#why did he take up half the goddamn couch | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

proxima-writes · 7 months

Text

𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐛 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4.1k

summary: joel agrees to go out to tommy’s favorite bar, where he watches you ride a mechanical bull and wishes you would ride him.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, no defined reader age or physical appearance besides outfits, alcohol use, joel getting slapped, tommy is a little shit, first date anxiety, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, praise, pet names, girl on top, couch sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, deep throating, more men whimpering and begging 2k23. let me know if any warnings are missing!

author’s note: look, i know i’m in the middle of my spooky specials but i saw two very specific tik toks that left me with the need to write this 😵‍💫 also this post layout is inspired by @bits-and-babs, whose works and aesthetic are chef’s kiss.

“Why did you pick this place?” Joel grumbles, hand wrapped around a sweating bottle of beer. People keep jostling him as they squeeze past, forcing him to keep his elbow tight to his side to avoid having his beer be collateral damage.

“You’ll see,” Tommy says with a cryptic wink. Joel rolls his eyes.

Tommy has dragged him out to a saloon style bar, complete with swinging wooden doors and longhorn skulls decorating the walls. Everything is shiny dark wood and western motif, down to the saddle style barstools. Most of the patrons have leaned into the theme, too — tassels, leather, cowboys hats, and ostentatious belt buckles.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen!” A man’s voice calls out over the speakers. “The show is about to begin!”

“Show?” Joel asks dubiously. Tommy only grins at him, dragging him by the arm towards the back of the bar.

He weaves through the crowd until they’re only behind a few rows of people that have gathered around a mechanical bull riding ring, of all things. The floor of the ring is inflatable and in the middle sits the brown bull figure. Joel catches his first glimpse of you, a gorgeous woman in denim cut offs standing beside the bull. Your black leather halter top plunges low to expose your cleavage and stops short of the waist of your shorts, a tantalizing strip of your stomach on display. The black leather of the top matches your black leather boots and the cuffs snapped around your wrists.

“One of Salty Saloon’s very own has stepped up to take the bull by the horns tonight!”

You lift a hand to wave, bright smile on your face as you take in the crowd. Your eyes land on Joel and for a brief moment he swears he stops breathing. He can’t hear anything the emcee is saying, all the noise around him just a dull buzz as he watches you swing yourself up onto the back of the bull.

“Alright, alright, alright! Our rider’s goal is to stay on for one minute using only one hand! If she falls before the buzzer, y’all get nothin’. But if she makes it, shots are half off for the rest of the night!”

A cacophony of cheers erupts around Joel and you straighten your spine, holding your hand out with a thumbs up. The music starts, some pop song he’s heard on the radio in the morning when he’s taking Sarah to school, and the mechanical bull turns in a slow circle. You have one hand twisted in a leather strap, the other raised above your head as the bull bucks and swings, your hips moving smoothly with the machine.

“Goddamn,” someone says from behind Joel. “I ain’t ever wanted to be a bull so bad in my life.”

Me, too, he thinks.

Your thighs press tight against the sides of the bull as it swings around, turning you to face the section of crowd Joel stands in. You release the hand grip, both hands in the air now as you rely solely on your legs and core to keep you up on the machine. When the machine turns again, you manage to lift your body and swing your legs around to reverse your position, now seated facing the back of the bull.

“Alright, ten more seconds!” The emcee calls out. The crowd starts to cheer your name and Joel can’t help but join in, eyes glued to you as you continue to swing and sway like all the movements are nothing but second nature to you.

“Three! Two! One!”

A cowbell goes off, signaling the end of your ride. The bull slows to a stop and you sit there for a moment to catch your breath, waving at the crowd. The bar owner, Johnny, comes out onto the crash pad with a huge grin on his face.

“Great job up there, kid. Now go sell some half priced shots,” he says with a good natured pat on your shoulder.

You return to the bar, where the other two bartenders scheduled tonight field the after-show rush, lining up shot glasses and filling them in quick succession with the requested liquor. When you get behind the bar, a familiar head of curly hair catches your eye.

“Tommy!” You call, excited to see one of you favorite regulars. He shouts your name as you stop in front of him.

“This is my brother, Joel!” He says, slapping the back of the man beside him. You’d seen him in the crowd, a handsome guy with broad shoulders stretching a dark blue t-shirt, warm tan skin, and messy curls that speak to the family resemblance between him and Tommy. You reach a hand across the bar, Joel’s calloused fingers dragging against your palm as you greet the man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Joel. Can I get y’all anything?” You ask. Tommy grins.

“Let me get this man a slap shot!” He yells.

You glance at Joel. “That okay with you?” You ask.

His eyes are comically wide as he nods. You step back to ring the bell behind the bar, your fellow bartenders whooping and cheering, a chant of “SLAP SHOT! SLAP SHOT!” echoing around you.

Haley sets a glass of water on the bar for you and you grab a pint glass, filling it with ice and two ounces of Jim Beam and amaretto. You smack the steel shaker on top, grabbing both glasses and shaking them vigorously over your shoulder.

You strain the contents of the shaker into a shot glass, amber liquid flowing to the brim. When you’ve got everything ready, you leave the back of the bar and squeeze your way through the crowd until you’re in front of the two brothers and can hoist yourself up onto the bar.

“Alright, Joel, are you ready?” You shout. He looks a little confused, brows pinched tight over kind brown eyes, but he nods anyway, holding his hand out for the shot glass. Tommy watches with a shit eating grin. “Three! Two! One!”

Joel takes the shot and you follow it with a glass of water to his face and a slap across his jaw in quick succession. Tommy is howling with laughter and Joel’s face is one of pure shock, red blooming across the skin of his cheek. He turns to his brother.

“Tommy, what the fuck!” Joel shouts. His hand wraps into the neck of Tommy’s shirt. “You little fuckin’ shit!”

You have the sinking realization that Joel wasn’t prepared for what a slap shot entails. You had just assumed this was something Tommy had told him about, having been to the bar so much the last few months.

Joel looks mad as hell, his shoulders tense and you worry he may actually throw a punch at Tommy. You hop from the bar and get between the two men, pressing a hand to their chests and pushing them apart.

"You, come with me," you say, pointing to Joel. "And you," -- you jab a finger into Tommy's chest -- "are on my shit list."

You take Joel by the hand and guide him to the back office, shutting the door and muffling the noises of the bar beyond it. His face is still dripping wet and the water dripping from his chin has gathered into a sizeable spot on the collar of his shirt.

"I am so, so sorry," you start, rifling through the storage cabinet for a bar towel. You hold it out to him, avoiding his gaze. "Tommy comes here so much that I just thought he'd told you about what a slap shot was. I should have told you, oh my god."

"Hey, it's okay. I ain't mad at you," Joel says, running the towel over his damp face. "Tommy, though. I'm gonna kick his fuckin' ass later."

"Still," you mumble, twisting your hands together nervously. "I'm sorry. Is your cheek okay?"

He rubs the towel over his head to dry his hair a bit, the action leaving him adorable mussed, curly strands sticking up in every direction. You're staring at him, maybe a little too much, but who can blame you? The man is hot.

"Yeah, trust me. I've had worse," Joel replies with a laugh.

"You get slapped by women often?" You tease.

"The number of times ain't just one."

"Oh, a bad boy. Mama warned me about guys like you."

He laughs again, long and low, running a hand through his hair. "Well, thank you for the towel."

"Right. And your next drink is on me. As an apology," you tell him.

"I'd rather get your number," he says. "You know, as an apology."

You raise your eyebrows at him before turning to the manager's desk, grabbing a marker and tugging the cap off with your teeth. You slide a hand down his arm, lifting his forearm up so that you can write down your number across the smooth, tan skin.

"I'm off next weekend," you comment when you've recapped the marker.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joel replies with a grin.

Joel's nervous as he waits outside of your apartment building in his truck, fingers tapping a nameless tune against the steering wheel. It's Saturday night and he's here to pick you up for dinner at a restaurant in downtown Austin, one that required he dig out the old black button down he keeps shoved in the back of his closet for parent-teacher conferences and funerals.

The front door to your building opens and you emerge, dressed in a pretty red wrap dress and black heels. Joel gets out of the truck and jogs around to the passenger side to open the door for you and he's surprised when you lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

"Hey," you say in greeting, climbing into the truck and settling into the passenger seat, your purse on your lap. Joel can't help the dopey grin that's surely stretched across his face.

“Hey, yourself. You look nice,” he replies. He shuts the door and jogs around the the driver’s side.

“You don’t look so bad either,” you tell him as he starts the truck up. He can feel his cheeks get warm and he hopes that you can’t see him the proof of his nerves in the dark cab.

At the restaurant, the host leads you both to a small table towards the back of the restaurant, pristine white tablecloth topped with a small vase of flowers and a flickering votive candle. A waiter in a white button down comes by to take your drink orders before disappearing the the kitchen, leaving the two of you regarding each other in silence.

“Look, I gotta be honest about somethin’,” Joel says, leg bouncing beneath the table. “I’ve got a kid. Sarah, she’s thirteen. Light of my life, you know?” He takes a deep breath before finishing with, “And I don’t think I’ve even been on a date since she’s been born, so this is just…a little new to me.”

