any dreams…

That’s how it’d always been. 

He kept his shoulders slumped and head down as he entered the classroom on his first day. He kept his gaze on his ratty shoes for as long as he could until he had to look up to find a seat. Tired eyes like glassy, hazel marbles rolled lazily over the empty rows, a permanently addled brain doing its best to calculate where would be the least terrible to sit. 

That’s when it happened. 

That’s when he saw you for the first time. 

It was a lucky coincidence that you looked up at the same time he turned towards you, but it felt like blessed providence. His eyes widened as they fell on you, rapidly flicking over every detail of your glowing face. He was bolted to the floor as you took a moment to observe him, and he watched in slow motion as your perfect lips curled into a smile.

A real, genuine smile. 

Not a sneer or a mocking smirk, not a quick flash of a grin just because it’s common courtesy. 

You were really smiling at him. 

You even did that cute little head tilt and everything, your eyes crinkling at the corners as your face scrunched to accommodate that beautiful smile. 

That was all he needed—you had him on the hook from the jump, and you had no idea. 

[munsonkitten]

Morning comes, and Eddie finds Steve sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s pulling his underwear on, slowly sliding them up his legs like he’s trying not to jostle the mattress too much. Eddie watches him for a second while he wakes up more, eyes threatening to shut again. 

Steve turns and sees Eddie looking at him, and he looks surprised, like he’s been caught in some kind of act. 

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs. He rolls onto his back and looks up at the ceiling. 

“Morning,” Steve whispers back. He’s pulling on his socks now. 

Like he’s going to leave. 

“Where are you going?” Eddie asks. 

Steve sighs. “Dustin missed the bus. I’ll come back after I drive him, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

Eddie nods, pulls the blanket up to his chest. “Did he call here?”

“Walkie-Talkie,” Steve answers, picking up the device from beside him on the floor. “Surprised it didn’t wake you.”

Eddie shrugs and turns over onto his side again, curling up beneath his blankets. “Tell him to start setting his alarms an hour early if he’s going to do the ten-step Steve Harrington hair routine every morning.”

“He doesn’t,” Steve protests. “He said he couldn’t find the cat and panicked. You know, the last one got eaten so he’s worried about that shit.”

“That’s what he wants you to think!” Eddie says. “I bet you twenty bucks and a gram of weed he smells like your Farrah Fawcett hairspray and has his hair piled ten feet high when he gets in your car.”

“Okay first of all, Farah Fawcett hairspray has been discontinued for, like, two years. I don’t even have any of my own stock left. Can’t find it anywhere, no way Dustin’s got any left. And second, how do you know about that?”

“Oh, Stevie, baby,” Eddie croons. “I didn’t, not until now. You just confirmed it, though.”

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs. He stands and finds his jeans from last night, and then picks up a sweatshirt off Eddie’s floor. 

“I’m borrowing this,” Steve says as he pulls it over his head. His head comes out of the hole. “But seriously, man, how’d you know about the hair spray?”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie says. “Nancy told me.”

“She was sworn to secrecy!”

Eddie laughs. “You better go drive him before he’s late for school, man. Wake me when you get back.”

He wakes up again to Steve coming in through the bedroom door. He has his wallet in his hand when Eddie opens his eyes, sees Steve opening it to pull something out, and then a twenty dollar bill is being tossed toward Eddie. 

“I don’t have a gram of weed,” Steve says, petulantly. “But, to be clear, it wasn’t the Steve Harrington hair routine.”

“No?” Eddie asks, taking the money and dropping it on the nightstand. He slides his rings on top of it to keep it weighed down. 

“No,” Steve says, kicking off his jeans. He throws himself into Eddie’s bed and burrows himself under the blankets. “He’s doing the Eddie hair routine now.”

“What, get out of the shower and rub it with a towel until it’s dry?” Eddie jokes. 

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist and drags him in. 

“Fuck you, man,” Steve huffs. “I know you take care of your hair. I love your fucking hair.”