“You have a kid?” You ask. For a moment Joel worries that he may have ended this before it could even get a chance to begin, but then your face lights up with a sweet smile and you ask, “Will you tell me about her?”

Joel does. In between ordering and eating your delicious meals, you and Joel discuss anything and everything. He tells you about Sarah and his contracting work, while you tell him about your full time job as a pharmacy technician, the gig at the bar a part time thing on some weekends. He nearly makes you snort your water out of your nose with a story about rescuing Tommy from the bathroom of the girl he’d been seeing when her long distance boyfriend, who Tommy didn’t know existed, showed up at her apartment.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim breathlessly. “And he just jumped out of the bathroom window?”

“To be fair, she had a first floor unit,” Joel confirms. “His royal pain in the ass still made me take him to urgent care because he thought he broke his ankle.”

“You’re a good brother,” you say with a smile. Joel feels the warmth of it in his veins.

After dinner, the ride back to your place is quiet, the comfortable silence filled with the low music from the radio. In a moment of bravery, Joel reaches over and lays a hand on your low thigh, just above your knee as he drives. He refuses to look over at you, but from the corner of his eye he sees you look down at his hand before looking back out the window.

He counts that as a win.

He pulls up the curb outside your apartment and kills the engine. You speak before he has a chance to agonize over what to say.

“Will you walk me to my door?” You ask.

He feels relief and anxiety in one fell swoop. He agonizes internally over whether to kiss you goodnight as he follows you up the stairs to your apartment, the buzzing in his brain momentarily silenced while he watches your hips sway as you climb the steps.

You stop on the second floor, guiding him down a long hallway to a door marked with a black metal number three. You turn to face him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“This is me,” you murmur. Joel swallows nervously.

“Right. I, uh…I had a really great time tonight,” he says.

“Would you…want to come inside?”

Joel’s brain short circuits. “Would I—? Yeah.”

You turn to unlock the door, pushing into your apartment and Joel follows you inside. The apartment is dark but you quickly turn on the lights as you move further inside, illuminating an open living room with a dining nook. There’s a door off to the right that he assumes is your bedroom and an open kitchen to the left. It’s small, but it’s cozy, bursting with colors and fabrics and mismatched furniture.

“Well, this is home,” you say with a shrug. You set your purse down on the small circular dining table. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got beer, some liquor on the bar cart over there if you want to have a look.”

“Beer is fine,” Joel says, taking a seat on the comfy looking couch. You return with a bottle of beer, passing it to him before settling in beside him, kicking off your heels and drawing your legs up beneath you.

He takes a sip, fortifying his nerves. He wasn’t lying when he said it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date, but even sex has been a distant thought for the last year or so. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“So,” you start, your elbow pressed into the back couch cushion while you lean your face into the palm of your hand. “You wanna know what I think?”

“‘Bout what?” Joel asks.

“You.”

“You got a report card ready for me already?”

“I think” — you take the beer bottle from his hand, setting it on the coffee table — “you’ve spent a long time being a caretaker. Right? You’ve got Tommy, who was already a handful. Your daughter, who’s obviously priority number one. You’ve got a business to worry about, workers to care for.” You shuffle closer on your knees, swinging a leg over his and settling yourself onto his lap. “This okay?” You ask.

“Yeah,” he replies, probably a bit too enthusiastically. His fingers curl into the couch cushions and he wants to reach up to wrap his hands around your waist but he’s not sure if he should.

You play with the collar of his shirt. “What do you think about having someone take care of you for a change?”

Joel’s stomach flips, cock jumping in interest as the blood in his brain rushes south and leaves him only capable of responding with a mumbled, “Oh?”

“I just think you deserve someone treating you real nice,” you say with a shrug. Deft fingers work at undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Especially when I was so mean when we met, slapping you across the face like I did.”

“Told you not to worry ‘bout that,” he replies, head dropping against the back cushions. “S’not like I didn’t like it.”

“You like to be roughed up a little, Mr. Miller?”

“Maybe.”

Your grin is wicked as you drag your nails down the now exposed skin of his chest. He hisses at the sting of it.

“Interesting,” you murmur. You lean close, chest pressed against his, hands coming up to frame his face. Your nails scratch through his beard now and he groans his appreciation.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. “Please?”

You respond by pressing your lips to his, chaste as first. Your mouths move together slowly, feeling each other out. It’s you that takes it deeper, tracing your tongue over his bottom lip and dipping it inside to tangle with his. He wraps his arms around your low back, holding you tightly in his lap as he consumes you, drunk on the feeling of your breath in his lungs.

You drags yours lips away from his with a slick sound, trailing them along his jaw and towards his ear. You nip at his earlobe, teeth gentle and breath hot before whispering, “Can I suck your cock, Joel?”

A whimper claws it’s way up Joel’s throat as he nods, already unable to form words. He’s no stranger to turning into a puddle for a pretty woman but he’s certain this must be a new record.

You slip from his lap and kneel on the floor, pushing his legs apart so that you can settle in between them. Your hands reach for his belt, tugging on the buckle and pulling it loose so that you can pop the button of his jeans and tug the zipper down, the metallic sound loud in the quiet room.

Your fingers curl into the waist of his jeans and Joel lifts his hips a bit to aid you in tugging them halfway down his thighs. His cock tents his boxers in an obscene way, a wet spot already staining the fabric. You run your palms up his thighs before bracketing his member between your hands, lightly running your thumbs up his length.

“Christ,” Joel says, teeth digging into his lip.

“That feel good?” You ask.

“Uh huh.”

You smile beatifically before leaning forward, warm breath on his covered cock as you press gentle kisses through the fabric. Joel’s hips twitch and he lets out a deep groan.

You tug the elastic of his boxers over his length, tucking it beneath his balls. He’s practically vibrating with need but you continue to take your sweet time, pressing more kisses along his shaft, tracing the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein.

“You have a pretty cock, Joel,” you say, wrapping your hand around the base of him to hold him steady. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t want to miss the sight of your tongue lapping at the bead of precum gathered on his flushed tip, or the way your own eyes flutter shut as you let out a little moan of appreciation.

You wrap your lips around his cock, taking him inch by agonizing inch into your warm mouth and Joel feels any semblance of sanity disappear from his lust clouded brain. Your eyes stay fixed on him as take him in as far as you can, throat fluttering around the sensitive head when you swallow before pulling up, twirling your tongue around the tip, and plunging back down.

“Christ,” Joel groans, reaching out to cup your cheek. “You look so goddamn good like that.”

You lift off his cock and take it in your hand, moving it across your lips as you ask, “Like what?”

“Chokin’ on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls.

“That was nothing.”

Joel’s about to ask what you mean when you lower your mouth over his length once more. He can feel you flatten your tongue, your throat and jaw relaxing enough to take him to the very base, your nose tickling the wiry curls on his pelvis. He moans as you swallow around him, breathing through your nose and holding yourself there for a moment before coming up with a gasp, tears gathered in the corners of your eyes and spit making your chin shiny in the low light.

“So…I could keep doing this,” you tell him, “or…”

“Or?” He asks.

“Or…you could let me make us both feel good.”

You stand up, your hands untying the knot that holds your dress together so you can push it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. You push your panties down your legs and unhook your bra, leaving you gloriously naked in front him, every inch of you like a piece of art meant to be admired. Joel’s hands, greedy and unfulfilled up until now, reach up to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, your pussy hot and wet against his cock. He lets his hands wander over every inch of exposed skin, relishing the way your ass fits in his palms and the way you hiss when his thumb caresses a tight nipple.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he moans, his lips against your rapid pulse, teeth ghosting the thin skin of your neck. “Need you so bad, baby.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” you whisper, reaching between your bodies to hold his throbbing cock steady, notching it at your soaked entrance and beginning a slow slide down.

Joel is panting against your sweat slick chest, mumbling desperate words into your skin as you take him inside of you as slowly as you can, thighs burning with the effort. When you’ve finally seated yourself on his lap, his head drops back to the cushion, eyes squeezed shut tightly and fingers nearly bruising on your thighs.

“Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he begs. “Oh, fuck, feels so good.”

Where he’s desperate for you to stay still, you’re already desperate to move. His cock is perfect, thick and long with a slight upward curve, pressing up against your g-spot with stunning accuracy. You’re certain this won’t last long for either of you.

You rock slowly, forward and back, little movements of your hips. Joel lifts his head, looking down at where your bodies are connected with dark eyes. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair and giving it a sharp tug that has him hissing your name.

You start to move more quickly, rolling your body in smooth waves over his. He’s panting as he looks up at you, sweat gathering at his temple, and his hands grip your ass and follow your movement reverently.

“So fuckin’ good,” he moans, “you’re gonna make me come, baby, goddamn.”

You speed up, bouncing on his lap now. Your couch creaks the slightest bit, protesting your movements, but you don’t care — all you care about is the man beneath you and the desperate little noises spilling from his lips as you make good on your promise to take care of him.

“Touch me,” you command. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He’s a good listener, your Joel, his thumb immediately finding your clit and circling it with messy movements that drive you wild, that tension in your muscles coiling tighter. Joel’s hips flex into yours with each drop down his length, the room echoing with the lewd sounds of skin against skin and the chorus of whimpers that spill from both of you.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant. He wraps his arms around you, really thrusting into you now as your own movements falter and you collapse forward, head buried against his neck as you come, trembling with the strength of it.

It’s not long after that he goes still, cock pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you. You stay slumped against each other, catching your breaths and waiting for your racing hearts to come back down to earth.

“That was…,” Joel says with a breathless laugh that shakes his chest. His fingers play up and down your back, soothing and gentle. “Goddamn, that was amazin’.”

“Yeah?” You ask, lifting your head. You smooth his messy hair back from his forehead. “You weren’t so bad either.”

He nips at your neck in retaliation, making you laugh and squirm away from him.

“Do you have to get going?” You ask.

“No,” he replies. “Tommy’s watchin’ Sarah for me tonight. He owes me one. Besides, I’m ain’t done with you yet.”

“No?”

“Not even close, darlin’.”

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel the last of us #joel fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal character

3K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #trailer park steve au #steve can have a little depression as a treat #robin buckley #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #my writing #my fic

1K notes · View notes

14thgalerie · 4 months

Text

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude.

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds.

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow.

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state.

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you.

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away.

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.”

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

655 notes · View notes

softlyspector · 8 months

Text

clouds

Summary: Joel comes home to find you telling your daughter a bedtime story.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Joel and the reader have a daughter together, certified girl dad Joel Miller, allusions to events in tlou part 2, Joel is a sad old guy, Joel and Ellie are not on good terms, completely unedited

A/N: Hello. I saw a compilation of all the times Joel called Ellie kiddo and this is what spilled forth from that emotional turmoil. Also, it was a nice lil challenge to write something short. I would love to hear your thoughts💕

Joel is still kicking off his boots by the front door when he hears giggling.

The sound is like a shot of poison, like new love and cotton candy dreams, all in one. It’s something that never fails to take him back some twenty odd years.

Yellow lamplight, purple and pink sheets, soccer trophies, pictures stuck to the walls. Texas heat and the muted hum of overhead fans. Laughter and storybooks.

He shakes the memory of that time, of that little girl away. Snow is splattered in little puddles around the front door’s mat now, and Joel isn’t sure how long he’s been standing there, lost in another time.

Joel hangs up his coat and listens for it again, the tinkling bells of it. The little laughs that fill him with worrisome dread and the buoyancy of ten thousand balloons, with inadequacy and the roundness of champagne bubbles.

Even though he’s hungry, even though he wants nothing more than to lie down on the couch and rest for just a goddamn second, he goes slowly up the stairs, avoiding all the little places he knows creak and crack.

The landing and the hall are bled through with the glow of golden light. It streams in from the bathroom, where you must have forgotten to turn off the light, and one of the bedrooms. The smell of lavender soap leaches out into the hall, fragrant and thick but not cloying. It smells like sleep and safety, like his family, like babies.

“Did you know that the clouds used to be ruled by monsters?” Your voice slips out into the hall from the other door, a pocket of light cracking the floorboards open.

Joel steps carefully closer, until he can see you and a tiny girl that looks everything like you, and nothing like him.

“Monsters? Really?” The girl you’re tucking into bed raises a skeptical brow at you. He hears, but doesn’t see, Ellie snort from somewhere within, the gentle creak of the rocking chair she must be sitting in following.

It stops his heart for a moment, freezes his body where he stands.

Ellie hasn’t been inside this house since…

When he…

He knows she’s been there. Because she still cares about you, about that girl that’s half his, that she thinks of as a sister, that is her sister. And he’s glad she has the two of you, even if he’ll never have her again.

Ellie is never there when he’s there, never.

Not anymore.

You cock your head to the side, the movement birdlike. “Oh, neither of you believe me, huh? It’s true.” You tug the comforter higher around your daughter’s shoulders before brushing your fingers along her temple. “A long time ago they lived there. It’s why the sky turns stormy sometimes.”

“Why? If they used to live there?”

“Good catch,” you nod knowingly, curling your fingers around hers when she reaches for your hand.

“And it still storms,” Ellie points out. Joel knows she’s rolling her eyes.

You hum, brushing slow fingers against your daughter’s forehead with your free hand. “Well, aren’t you two my smart girls?”

Ellie scoffs again, while another giggle from his baby reshapes his heart, floats long on the air, bubbly and bright.

He pushes open the door before you can continue, forgetting for a moment, that things aren’t like before. “Ain’t you a little old to be arguin’ about bedtime stories?”

The smile on Ellie’s face drops away when he steps into the room, and he tries not to let that bed down in his soul. Her expression goes steely and closed off.

The room, decked out in warm swatches of green and yellow, goes a little tense. There’s a little stuffed giraffe from Ellie at the foot of her bed, but everything else is covered in whatever you and he can find with bats on it.

He hadn’t expected this phase, but you find it funny. Spooky, you said of it, and cute.

“Daddy,” Evie’s voice, squeaky and tinny. She reaches for him, chubby little fingers clenching and releasing.

“Hi, baby,” he coos, reaches down so she can touch his hand.

He’s too old to have a kid this little, one that can wrap her hand around his finger in lieu of his whole hand, who’s tiny hand was a little starfish against his palm.

Still, he wouldn’t change it for the world.

You stand from where you were perched on the edge of the little bed Joel built with his own hands. You lean down and tuck the blanket higher around her shoulders for a second time. A kiss is planted against her forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

“‘Night, mama.”

“I’m gonna let daddy say goodnight now, okay? He never gets to put you to bed.”

“Okay.”

“Ask him to tell you a story,” you whisper, secretive about it. “He knows a lot of good ones.”

She giggles again. “Okay.”

You pull back and straighten. The glowing eyes of your child follow the movement, then shift to him, big and full of life and all you.

Ellie stands, clearly intending to follow you, her eyes focused on the ceiling, then the floor. She fidgets with two fingers and resolutely does not look at Joel.

You lean into his side as you pass, your chest pressed against his arm when you kiss his cheek, before you make to leave. “Hold on now,” he hooks a hand in the crook of your elbow and keeps you close, acutely aware of how long it's been since all four of you have been in a room together. “Ain’t you gonna tell us why monsters ruled the clouds?”

You smile softly at him, indulging him. “Well, don’t you know they were as afraid of us as we were of them?”

“No, I didn’t,” he admits like this is something he’s heard of or thought on before, loosening his hold on your arm. You turn and Ellie glances up, meets your eyes but not his. She looks uncomfortable, like diving out the window might be preferable to standing in the same room as him.

“They were,” you concede. “They were scared of us. And then it turned out that neither were as scary as the other thought. And the storms are just little reminders, of all the things that wouldn’t have been possible, had they stayed in the clouds forever.”

Joel’s stomach goes sour, but Eva says, “Where are they now, mama?”

“Right here with us,” you smile. “Because we were the same all along.”

You lean in and kiss Joel’s cheek.

Then you’re gone, and the door is shut before either he or Ellie can move.

She’s still fidgeting, rolling her knuckles against her opposite hand, the skin pinching white.

“So stupid,” she mutters. “Stupid story.”

Joel just watches her for a minute before he fills in the place you’d vacated next to his daughter. Tiny fingers seek out his. She’s the littlest thing in the world, that he’s sure of.

“Wasn’t too bad.” He glances up from Eva to Ellie. “You doin’ all right, kiddo?”

Her face goes blank and then righteous with anger, hot and burning bright. But her eyes shift to the little girl looking so innocently up at both of them, wide eyes siding between them.

Some of that fury recedes, just a little. “I should go,” she says roughly instead.

It sinks part of his heart, sends it out to drift on an icy sea. But he just nods. “Okay,” he agrees softly. “We’ll see y’around.”

She opens her mouth, like she wants to say something else. But she looks at Eva again, and doesn’t. “Yeah. Maybe.”

It’s a lie, one she’ll keep if she can help it, and they both know it. “Okay. Be safe.”

She doesn’t answer, but says goodbye to Eva in a gentle voice and then leaves.

Joel’s chest hurts. Sometimes he can’t tell if it’s the old anxiety, vestiges of a previous life, a heart attack, or his heart breaking all over again. Maybe it’s some combination of all three.

“Daddy?”

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs again. “Did you have a nice day?”

She nods, intelligent eyes clocking him, filing the look on his face away for later examination and rumination. She gets that from you, how smart and perceptive she is. “Mama said you should tell me a story,” she reminds him.

Joel considers his limited catalog of child appropriate stories. He used to read to Sarah, brightly colored little books for kids about princesses and dogs that could talk.

But Eva isn’t Sarah.

The soft pads of her little fingers dig into his wrist. He leans down and presses a kiss to her hair. She still smells like a baby sometimes, sweet like milk, like bread. Now is one of those times, combined with the calming floral scent of the lavender soap you must have bathed her with.

“Okay,” he says when he pulls back. She liked stories about animals, about monsters, about bats and wolves. She’d probably requested one right before he got home. “I know one. You wanna hear a story about another monster?”

Bright little eyes go sparkly with excitement.

She nods, wiggles closer to his hip, half her face disappearing beneath the blanket so her eyes are all he can see.

“Okay,” he agrees, soft about it. “Once there was a mean old monster. He didn’t care about no one or nothin’. And then he met a little girl.”