Eddie smiles a bit sadly and buries his face in Steve’s throat. Hair has always been a thing for him. Complicated at best. He likes where he’s at now, but it’s always been complicated, trying to get where he is. 

A discussion for another time, maybe, because Steve is pressing kisses to his head and letting his hands wander a bit. 

The hands wander a bit too much for eight in the morning, but Eddie finds himself not really caring at all. Not when it feels this good. Not when Steve can make him forget all the thoughts that creep back up on him when he starts to think about those complicated things.

Read more on AO3

[comatosebunny09]

These meetings always drag on for what feels like centuries.

His council drones on about something Astarion can’t be bothered to follow. It’s a bad habit he’s developed as of late, tuning out what he doesn’t deem important. Luckily, one of his advisors will catch him up on the essentials later.

Poor Astarion can’t focus to save his life, too swept up in the delectable aroma filling his lungs and the gentle shift of pressure behind him.

A glance disguised as a cough over his shoulder reveals what he already knows. Of course, it’s your fragrance turning his brain to mush. His stunning, ever-loyal bodyguard, standing in good form behind him. Your gazes meet for the briefest of seconds before you return your attention to the wall, and you quietly clear your throat. 

Astarion hides a youthful grin behind his hand when he turns back. His chest swells triumphantly as he taps his pen against the cherrywood table, feigning interest in this meeting. He’s much too distracted now, reveling in how he’s flustered you again. Always during the most inappropriate moments, wending through your stoic exterior.    

Try as you might to mask your feelings, Astarion can smell how you yearn for him. Smells pheromones wafting off your skin, blood warming your veins, and your ache for him pooling in your stomach. Best of all, he can hear how much you crave him. Your throat bobs with how thickly you swallow. Your breaths are labored, and your heart pumps eagerly to accommodate whatever nerves overhaul your body. 

Astarion fixes his collar with a wistful sigh. He cradles his cheek in his palm as he scribbles in his notebook, engulfed by the maelstrom of his thoughts. Consumed by the thought of you.  

He hasn’t the foggiest why you continue with this game of cat and mouse; why you carry on as if your fingers don’t itch to touch him. As if your lips don’t ache to feel and taste his. Like your heart doesn’t beat a little faster when he’s near. He’s adored you for quite some time now. Reserved a place in his cold, silent heart just for you, the cobwebs brushed away and sunlight slinking in through its cracks.

He hasn’t exactly been subtle with his advances.  

Often, he’ll whisper saccharine words against the shell of your ear when he passes you during his gatherings, a cautious hand smoothing your hair away from your cheek. He’s known to pilfer little glances at you during his meetings, smiling like an enamored fool when you catch him, saturating his mind with endorphins.

He tends to corner you in the safety of his quarters, caging you between his body and whatever wall you find yourself backed into. Breathes hotly against the slope of your shoulder, teasing you until your neck and cheeks explode with heat, and you’re dizzy from the headiness of it all.

Occasionally, his fingers brush against yours whilst walking side-by-side through the quiet hallways of his castle. And sometimes, he entertains the idea of holding your hand, filling the spaces between your fingers with his, and squeezing to let you know what he feels for you is very much real.   

You become such a delightful sight when you scramble for words and skitter away from his affections like you’ve been branded by fire. 

It's a game Astarion likes to play, seeing how far he can push you until your defenses crumble and you succumb to your desires. There’s no one holding a sword to your neck. No one demanding you stave off his advances or embrace them. But he knows that you know he would throw his kingdom to hell for you, craving you more than the air filtering through his lungs.

He shudders at the thought. How violently his passion burns. It’s been far too long since he’s felt like this about anyone.  

The gathering carries on in a muddled blur, filled with the useless prattle of his kingdom’s finest. He’s all but remorseful when it draws to its conclusion.

Astarion stands to bid his councilmen farewell, smiles rehearsed and handshakes firm. He’s found it easier to maintain this façade as long as he promises to reward himself with your presence. He watches through his peripheral as the last of his men trickles out. Patient as the maids scuttle in, clearing the table of water pitchers and glasses dripping condensation.