💞 Thank you for reading! Comments and feedback are so appreciated. 💞

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

1K notes · View notes

luvring · 1 year

Text

THEIR REACTION TO YOU DRESSING UP

gn!reader | suggestive, mild swearing.

matsukawa, atsumu, hinata, kuroo, suna, osamu, sakusa, iwaizumi, tsukishima

MATSUKAWA’s sprawled on the couch as he waits for you to show him the new outfit you bought. you had excitedly texted him before coming home, hiding the contents of your bag as you ran to change. it’s been a few minutes when he teasingly calls out, “you okay in there, babe? need help?” “no, actually i don’t, issei,” you reply, walking in. issei does a double take, mouth dropping a little. “goddamn.” the speed he gets up is almost comical. you do a slow turn, smoothing out the fabric that seems to hug you in the most perfect way. “i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this, but it’s really nice, right?” “really fuckin' nice,” he agrees, grinning. “respectfully and in love with you, i humbly ask, do you want to kiss and or make out with me right now?”

ATSUMU freezes when you walk into the bedroom. you do a quick spin and smile. “what do you think?” his eyes are wide, gaze fixated on you. “am i dead? are you an angel here to take me away?” he finally asks. you snort and make your way over, reaching to fix the collar of his shirt. “i’m gonna take that as a ‘you look good, babe,’ then.” “just good? baby, i think i’m sweating. maybe cryin’ a little,” he continues, half-joking. “‘tsumu—” atsumu shakes his head. “uh-uh, don’t say my name, i might explode.” you laugh at your boyfriend, face warm from his praise; his own flustered state keeps him from noticing yours. he shakes his head again, as if to get out of a haze. “you know what, let’s go. yeah, let’s go now before i keep you all t’myself. we’re gonna knock ‘em dead.”

HINATA spits out his drink and chokes a little. “oh my–oh my, god, sorry, i—” “shoyo?” you speed over, concerned but also trying not to laugh. “are you okay?” “huh? yeah? i’m so fine,” he says unconvincingly. his face is flushed when he looks at you, whether from the choking, embarrassment, or your outfit, you’re not too sure. then, as if he wasn’t choking a few seconds earlier, he starts showering you in compliments. “anyways, you look great, babe. like, like it really screams 'you,' you know? i bet everyone’s gonna be jealous of me.” “oh really? of you?” shoyo tilts his head, as if you asked a silly question. “well, yeah? 'cause you look this good and i get to date you.”

KUROO almost drops his keys walking through the front door. “tetsu, you’re back early.” “god, please don’t tell me i forgot about a super important event tonight.” he sounds both panicked and in awe, mind in shambles at the sight of you. you open your mouth to speak, but tetsuro's faster. “wait, don’t tell me,”—he paces toward you—“before i die, i want you to know you look incredible, and i’ll gladly be your poorly-dressed accessory for the night.” there’s a joking strain to his voice, and he sniffs before pressing his cheek to your head. “tetsu.” you laugh and pat his back. “there’s nothing happening, i just bought a new outfit and wanted to try it on.” he lets out a relieved noise between a sigh and groan then moves to look at you, now able to fully appreciate the sight. “thank god. i’m going to count that as the second win of the night then, 'cause seriously, you look so good right now.”

SUNA snakes his arm around your waist and kisses your temple. “hi, babe.” “rin! when did you get here?” “a couple of minutes ago. beelined for you after ‘tsumu shoved a drink in my hand.” you laugh and he smiles before finally registering what you’re wearing. he takes a sip from his drink at the same time his eyes scan over the new look. “this what you bought on saturday?” “hm? yeah, it’s really nice, right?” rin looks between you and his drink. “if i didn’t have manners, i would’ve thrown this glass and kissed you.” amused, you jokingly hit his stomach. “why can’t you compliment me like a normal person?” rin takes no offense, instead maneuvering so he can hold his drink while wrapping his other arm around you. he squeezes you, grinning when you yelp. “‘one, cause you look hot, and two, where’s the fun in that?”

OSAMU lets out a low whistle as you walk into the living room, eyes scanning you up and down. he gets up from the couch, and places his hands on your hips. “y’sure you have to go out tonight?” “'samu.” he laughs at your pointed look and puts his hands up in surrender. “i’m kidding, hon. you look stunning, though.” rolling your eyes, you thank him. “c’mon, i’m gonna be late if we don’t go now.” you walk to the door, but osamu thinks back to the weather forecast for the evening. “you aren’t bringin’ a jacket?” “hm? nah, we’re gonna be inside.” putting on your shoes, you respond without looking, and are surprised by the weight that suddenly covers your shoulders. you know osamu's favourite jacket from anywhere, and you let him shift it to cover you. he leans over to kiss your temple and mumbles in your ear, “now you’ll be warm and everyone will remember we’re dating.”

SAKUSA’s fingers slip from his cuff button again, earning a huff and frown from him. “‘omi, are you ready?” “yeah, can you just help me w—” he turns to the sound of your voice and pauses. the new outfit you told him about makes his heart skip a beat, and he almost forgets about his own suit predicament. “with what? oh, the button?” you make your way over to help, kiyoomi staring the entire time. “there ya go.” “you look incredible,” is the first thing he says instead of thank you. it catches you off-guard, “huh? oh. i—thank you. you look very handsome.” there’s a beat of silence as kiyomi weighs the pros and cons of going out or staying home. you have to stop yourself from laughing when he asks with a straight face, “completely related, am i allowed to be mean if anyone tries to flirt with you?”

IWAIZUMI looks up when he hears the changing room door open. you’re fixing the waist of your outfit, and don’t notice the way his eyes widen. he whispers under his breath, “holy fuck.” “haji, do you think it’s too much for the dinner? i know it’s ‘just your old teammates’ but, like, i want to look good,” you explain. his gaze softens and he clears his throat before standing. “no, it’s perfect. you look…you look perfect.” you smile at him and it’s all he can do to stop himself from covering his face and groaning. “oikawa’s going to say something about you looking better than me, and i won’t even be able to disagree.” the sound of your laughter fills the air and hajime huffs a laugh at himself. “well, we better get something just as good for you then.”

TSUKISHIMA’s not great with compliments, and he always wants to kick himself in the ass for it when it comes to you. you look at him standing behind you in the mirror. “i think this is the one. what do you think, kei?” biting his lip, he looks to the side and clears his throat. “it looks good.” he doesn’t have to look to feel you staring at him. “you sure? you don’t think it’s missing something?” kei takes a second to try thinking of a response, then he glances at your wary expression and lets out a breath. “no, i promise. you look great, and this is the best thing you could have chosen.” you smile at yourself, and his gaze softens a fraction before he’s back to being tsukishima—“you ready? because we’re going to be late if we keep standing here, and the group chat’s about to blow up our phones.”

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @dimslover @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #matsukawa x reader #atsumu x reader #hinata x reader #kuroo x reader #suna x reader #osamu x reader #sakusa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #tsukishima x reader #x reader

7K notes · View notes

tasteracha · 9 months

Text

a/n: my brain’s supply of what this 2min nonsense was about. why did they smile at each other like that. about a sports drink. thank you to my lils @gimmeurtmi for proof reading this ily

warnings: piss kink (apologizes in advance), soft dom!minho, poly relationship 2min x reader, smut - minors dni

it starts like this:

you were sick a week ago, bedridden and weak-limbed for days and you would have been absolutely miserable if you didn’t have two lovely partners waiting on your every need. streaming hot soup brought straight to your bed, sweat-soaked sheets changed by one of them while the other helped you shower, endless supplies of water and juices and various drinks kept in a steady supply on your bedside table.

including those goddamn sports drinks. the ones that they still shove down your throat because what if you’re still dehydrated baby? can’t have you passing out can we? doesn’t matter to them that you haven’t been sick for a few days now.

you’re tired of the sticky sweet, slightly salty flavor of them. your eyes burn when they land on the colorful label, the smell of it makes you want to throw the bottle out of your high story apartment window. you’re surprised that your piss isn’t pure sports drink at this point.

still, you drink them. the smile on their faces when you hand them the empty bottle is enough to keep you doing it. the way they take care of you, the way it makes them happy to see you comfortable? you wouldn’t trade that for the world.

you’re on your third bottle when minho plops onto the couch next to you, immediately latching onto your side and pulling seungmin down into your lap from where he was sitting on your other side. his head lands on your lower belly and he gasps in surprise, squirming as he gets comfortable. his weight presses against your bladder, full of almost three sports drinks now, and it sends a ting up to your head.

“wait, babe,” you wriggle, trying to dislodge your arm from minho’s grip. “i have to go, give me a minute.”

“no,” minho and seungmin whine together, sharing a grin before settling deeper into you.

“c’mon,” you whine back, tugging again at your arm in vain. “let me gooo.”

“you can wait,” minho throws a leg over yours, thigh almost hitting seungmin’s face as he all but traps you into the cushions. seungmin raises a lazy hand and rubs at the bare skin of minho’s thigh from where his shorts had ridden up. you feel minho shudder a bit against you before relaxing, melting completely into you.

you sigh and accept it. it’s so rare that the three of you get to sit in once space together and relax; with their album having released recently, they’re always running around on different schedules, performing on various stages and going through interview after interview and even when they come home together they’re so tired that they almost collapse on their feet at the door. when they’re not doing things together they’re off on separate ventures, meetings with choreographers or their producers to write songs or whatever their next project is for that week.

so with the two of you wrapped around you like this, it does seem a bit silly to dislodge them just to use the bathroom.

the two of them gently bicker over what to watch, seungmin arguing that you and him were in the middle of a movie before minho came in and minho firing back that he didn’t know what happened during the first half so wouldn’t it be fair to change it to something all three of you could enjoy?

throughout their argument, minho wordlessly hands the sports drink you had left on the coffee table to you, metal straw poised near your mouth. seungmin scratches a bit at his thigh when you take it from him reflexively, just how minho likes it, all while they continue talking at each other. you might not have noticed their behavior if the mere sight of the drink sends a warning signal from your bladder to your brain.

what are they doing.

minho glances pointedly at your hand, eyes flickering to your mouth and back, and he smiles in satisfaction when you raise it to your lips and take a tentative sip. you take another when you notice your throat did feel a bit dry, thirst battling with your need to pee in an utterly confusing way. you hope they don’t notice when you squeeze your legs together just a bit, holding off the need to pee in a temporary relief.

minho meets seungmin’s eyes and the younger tips the drink back towards your mouth from where you had let it lower to your lap.

“what?” you ask, a little breathless. “i’m not really that thirsty, love. i’ll drink it later.”

seungmin shrugs, turning his attention back to the tv. minho sends a glare to him, but it quickly morphs into a smirk when seungmin puts on the anime the three of you love and have seen four times through, exiting out of the movie.

you’re still confused, but you let yourself melt back into the cushions and focus on the screen. whatever they were up to, you wouldn’t find out until they wanted you to. you’ve learned that lesson time and time again, and it’s taught you to just let things happen instead of wracking your head over it. the two boys were utterly unpredictable on their own but together? you didn’t stand a chance.

“let’s take a shower,” seungmin suggests, breaking the comfortable silence the three of you had maintained for a while. a shower sounded nice, especially with the two of them - they always paid you the most attention, lathering you up so gently and rinsing your hair until you were practically purring in their arms. but. if you got up right now, you weren’t sure that you could hold your bladder in.

you look down at the drink in your hand, intending to hand it over to minho to put away, but it’s finished. you don’t remember drinking any more of it, but you must have done it subconsciously when your attention was on the tv. you didn’t even realize that four episodes had passed already.

the reminder of the sheer amount of liquid in your body makes your lower belly ache, and you’re this close to telling seungmin to go on without you. however, the toilet was in the same room as the shower - and now that your bladder is in the forefront of your mind, that was where you needed to go as soon as physically possible.

“go ahead and get the water going, seungminnie,” minho says, voice soft and eyes fond. “we’ll be right there.”

seungmin moves off of your lap, disappearing in a flurry and while you thought the removal of his weight might have helped, it actually did the opposite. it was as if he was stopping you from feeling the full force of your aching bladder, absorbing the feeling into himself somehow, and as soon as he was gone it took over your entire body so intensely that you had to hunch over.

“let’s go, baby,” minho all but coos at you, standing up but not letting go of your arm. he helps you up, letting you lean against him as the two of you shuffle over to the bathroom in agonizingly slow steps.

“just give me one second,” you squeeze minho’s hand after he leads you through the double doors, stepping towards the toilet. you’ve been together long enough that peeing in front of them doesn’t phase any one of you, and even if it did you’re too desperate to care right now.

“not so fast,” minho tugs on your hand and you stumble into him, the movement making you clench so that you don’t pee all over the floor.

“min, c’mon,” you plead, voice coming out in a whine. “let me go, or i’m going to make a mess and you’re going to have to clean it up.”

“shower first,” he says, his tone making it clear that you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “you can do it, hmm? you can hold it for us, our good girl.”

his words send another pang throughout your body, this time through your pussy as it all falls into place. you can feel your heartbeat throughout your entire body and your knees feel weak; if he wasn’t holding you up they might have given out there and then.

“i-i can’t,” you bite out, trying and failing to stand your ground.

“you can,” minho says, firm and unmovable. you let him peel off your clothes, your entire body shaking and fever-hot all over. he sheds his own quickly, pushing you into the large shower and into seungmin’s arms. you’re glad for him, because otherwise you might have fallen straight to the tiles under the spray in a sad heap. minho slides up behind you and wraps his arms around your midsection, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp.

the water dripping down your frames and swirling down the drain is transfixing, and you were so close to letting go if the embarrassment of pissing yourself didn’t stop you. you can’t look away from the drain, from the clear water that makes you wonder what it would look like if it was tinged yellow.

“hyung?” seungmin asks, breaking your trance, his eyes shining at minho as he looks at him for guidance.

“take care of our girl,” minho nods, keeping you still when seungmin moves away. you expect him to reach for the loofah hanging by the shower head, or the bar of soap sitting in the caddy, but instead he sinks to his knees in front of you. he looks up at you with reverence, the shower spray hitting his back and the overhead light shining down on him making him look like some kind of angel.

or a devil, your mind tells you as he leans forward to press light kisses to your thighs. minho wedges a leg in between yours, nudging your knees apart so seungmin has access to your throbbing pussy. he makes a delighted noise and dives in, tongue flicking at your folds as his hands keep your thighs apart.

“fuck, seung,” you moan, muscles tightened as you try not to release onto his face. “i can’t hold it.”

neither of them pay you any mind; minho’s hands massage at your lower belly as seungmin laps at you like you’re his last meal, his tongue dipping inside of you and reaching points he never has before.

“p-please,” you gasp, not knowing what you were even asking for. for minho to let up on the pressure around your middle, for seungmin to move his face away from your pussy, for him to go harder and never stop.

“do you need to go, honey?” minho says, voice right in your ear. it sends a lick of flames up your spine, and seungmin hums into you when you let out a list of syllables that you hope mean god, yes, please let me. “then come for us, and i promise you can go after.”

it’s like his words flip a switch inside of you, because immediately after he orders it you’re coming. your hips jerk against seungmin’s mouth, his nose rubbing against your clit as the fire climbs downwards and explodes into embers that take over your entire body.

when the last of the shocks fade away, the pang of desperation from your bladder comes back in full force. your knees shake, you can feel your entire body trembling in an attempt to not piss all over your boyfriend who is still kneeling between your legs.

“baby, come up here,�� minho calls to seungmin, pulling him away from where he had begun sucking at your inner thigh. he rises to his knees in an unfairly graceful way and presses his body up against your front so you’re sandwiched between them. the gentle pressure of his hips pushing against minho’s hands makes you double over, your face squishing against seungmin’s chest as you finally lose control over yourself.

you can feel the warm stream sliding down your legs, the sound of it mixing with the shower spray and creating some kind of weird harmony. you let out a sob, half from the utter relief you feel at letting go and half at the embarrassment of pissing yourself like this, even if they made you do it. you close your eyes and throw your head back against minho’s collarbone, mouth hanging open from how overwhelmed you feel.

“i’m sorry,” you choke out, chest heaving in with your breaths and shuddering out. the flow finally tapers off, the last bits of release tricking down and swirling down the drain. “fuck, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, love,” seungmin shushes you, sliding a hand up your waist as minho presses wet kisses to the back of your head. “that was so fucking hot, you don’t even know.”

you watch with tired eyes as minho’s hand creeps around you to circle around seungmin’s dick, hard and upright, and seungmin sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. his own hand snakes behind you, to minho’s cock, and they jerk each other off with you between them, pliant and jelly limped as you lean against them. they come together, both of their heads buried into your neck and their combined come spurting out onto your legs and sliding down like your piss had earlier.

the three of you stand there for several moments, catching your breath and regaining the feeling in your legs. seungmin does actually reach for the loofah then, lathering it up with minho’s expensive soaps and spending extra time scrubbing at your legs. you float in a dazed mess as they rinse you off, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and then guiding your limbs into satin pajamas.

“thirsty?” seungmin asks after he deposits you into the covers of your shared california king bed, and your parched throat aches to say yes. you almost do, but when you turn your head to look at what’s in his outstretched hand it’s -

a bottle of the god damn sports drink.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #seungmin imagines #seungmin smut #2min smut #skz 2min #lee know imagines

862 notes · View notes

keeksandgigz · 4 months

Note

hiii keeks! saw that we could share our thoughts about witchy and eddie soo i wanted to share that i’ve been thinking all day about eddie making witchy squirt with the rose quartz dildo lolololol🫠

goddamn y’all love that rose quartz dildo down omg 🫣

this can be read as a pt. 2 for this post

this is for @reidsbtch specifically cause that was her idea 🤭

this is strictly 18+ minors DNI please

“Witchy, can I ask you a question?” he says out of nowhere, as you’re reading your book on the couch. Your head lifts, and you can sense the wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“What is it?” you ask, closing the book you weren’t really reading, just using it as a cover up to ogle at your boyfriend while he played guitar next to you.

“Y’know how you complained about the dildo I got you not being uhhh” his cheeks tinge pink, as he looks into an indiscernible place on your living room wall, like the answer was going to be on the pink wallpaper of your house.

“Big enough?” you finish the sentence for him, he purses his lips and nods.