When he’s sure there is but the two of you left in the council chamber, Astarion heaves a sigh with the drop of his shoulders as if all the world’s weight sloughs off. The snicker you relent to the air behind makes him stiffen. He spins ‘round to regard you with a quirked brow, wiping the amused look from your face.

Rounding his chair, Astarion begins sauntering to you, steps measured and stare predatory.

“Tickled, are you?” drawls your king, swaddling you in all his eccentric, regal air when he stops before you.

He dwarfs you by a few inches, a concept that makes him smirk like the proverbial cat that’s caught the canary. A hand stuffed in his breeches pocket, he tenderly eases a lock of hair behind your ear, purposely grazing the edge of your ear. A shudder is elicited from your person, and Astarion’s smirk grows tenfold as his hand drops listlessly at his side.

You shake out of your trance, fixing your gaze on anything but him. With your hands still clasped at the small of your back, you say, “Not at all, Majesty. You just look like you survived the apocalypse.”

Astarion scoffs, throwing his hand up with a dramatic flair. “With how these idiots carry on, I might as well have.”

Another laugh rumbles in your throat, yet you quickly correct yourself, remembering your decorum.

[wheatnoodle]

i love you, evangeline.

part1

-

robin’s been staring at it all night.

eddie munson. their third of a trio bestie they haven’t seen in years. eddie munson is asking about a girl he thinks he doesn’t know. she hasn’t said a word to evie, doesn’t even know how. that’s not something you can just drop into conversation.

“hey that guy you were like gay in love with but never told just asked if you’re single but doesn’t know you’re you, goodnight!” NO!!

so she lays in her full size bed (literally feels like she has so much room compared to her twin bed back in hawkins), contemplating what the good lord above would want her to do. it’s just gone one in the morning when she makes her decision.

robinabucks: hey eds :)) so here’s the thing

robinabucks: yes, she’s single. but,,,i would prefer it if u didn’t reach out to her or anything

robinabucks: ima be honest, idk if she’s ur type n i don’t want her to get excited

seen pops up under her final message only two seconds after it’s sent and she’s slamming her phone down on her mattress.

eddieisdead: robbie!! hey!! :D

eddieisdead: i get what u mean :/ but i also know my type better than u do

eddieisdead: just seeing as like. im me LOL

eddieisdead: gimme a CHANCE bro ill worship the fuckin ground she walks on i swear😭😭

robin can’t stop the little smile quirking the corners of her lips. her evie has been through too much to be treated like anything less than a queen. she knows eddie’s a good guy. but it’s his possible feelings on evie’s…history…that has her placing herself between the two. she knows he’s not homophobic, he tries to set her up with every lesbian he meets, plus he likes kissing boys himself. but they’ve never had the transgender talk. never had the “is a trans woman a woman to you?” talk that has robin building walls before there’s a chance to think of breaking them down.

robinabucks: eddie im serious

robinabucks: i genuinely don’t know if she’s ur type and it could go bad

robinabucks: like bad bad

eddieisdead: so can everything else

robinabucks: eddie

eddieisdead: robin

eddieisdead: i will do the best i can to not hurt her, sergeant🫡

she starts typing a response but watches as his status changes to offline.

dammit munson.

[guinea-pig16]

Yes, Sir!

Soap x Reader X Captain Price

Disclaimer: This is an NSFW piece! 18+ only, please!

Fic is below the cut, hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing a piece with more than one ship!

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Word count: 3,300+

Warnings: AFAB reader, mentions of AFAB parts, penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, threesome (F/M/M), dom/sub vibes

This fic is based off of a dream I had a couple days ago so if you think it's odd, that's why lmao

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Clinks of glasses together filled the air as everyone celebrated a mission well done. Task Force 141 had just completed their latest mission without a hitch, so Captain Price decided to treat the team with a night at their local bar. Laughter and chatter filled the cozy building. You sat at the bar, giggling with Soap, drinking your third beer of the night.

“Ye wouldn’t believe the shite he wis goin on aboot!” Soap leans his head against his arms, shaking from his laughter. “He wis sayin’ shite like ‘two goldfish ar’ inna tank’, an’ one of ‘em goes ‘ye know how to drive this thing?’” Soap’s voice goes deep as he imitates Ghost, and the two of you burst out laughing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ghost (sitting next to Soap) glower slightly at him. Your ribs hurt as you try to contain your giggles.

“Right, what’s all this then?” You hear a voice say. Soap and you look up at Price, giving him a half hearted salute as you both come down from your laughter. 

“Ah, Johnny was just telling me something funny that Ghost said!” You smile, still slightly giggling. Price smiles at the two of you.

“I’m glad to see you both enjoying yourselves, even if it’s at the expense of our dear Lieutenant.” You see Ghost roll his eyes and lift his mask to take a sip of his drink. “You all worked very hard on our last mission, you all deserve a bit of rest and reprieve.” You smile at Price.

“Thank you captain! We couldn’t have done it without your excellent leadership.” Price waves his hand, grinning. 

“Ah, it’s nothing without a good team. Anyways, I’ll let you three get back at it.” He waves as he goes over to where Gaz and Laswell are chatting. 

Soap nudges your shoulder and leans close to your ear. “Better be careful thir, Sergeant, he wis given’ ye th’ eyes…” He giggles and you punch his arm, causing him to pull back, rubbing his where you hit him. 

“Oh, stick a sock in it, Mactavish! As if!” You rolled your eyes at his comment. You had to admit though, Captain Price was a good looking man. But you would never get with your superior. 

“Ooo, does ‘at mean yer open to other options, love?” He says in an exaggerated flirty voice as he leans close to you, batting his lashes. You bark out a laugh and shove him back causing him to go into a fit of giggles.

“Once again, stick a sock in it, Mactavish, you dog!” You break into a series of giggles with Soap. In your mind though, you look at him differently. Johnny is definitely a very attractive man, but you guys were just friends. Nothing more, nothing less…

The night flew by. At one point, Gaz had challenged you and Soap to a karaoke contest, and you three treated the bar to a drunken rendition of ‘California Girls’. Let’s just say, you were absolutely hammered. To the point Price insisted on driving you home along with Gaz. You accepted the offer, as you had walked here and didn’t feel like walking back home. Around 1 am, Price dragged you and Gaz out of the bar, yelling goodbye to Soap as he was also being dragged out by Ghost, who was his ride home. He drunkenly waved bye to you as he leaned against Ghost for support. 

Price helped you into the back seat, as Gaz had won the front sit through rock, paper, scissors. The ride to your house was filled with laughter as you and Gaz shared stories and jokes, Price silent the whole time with a soft smile on his face. Once at your house, Price wrapped an arm around you and helped you inside. He gently sat you on your couch.

“Alright, I believe you can handle the rest now.” You grinned and saluted him. He chuckled and ruffled your hair. “G’nite, dear. See you in a few days.” He said before waving goodbye, making sure the door was locked behind him as he left. 

You stretched and yawned. You stumbled slightly going down the hall to your bedroom. You changed out of your clothes and into loose fitting pajamas, before snuggling underneath your covers. You sighed contently as you drifted off to sleep…

Bang.

You jolted awake. You looked around. You were still in your bedroom, snuggled in your blankets. You groan and roll over, attempting to go back to sleep. 

Bang.

Your eyes shot open once again. You slowly lean up in your bed, looking towards your bedroom door. What was that? You think. You hear more small bangs and rustling from down the hall. Slowly, you crawl out of your bed, grabbing your phone, and inch towards the door. You wince as your door creaks when you open it. You hear the sounds stop.