“Why didn’t you use your magic to make it bigger, or uh- curved or something?” he asks, a frog trapped in his throat as he everything he says comes out like a half- croak, maybe a side effect of when he turned himself into a frog on accident.

“Oh, no I did. I just made it look like your dick” you say, a shrug of your shoulders makes the purple shawl you were wearing fall off of them, nonchalant, like you were telling him your grocery list.

Eddie’s eyes bug out of his sockets at that. The thought of you using a dildo shaped like his dick? He nearly bursts in his pants at that.

“You uh- uh you what?” he stammers, a crimson red tinges his pale cheeks, blinking quickly at his goddess of a girlfriend who just so happens to be an actual witch and his dream come true? He really is so, so lucky.

“Yeah, I just- y’know did my magic thing” you say, a dramatic movement of your hands follow it “Do you know wanna see it?”

He blinks at you, slowly “Do I wanna- Do I- Fuck, witchy of course I wanna fucking see it” he mumbles, as you stand up, guiding him to your room.

You open the mahogany dresser in front of your bed, rummaging through piles of silk and wool, taking out what seems to be Eddie’s dick in crystal form. Veins and everything.

“Holy shit, witchy, you’re a fucking freak. Jesus Christ” he hisses, feeling his cock stir under his zipper, fighting the urge to toss you on the bed and use it on you.

“Have- have you used it yet?” he breathes, his hands finding purchase in his pockets, fighting himself from acting upon all the dirty thoughts he’s been currently having.

“Oh, I was waiting to use it with you” you say as you throw yourself onto the bed, blushing slightly at the darkened stare your boyfriend gives you, hair fanned out around your head and spreading you legs for him.

“Fuck, witchy, you can’t say shit like that” he rubs a hand over his eyes as he inches towards you. You blink up at him, bottom lip caught in between your teeth.

His hands run up your legs, bunching your long skirt up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs.

“Are you gonna use it on me, Eddie?” you mumble against the skin of his cheek, breath already heaving at the feeling of his calloused hands on your skin, creeping up the inside of your thigh.

“Witchy, God, you have no idea what i’m gonna do to you” he whispers as he undoes the buttons of your shirt, kissing your arm up to your wrist.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I’m the only one who can bring you to your knees, am I right?” he bites down on your neck and you let out a weak “yes” as you arch into him.

“You don’t have to be so strong and powerful all the time, huh? Are you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, hands hooking on the sides of your panties, sliding them off your legs.

You squirm under him, handing him the rose quartz.

“You get so fucking wet, witchy, and I barely did anything” he snickers, kneeling at the foot of the bed, nestling himself between your legs.

He probes your entrance with the crystal, as you whimper under him, with the cold surface coming into contact with the heat radiating in between your legs.

“Put it in, please” you whine, arching your hips into him.

“Such good manners, witchy” he smiles wickedly at you, letting the toy enter you. A loud moan you’ve been holding in your throat escapes you as he pumps the quartz in and out of you.

“Big stretch, baby, huh?” his cocky smirk is the only thing you can see in the dark room.

“Yes, so- so big” you pant out as he reaches a hand on your stomach to feel the quartz go in and out of you, slightly putting pressure there as he drives himself forward, tongue darting out to lick at our clit.

An animalistic noise falls out of you as you begin to grind yourself on him.

“You’re so dirty, witchy. Using your magic for something so, so, filthy? What would your coven say, hm?” he proceeds to give you another lick, making you jolt in pleasure.

“Would they say how much of a slut you are, my lovely witchy? Because no matter how much you try to hide it, you really are just a witchy slut” he drives the crystal in further, making you wail in pleasure.

“God, Eddie- fuck” you thrash on your mattress “right there, there there there” a chant falling out of your lips, his head between your thighs as he keeps on drawing moans and wails from you, it’s never felt this good before.

The coil feels weird in your tummy, like a pooling sensation that is making its way down, down, down. You fist and paw at your sheets and at Eddie’s hair as you search for purchase somewhere, anywhere.

His tongue keeps lapping at you, humming and slurping sounds filling the room as he keeps driving the crystal in.

“Ed-Ed I feel- mmm weird” you stutter, almost unable to get the sentence out along moans and whines.

“C’mon, witchy. You close?” he asks, placing a kiss on the seam of your thigh.

“huh ‘mclose” you mumble, as you let yourself be taken over by the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.

“You gonna cum f’me? Go on, baby, let go, I got you” he mumbles against the skin of your tummy as the coil in your tummy violently snaps, and your vision goes white. Eddie lets himself be soaked. Hair, face, arms, shirt, nothing is saved.

It takes you a couple minutes to come back to him, seeing white spots. You feel the wetness of the sheets under you and gasp.

“It’s alright, witchy, I gotcha. That was really hot, baby” he mumbles, scooping you in his arms, as you tremble from the aftershocks.

“I uh- I didn’t know I could do that” you mumble.

“Witchy, I think you’re magical” he whispers, putting his nose to yours, making you chuckle.

You try to stand up, but he won’t let you.

“No, witchy. Stay here, I’ll run you a milk bath and while you do that I’ll wash your sheets, sounds good?” he asks, kissing the tip of your nose.

You just hum, as he lays you down and disappears into the bathroom.

Your body really does love him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x witchy!reader #the witchyverse #eddie x witchy #keeksgetsasks!#keekswrites #anon

213 notes · View notes

anime-addict-362 · 1 year

Text

Better Than a Street Whore

CW: NSFW, Shigaraki x Y/N, bottom Shigaraki, he threatens to kill Y/N a lot, begging, overstimulation, lots of kissing, half-assed written aftercare, Y/N switches between degrading his dick and prasing him for being good, I wrote this within 2 hours, forgive me, it was out of boredom promise

× × × × × ×

Shigaraki stood in front of Y/N. Why did she need to be there? She was hired by All For One, but she didn't do anything. Just sat around on her phone all day.

Despite her lack of work, All For One demanded she be there, and he was not allowed to kill her. Damnit.

"Can you leave," He asked, annoyed with the sound of her nails clacking on her phone screen.

"Nah," Y/N didn't even look at him, still typing. "Big man wants me here. I gotta be here."

"Why," Shigaraki scoffed.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Ask him, he's your master or whatever."

"I-"

"And what is up with that," Y/N rolled her eyes. "Master used outside of the bathroom? Weird."

He blinked. What was she talking about? What did she mean, outside of the bedroom?

"Don't tell me you're confused," She finally looked up from her phone, to look at him amused. "Not bitch boy being a virgin."

Not allowed to kill her. He was allowed to hurt her.

She dodged the glass that flew towards her head with a yelp, and she grabbed her phone before she could drop it.

"I'm not a virgin," He yelled over the glsss shattering.

"Jesus," She mumbled. "It was just a goddamn joke. The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Real fucking funny," He rolled his eyes.

"So," She asked, standing up fully. "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

His eyes widened. "None of your goddamn business!"

He wanted to dust her when she approached, but no, he wasn't allowed to.

"I bet you used that nomu," She pouted, ignoring his rage filled look. "You needed to feel in control for once so you took something you could order around with no consequence."

"I- I absolutely-"

"Or," She smirked, running a hand on his tense stomach. "You had it fuck you until you couldn't breath, just to get out of your mind for a bit. I could only imagine the cock one those things-"

Shigaraki smacked her hands when she started estimating the... girth of a potential nomu penis. "They don't even have a penis!"

"Oh," Y/N looked to him. "Still big fingers. One is around the size over a bigger than average human dick. I get you could take multiple though-"

"I'm going to murder you," She yelped with a laugh as he reached for her, and she ran.

"No killing me," She squealed as he threw her on the couch. "It's not allowed! Your master wouldn't like it!"

He groaned. Of course he told her about the rule. "Just- Leave. Get out."

"I can't," She shrugged, relaxing back. "Not for a few weeks."

He walked away, but like a fucking dog, she followed with a giggle. "So? Did you fuck the nomus?"

"No," He yelled.

"You can tell me," She pouted. "I'll share one of my fucked up sex stories if you tell me yours."

"No," He scoffed.

"Virgin," She accused.

"Shut up," He grabbed another cup but she was taking it from him before he could chuck it at her.

"Are you a virgin," This time, her tone of genuine. "No laughing, promise."

He blinked, confused on why she cared... Fuck it. Maybe it'll get her to back off.

"No," He answered honestly. "And it wasn't a nomu, you sick freak."

She shrugged. "So who was it?"

Shigaraki moved uncomfortably, shrugging. "I don't remember her name. Just a hook up from awhile ago."

"So it didn't mean anything," She looked judgey. "Have you had any meaningful sex?"

He scoffed. "I lead a very large group of murderous villains. What makes you think I have time for feelings?"

She shrugged, and he jumped at her grabbing his hand. She held it up by the palm, then traced his fingers once she turn it upright.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," He mumbled, watching her fingers trace his calloused hand.

"This is not nearly a suicide attempt," She chuckled. "How do you have sex with absolutely no feeling behind it? I never understood the hype around that."

He gulped as her hand continued up his arm. "I- I don't know. It's just how it is."

She hummed, a hand going to his chest. "You're not pushing me away."

She was right. He wasn't.

"I don't have meaningful sex," He tried to tell her, both of her hands now on him. "I don't let feelings get involved."

"That's not exactly what meaningful sex means," She mumbled, pulling his shirt up suddenly. "At least not to me."

He helped pull the shirt off. God, it was hot in there. She shoved him against the bar, hands holding his waist. He was awfully skinny, so she grabbed quite a bit of him just like that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," She whispered, going to his neck. "Gonna let me? Let me make you feel amazing."

He huffed, staring at her body, that was pressed up against his. He gasped at the bite on his neck. "Fuck- Yes. Yes Y/N."

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wrap in his hair. She held him in place while she kissed him, roughly. He groaned, gripping the counter behind him.

"You're hot," She grinned, hands swiping over his ribs. "Lead me to your room."

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to have sex with a woman he finds insanely annoying?

He didn't need to answer that, because the way he pulled her to his bedroom was answer enough.

Y/N pulled him back into a rough kiss the second the door was closed, pushing him against it.

"Now, listen up," She grabbed his face, holding it in place so he stayed looking at her. "I want you touching me, so go put on those silly gloves you have."

Shigaraki huffed, but listened. He moved to his nightstand and grabbed them, slipping them on easily. Once on, Y/N was back in him, kissing him, hands wandering.

He leaned down after a few moments, and picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "Okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Y/N confirmed with a small smile. She removed her arms around him to pull her shirt off... God, he better not drop her. She would be pissed.

In his defense, he seemed to be somewhat strong. At least enough to hold her.

Once the shirt was off, she proceeded to kiss down his neck. "Lay down on the bed, Shigaraki. Sit me right on you."

Shigaraki wasn't sure he had it in him to refuse. Not with the way her sweet voice sounded, so close to his ear, the way her hand tangled in his hair, the other running down his chest again.

So he sat on the bed, making sure Y/N's legs weren't trapped under him before he laid back. He didn't even think over how good Y/N would look straddling him.

Y/N smiled when she noticed Shigaraki's eyes wandering. "Like what you see?"

"It's decent," Shigaraki huffed.

Y/N pouted at that. "We both know that's a lie. I can tell by the way your face is already burning, you think much different."

Shigaraki gulped, looking up to Y/N. "I don't-"

"I also feel your hard on," Y/N chuckled, putting her hands on either side of his head. "Why not just tell me how you feel? You might get something in return."

He stared at her. "Like?"

"You're a smart man, Shigaraki. Look at our position and take a guess about what I'll do to you," She chuckled. "So? Go on."

He looked her in the eye. "You're fucking infuriating."

"Ouch," She put a hand on her heart. "Keep going."

"You're... attractive, I guess," He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice crack right now.

"Attractive? Care to elaborate?"

God fuck, this woman.

"I hate you," He groaned, feeling a hand move to the waistband of his pants.

"I'll leave you all hard if you don't start doing what I ask," Y/N's voice was lower now, as if she wss threatening him.

He didn't care though. He could get himself off. He didn't need Y/N to make him come, even if he would probably regret it later... What would Y/N do?

Would she suck him off? Or would they just start having sex? He would enjoy either way but-

He gasped at the hand that grabbed his face, forcing him to look to Y/N. "I'm sitting right here, about to give you the best orgasm of your pathetic life and you're ignoring me?"

"No- I wasn't ignoring you," He went onto explain. But it was hard to explain the way his thoughts got caught up. It didn't matter though, because he remembered what she wanted.

"You're so hot," He huffed, grabbing the wrist of the hand that still held his face. "You're... Pretty too."

Y/N knew the word "pretty" wasn't ever in his vocabulary, but it did sound good coming out of his mouth, in that shaky voice.

"Pretty huh," She grinned, kissing him and finally letting go of his face. "You're pretty yourself, handsome."

He gulped at the compliment. He wasn't sure he liked the compliment, it sounded unrealistic. Him? Pretty? Handsome?

He wasn't given a lot of time to think it over, not with Y/N moving between his legs and pulling his sweatpants snd boxers off in one swipe.

"Y/N," He huffed, feeling her kiss the inside of his thighs. Why was she so bold? Why was she so close?

She kept kissing him, feeling his breathing picking up the closer she got to his dick. She really wanted to see him come, and she wanted it to be the best he's ever had.

Not that would be that hard. She's not the most experienced person in the world but compared to some random woman on the street? Odds are she was way better.

After a few moments, she reached down to her shirt pocket. Sweet, she still had a few condoms left.

"You know, I do think you're very attractive," Y/N spoke up, opening the condom. "I'm sure a lot of the fucked up women on the street want to have some fun with you. Probably even some men."

Shigaraki huffed. What do you say in response to that? Thanks?

"That being said, I think you're a little of a whore and always accept when someone asks to fuck you," Y/N's words made him tense.

"I am not-"

"What I'm getting at," Y/N interrupted him. "Is that I have a hard time believing you don't have some sort of STI. God knows what the people around here have. Especially Dabi."

Shigaraki scoffed. "I don't have an STI."

"Yeah? And who tested you, and when," Y/N raided an eyebrow. "I'm already lowering my standards to give you a decent orgasm, one better than those street sluts can give you, don't get picky now."

Shigaraki gulped as she slid the condom on him. "So what? You think I have a STI and you're still going to have sex with me?"

Y/N grinned. "Oh I'm not fucking you until you get tested. I'm just gonna get you off, and you're gonna get me off. But I'm sure I'll have to teach you, I doubt you know how to properly please a woman."

He glared at her. "Why are you suddenly being a bitch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you do know how to make a woman come? And you know, not one of those fake ones. I promise, I won't fake it."

He didn't even know what to say. What do you say to anything she's saying? She was nuts!

He groaned when her hand grabbed his dick, which was now completely covered by the condom. "If you're not gonna fuck me, what's with the condom?"

"You don't have running water here," Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Your dick is probably gross. Again, you seem like a great fuck, but I'm lowering my standards for you. They are practically rock bottom right now."

Shigaraki glared at her harder. "I could kill you at any moment."

"You're right," She smiled softly, starting to jack him off at a gentle pace. "You could. But you're not going to. You like me calling you gross. You're practically whimpering just because my hand is wrapped around your filthy cock. It twitches whenever I insult you. You fucking love this, being under me, just taking my insults."

Shigaraki groaned when she squeezed his cock suddenly, and very hard. He felt like he was close, all her dumb (and very untrue...) words were getting to him.

"Y/N," He gasped, trying to get her hand off of him.

"Beg," She grinned wildly. "Beg me to make you come, tell me how much you love me degrading your filthy cock. Do it."

He whimpered, grabbing her wrist. God, her grip was fucking tough.

"Please," He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please," He yelled out, holding her arm. "Fuck- Please Y/N, make me come. Degrade me, do whatever, just please, make me come."

...he was pathetic. What was wrong with him?

Y/N hummed, loosening her hand. "Keep going."

"Fuck," He breathed out at the relief. "Please Y/N, god fuck, I need it. I'm so close, please."

He might kill himself later, honestly.

She chuckled, and moved her hand, just enough to get him to come. "I've heard better. But I guess I can't expect too much from you."

Shigaraki moaned, stomach tensing. "Y/N- Oh god."

"C'mon," Y/N grinned, hand moving quicker. "You can come, Tomura. You're doing so good, keep going."

Her suddenly, sickeningly sweet words made his heart tighten, and he eyes roll back. "Fuck- Y/N- please."

She leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in her mouth, a hand going up to her back. He needed something to hold.

Y/N hissed as his free fingers caught on her skin, but just moved her hand quicker. And it worked, because he was moaning aloud again, as he came, filling the condom.

He whimpered when her hand didn't stop, and moved the hand on her back to her hip to grab more. "Y/N, please, I came already."

"It wasn't good enough," Y/N kissed just under his ear. "I wanna see you crying. I wanna hear you yell my name, I need you begging me to stop because you can't handle how good it feels."

Shigaraki let out a sob, her hand not letting up the quick pace at all. "Y/N- Its too much, please."

"You're doing so good," She whispered, and kissed his jaw. "You're taking it so good, you're being so good for me. You can take another one, I know you can."

He nodded slowly, barely aware of the fact he was drooling. He laid his head back as she kissed him. She was so sweet now. What changed? Did he do something to make her want to be nice all of the sudden?

"Y/N," He moaned quietly against her lips. "Please- I don't think I can-"

"You can," She whispered again, sending a weird feeling through Shigaraki. "You're doing so good already. I know you can be even better."

He felt another sob rip through his chest. "Be mean again- Stop."

She hummed, kissing him. "Why would I be mean when you're being such a good boy? You deserve to be treated nicely after listening,to me so well."

He moaned as her hand twisted around the head of his cock, spreading the come throughout the condom. "I'm- I'm close again- Y/N, god."

"Good boy," She hummed. "C'mon, be a good boy and come for me."

He sobbed and he felt his orgasm build up again. It was a lot, almost overwhelming. "It's- I'm coming- Y/N," He moaned shakily as he came, feeling tears fall as her hand helped him through it.

"Good job," She whispered, stopping her hand. "Such a good job."

He took a deep breath, but it only came out uneven and shaky. He yelped when her hand tightened and moved down the length of his cock slowly.

"Y/N, please," He sobbed, hands shaking, and hips pulling away.