You exit your room as quietly as you can, and begin inching down the hall. You reach the end of the hall and peek out towards the living room. Your heart sinks as you see two, large, black figures facing you. You squint slightly. Something about the figures seems… familiar. You hold up your phone and turn on the flashlight and shine it into the living room. You almost sigh in relief when the light reveals Soap and Price standing in your living room. You then furrow your brow. What the hell are they doing here?

You step into the living room, and take note of the open window. Did they fucking climb through the window? “What the hell are you two doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” You cross your arms and glare at the two of them. They both glance at each other and grin as if they’re in on a joke.

“There she is…” Says Soap, taking a small step closer to you. You don’t know why, but you take a step back, feeling uneasy about this whole situation. Price smiles at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Don’t run love, it’s okay…” Price says quietly, and you shiver slightly from the tone of his voice. Soap takes another step towards you, you take another step back. He and Price rake their eyes unabashedly up and down your body, causing your cheeks to heat. They take in where your night shirt has slipped down your shoulder, exposing your bra strap, where your pajama pants have sagged slightly, exposing your hips. Soap groans slightly at the sight, making your face heat even more.

“God love… Ye have no idea what ye do to us…” Soap takes another step forward, you take one backwards. He starts slowly stepping closer and closer, and out of apprehension, you walk slowly backwards back into the hall, inching towards your bedroom. Soap begins speaking in a low, husky tone.

“What ye were wearin’ tonite almos’ ‘ad me an’ Price bend ye over the bar…” You blush furiously. Soap eyes haven’t left yours once, practically burning a hole through your head. “Ye always look so intoxicatin’... The way ye sway yer hips… The way yer lips look when ye smile…” He groans lowly. “Yer a damn drug… ye know that?” His pupils are blown wide, with what you can now identify as lust. You go to take another step back, but trip on your own feet and drop your phone. You fall flat on your ass and are helpless as Soap stands before you. He crouches slowly, eyes never leaving yours. He grabs a hold on your ankles and yanks you so you’re underneath him. 

He leans down next to your ear and speaks low. “...We’re gunna fuckin’ ruin you tonite, babes…” Your whole body shivers at his words, and your face flushes red. He looks into your eyes, searching for anything that would say no. You look back at him and bite your lip lightly. He grins and slowly drags you out of the hall by your ankles, his eyes burning into your own. When you enter the living room again Price is still standing there, and you lock eyes. 

Soap drops your ankles and leans over you once again, arms caging you in. “What a pretty girl ye are…” And presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, and wrap your arms around his neck. You feel him move to the side as you see Price get down on his knees and lean over you, pressing a kiss to your neck. You feel his hand drift down to your waistband.

“How about we take these off, love…” Price’s hands toy with your waistband. Soap breaks the kiss long enough for you to whisper out a breathy ‘yes’, before recapturing them. He slips his tongue into your mouth as Price presses kisses along your neck and slowly slips your pajama pants downward. 

He tugs them completely off and slips down so he’s facing your underwear. Head in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, causing you to let out a moan into Soap’s mouth. Soap’s hands begin slipping underneath your night shirt and upwards towards your chest. 

“May I take these off, dear?” Price asks, finger hooking underneath the waistband of your underwear. Soap breaks the kiss and asks with his eyes to take off your shirt. You breathily say yes to both, and feel your underwear being slipped off as your shirt is lifted above your head. Soap’s hands find the clasp at the front of your bra and looks at you asking. You nod, and he unclasps your bra and admires your exposed chest, before recapturing your mouth. He kneads your chest as you feel Price moving closer to your exposed heat.

“You look absolutely wonderful, love…” Price groans and licks a strip up your heat, causing you to moan into Soap’s mouth.

“That’s it love, keep makin’ those pretty sounds’ fur us…” Soap says, breaking the kiss to gaze into your eyes. Price wraps his arms around your thighs as he sucks on your clit. You gasp and squirm as he prods at your entrance with his tongue, his mouth hot on your sex. Soap takes off his shirt and grins as you rake your eyes over his chest. “Like wit ye see, lass?” He then buries his face into your neck and gently bites as you arch your back to Price’s work. 

“Doin’ so good for us, pretty girl… Gonna make sure ye can’t walk in the mornin’...” Price groans in agreement, sending vibrations into your heat. You shiver and whine as Price laps at you. You feel a knot begin to tighten in your lower belly. Price moves his efforts to your clit, and you feel one of his fingers prod at your entrance. You moan loudly as you feel his finger slip into you. You feel Soap grin against your neck. 

You gasp as Price pumps in another finger, stretching you out. You clutch onto Soap like a lifeline as your thighs shiver, causing him to chuckle.

“Careful now, Captain, ye don’ wanna break her now do ye?” If you could, you’d glare at him, but the feeling of Price’s tongue and fingers has your mind practically melting. Price says nothing, he just doubles his efforts, pumping faster and sucking harshly on you. You moan loudly, the knot in your belly tightening significantly. You’re so close. 

“Johnny… Price… ‘M so close, ah!” You slur out, your whole body trembling in pleasure.

“I know dear, I can feel ya. I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head…” Price says, before returning his efforts to your bud. Soap recaptures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands brushing over your chest. He sucks on your tongue, and the knot gets tighter and tighter. And then it snaps.

You moan loudly into Soap’s mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Price slows his efforts and helps you down from your high, your whole body shaking from it. Soap breaks the kiss and you gasp for air, chest heaving. Price finally pulls away from you, and you glance up at him, his beard glistening from his work. He and Soap glanced at each other and began undressing in front of you. Once stripped to their boxers, Soap and Price switched. Soap knelt between your legs, and Price knelt behind you, gently sitting you up and leaning you against his chest. Soap gently rubbed your thighs and looked you in the eyes as he removed his boxers. His cock sprung out and your eyes widened as you took in its length. He grinned and grabbed your legs.

“Liking what yer seein’, doll?” You rolled your eyes at his comment, and flicked his shoulder with your hand. Price and Soap chuckled and he began positioning his shaft to your entrance. He looked in your eyes for any objection, but you just nodded and whispered it was okay to continue. Nodding, he gently pressed his tip to your entrance, the both of you letting out a soft groan. Slowly, he pushed into you, making him curse at your tightness and causing you to lean your head back on Price’s shoulder, who leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“You’re being such a good girl for us, dear.” He whispered in your ear, causing you to shiver. Soap bottomed out and stayed there for a moment, huffing. Slowly, he pulled out, and then thrusted back in, making the two of you gasp. A delicious burn traveled through you as he gently thrusted in and out. The burn gave way to immeasurable pleasure as you let out moan after moan for each thrust. 

“Johnny… Fast- Faster… Please…” You moaned, head laid back on Price’s shoulder. 

Soap chuckled slightly, groaning. “Anythin’ ye want, pretty girl.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, sitting up. And then he began pounding into you, causing you to cry out. He huffed and moaned into your ear, holding you close. The knot in your belly formed again and tightened slowly, making you curl your toes. 

“Aww, Price… Yer lookin’ awfully lonely over there…” Soap cooed, grinning. He stopped thrusting into you and you whined at the loss of friction. “Easy there, lass… Thought we should include our Captain… Whit’d ye think, love? Should we?” You dumbly nodded your head, wanting more than anything for Soap to continue pounding into you. You heard Price groan lowly, and the sound of clothes shuffling. Then you felt hands grabbing your ass, and a finger poke into your hole. You gasped at the feeling, and moaned as Price pumped in his finger, stretching out your entrance. You tucked your head into Soap’s neck, and whined as Price put in another finger, then a third.

“There’s a good girl… Doing so good…” Price whispered in your ear, making you whimper. Price removed his fingers, and you felt his cock tease the entrance of your ass. “This is gonna be a bit uncomfortable, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow…” Price kissed your neck, and slowly began to push in. You winced slightly at the stretch, and Soap pressed a kiss on your head and rubbed your back soothingly. Price gripped your waist like a lifeline, and hissed as he bottomed out. The three of you sat there for a moment as you caught your breath, adjusting to the feeling of the two men inside you. You’d never felt so full before.

Finally, after a couple minutes, you spoke. “O-Okay… You can… You can move now…” You wrapped your arms around Soaps neck, face still buried in his neck. You felt Soap smile into your hair, and Price rubbed your waist affectionately. They both slowly pulled out and pushed back in. The air was filled with low groans and breathy moans as the two men slowly pumped into you. Your nails dug into Soap’s shoulders.

“Ah… Faster, please…” You moaned, feeling the knot tighten once more in your belly.

“Ye sure, babes? Don’t wanna… hah… hurt ye…” Soap groaned. You heard Price make a noise of agreement. You whined slightly.

“Please… You won’t hurt me, please… I need more…” Soap and Price groaned at the sound of your neediness.

“Whatever you want, love.” Price said, before the two of them began harshly thrusting into you. You practically screamed at the feeling. They both moaned loudly at the way you clenched around them. 

“Thas’ it, thas’ a good girl. Takin’ us so well.” Soap groaned in your ear, lightly biting your earlobe. All you could do was moan in response, brain turned to mush by the two men. You were sandwiched between them, being used as their own personal fuck toy. And you love it. It was a dream come true. You felt their thrusts become sloppy, their moans stuttering slightly. You could feel your own release coming as well.

“Johnny, Price, So- So close! ‘M gonna, ah!” You moaned. You felt one of Price’s hands come up and grip the back of your neck. He pulled your neck back so you were looking at him.

“Go ahead, come on our cocks, love.” He pulled you into a heated kiss. You whined into his mouth as the knot got tighter and tighter. Soap threw his head back, his thrusts getting even sloppier, and he let out a slew of curses.

You let out high pitched moan after moan, the knot getting unbelievably tight. Any second now… You were almost there. Your head felt lighter and lighter, and a ringing started in your ears, washing out the moans of Soap and Price. You were so close. It was about to snap, you were so close you could taste it. And then it snapped and-

BDING!

You jolted.

Your eyes popped open and you squinted. Sunlight filtered into your room through your curtains, hinting it was early afternoon. You sat up, looking around, blinking quickly. Everything was in place from last night, your clothes laying on the floor. You looked down. You were still in your pajamas. You scratched your head, confused. You crawled out of bed and walked down the hall, hesitantly. You peeked into the living room. It was normal. The window was latched and closed. There wasn’t a pillow out of place.

“What the fuck…?” You mumbled. Was that all… a dream?

BDING! 

You turned your head back to your bedroom. Was that your phone…? You walked back to your room and grabbed your phone.

You had a couple unread texts from Soap.

You opened your phone and read his shitty typing. He was asking if you wanted to come hangout with him, Ghost, and Gaz today. They were going to see a movie and then walk around town a bit. 

“Ony if yer not so hammered from last nite lol.” He typed. You rolled your eyes and texted back that you’d meet up with them at the movie theater. A couple minutes later, he texted back with the time they’re meeting. You agreed and said you’d see them there. You then sat your phone on your bed and stared at the wall.

Memories of your dream drifted back into your mind and you blushed slightly. What was that all about…? You didn’t have any feelings for either of them… you thought you didn’t at least. You shook your head. You only had a couple hours before you had to meet up with the others. So you took a cold shower and changed into a casual outfit.

You walked down the hall and glanced at the living room, your dream drifting to the front of your mind. Your face flushed and you shook your head once again, trying to clear it. 

With that, you grabbed your keys and headed out, making sure to lock your door behind you. Hopefully, you could forget about it today.

What a weird fucking dream.

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Thanks so much for reading !!!! This was my first time writing a threesome, so I hope you liked it !!! I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time while writing LMAO !!! It was such a weird dream, I'd never had one like that before. And funny thing is, I was reading COD fics before bed that night but it had NOTHING to do with Soap and Price, so I have no clue why they showed up. Anyways, thanks for reading !! Ciao!! <3 <3

XOXOXOXOX <3