She laughed, pulling her hand away. "Now tell me... Was that better or worse compared to those street whores?"

"Better," He sobbed again, her legs just barely brushing up again his cock. "So much better- Fuck!"

She couldn't stop grinning. But she decided to have some mercy, and stop touching his dick until he calmed down. For now, she just held him, arms wrapping around him.

She sighed at the sob and his arms wrapping around her back, tears wetting her shoulder. "You did such a good job, Tomura. Go ahead and rest."

Why was he still crying? It was done, they were done. But her consistent praise wasn't helping.

"Take a deep breath, Tomura. You did so good, you're done," She kissed his neck. "C'mon, take a deep breath now."

He was way past the point of feeling silly, so he just listened to her, taking a deep breath. He noticed something wet on his hand so he looked to where it restrd on Y/N back.

"I'm sorry," He breathed out, noticing he definitely made her bleed with scratches... It was hard to go out and get nail clippers, okay? Fuck off.

Y/N found the apology comical. He threatened to kill her multiple times and now he was apologizing for a scratch. She made the decision to lot laugh though.

"It's okay," She smiled softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?"

He shook his head. "No- I need to make you-"

"It's okay, Tomura," She sat up, out of his arms. "It's alright. You're tired, you need to rest. And I'm going to clean you up."

He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

It took a few minutes for the embarrassment to set in. It seemed the moment Y/N was cleaning his come covered dick was the moment he lost his humanity, and was officially a disgrace of a villain.

"Oh stop," Y/N scoffed as he tried to pull away. "So dramatic, its just your own dick."

He huffed, face red. "I'm good- Please leave."

"Uh huh," She finally stopped, throwing the towel next to the bed. "Get your eyes off my tits, perv."

"Put your shirt back on," He argued back.

She shrugged, and grabbed her shirt. "I'll be downstairs," He watched her get up and walk out his bedroom. "You owe me an orgasm!"

#mha smut #x reader #x y/n #dom y/n #dom reader #sub Shigaraki #bottom shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura Shigaraki x y/n #top reader #dom reader x Shigaraki

552 notes · View notes

ravencincaide · 2 months

Text

A Lucid Reality

Summary: In which you are aware that you and Chuuya can never be in the normal sense of a “couple” but that doesn’t mean Chuuya won’t be there to comfort and protect you. Even if it means he has to visit you through a dream..

Pairing: Reader x partner/lover Chuuya

Inspired by “A month of Sweetness” Sneak peak prompt 1: Dream

Warnings: Cursing, hurt/comfort,

Enjoy~

“ What’s the matter sweetheart?” Chuuya’s voice was deliberately quiet, barely above a whisper. Yet it managed to echo around the small living room in an almost deafening fashion. “ Hard day?”

You didn’t reply.

Your gaze was focused somewhere in the distance, an empty space in the otherwise filled-to-the-brim room, the combination of your and Chuuya’s things, a messy awkwardly stuffed combination of your and Chuuya’s things. Some of which were duplicates; same cups, similar notebooks. furoshiki with half wrapped gifts and accidentally identical omiyage. Others were personal, a packet of cigarettes peeking out atop a box full of folders, dozens of plushies in all shapes and sizes; private pictures sliding out of albums and clothes. His pristine black coat draped over a box, your worn out one tossed carelessly to the floor right in front of you.

Your mind was in a place far away from the safety and comfort of your dream home. Drifting in and out of reality with every syllable that dropped past his lips; some moments awkwardly aware of his presence, other times painfully aware of his absence.

“ Goddamn it, are you even listening to me, Y/N?” He was close to yelling, yet the amplitude seemed the same. The words echoed around the space just as loud as his earlier whisper“ Y/N?”

“ You’re not here” you sighed and brought the tear stained pillow closer to yourself; placing it in your lap, you wrapped your arms tightly around it in a feeble attempt to mimic a hug. Then you rested your head on top of it. A sigh escaped your lips as you felt the cursed thing deflate under your touch, as if avoiding you.

An inanimate object too, huh?

“ Sweetheart..” you heard him breath out but you ignored it. The same as you ignored the way his lips pulled down into a frown, the look on his face turned serious. His arms crossed over his chest, eyes a fixed stare at your feeble form on the couch. He was telling you- no ordering you to look at him. Yet all you did was focus more on the spot behind his shoulder.

Chuuya sighed; an exasperated sound that came from the soul before he pushed himself from the wall. He approached you slowly, as if in hope that you’d turn to face him with a bright smile and say you were fine. That you would make it- that you didn’t need him today. That you were going to be strong without him.

Instead you remained silent, and he all too obediently sat down on the edge of the couch beside you. His body turned to face you, worried blue orbs running up and down your form. The edges of his lips twitched, as if he wanted to say something but could not bring himself to.

“ You are not actually here.” your words were accompanied with a sigh and the burning behind your eyelids. What you would do to have him beside you and yet you knew better than anyone it was nothing but an impossibility.

A foolish dream from a foolish girl that would never amount to anything good.

“ Does it matter sweetheart?” Chuuya asked as he took his hat off and studied it in his hands- something to do that didn’t entail staring at you.

You scoffed, finally shifting your gaze from the wall and onto him. You were met with a gentle smile, clearly pleased that he had your attention. Your look however was less than amused; “ How can you even ask that? Of course it matters!”

“ It shouldn’t”

You gaped at him. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as all sorts of mean exclamations ran through your mind. What did he take you for? Why did he think it wouldn’t matter whether he was there with you or not? How dare he assume you would just-

“ Dollface I don’t have to be with you every second of every day to be ‘here’” Chuuya rolled his eyes. At your raised eyebrow he leaned closer, his gloved hand on your cheek, a ghost of a sensation on your skin. His lips pulled up into a boyish grin, mischief radiated off of it.

“ C’mon don’t give me that; no self respected man can stay with their lover every second of every day, there’s work, life and other shit. This isn’t much different” Chuuya shrugged ever so slightly. You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back the half rude remark that even long-distance lovers had more than what you two shared.

As if he read your thoughts, Chuuya’s smirk widened ever so slightly. “ Please sweets, we can talk and I can touch you. Long distance doesn’t have that” he then chuckled, his look turned even more mischievous. Suddely he leaned closer to your ear; “ And we both know I can rock your world even without 'touching you'” he purred then nipped your earlobe.

“ Chuuya!” you gasped, your face flushed red. Your blush moved onto tomato-shade as his chuckle echoed around you. Still he held onto your face, not letting you pull too far away or look anywhere but him, anywhere but the sincere blue of his eyes.

“ I can protect you sweetheart” he breathed suddenly, the words a tiny whisper inches from your lips, reserved only for you and your ears. If it wasn't so silent you'd have missed them “ I can guide you, but you need to put in the work my darlin”

At the word ‘work’ you sighed heavily, your shoulders dropped in surrender. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. You salvaged the sensation of his thumb as it brushed your cheek, and the faint warmth against your face with his every breath. If you closed your eyes and disregarded logic then you could fool yourself into believing that this was a reality. The reality you needed the most at that very moment. The caring sensation of his lips on your skin, the salvation of his breath on yours. Affection with no strings attached; attention that was reserved for you and only you. Not to be shared with another; not to be taken away for a little mistaken or some other reason entirely out of your control. Not to be responsible for anyone but yourself.

In here you were safe and not so very alone.

Suddenly Chuuya pulled back, his lips leaving your skin. The warmth of his leather glove, a ghost of a touch, gone. The action made you whine and open your eyes, a silent plea not to stop. Just a minute- a second longer. Please.

“ Sweetheart” Chuuya leaned forward again until your foreheads connected, a grave expression on his face. “ You need to wake up”

“ W-what?”

“ You need to wake up Sweets; right NOW!”

You opened your eyes with a startle just in time to hear the click of your front door lock giving away. Your heart in your throat; your mind vaguely registering that you were alone and were not expecting visitors at this hour.

Author note: I was asked for some Chuuya sweetness/comfort and so peeked out of my studying to tease ya'll with this little thing. And what is it? Well this is a little sneak peek of a set of prompts i’m releasing in late March/April called “ A month of Sweetness” which will focus entirely on comfort, fluff and sweetness. A loving Chuuya, a protective Dazai and more. So stay tuned for those.

Until then, if you liked this fic and want more of my work: check out Raven's masterlist!

©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x you #Chuuya fluff #chuuya hurt comfort #A month of sweetness #raven cincade's works #ravencincaide #raven cincaide #raven sneak peak #chuuya x yn #chuuya x y/n

77 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

Nightlife 14

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You sit on the couch, your back to the armrest, your legs bent over Lee's lap. The TV glares over you as you chew your thumb, paying little attention to the classic 70s thriller. You can't escape the pit of self-pity that threatens to swallow you up.

You feel his hand on your thigh, kneading through your thin shorts, but you don't react. He's touchy feely like that but you've learned to just tune it out. You pick at your thumbnail as you drift into your doubts.

"Y'alright?" He asks as he gently taps your leg.

"Yeah, good," you wisp out, startled by his sudden intonation, "just thinking…"

"Ah, don't do much of that. Should be tryna enjoy our time together," he squeezes your thigh, "ain’t this nice, darling'?"

"Yea–" before you can answer, your phone buzzes loudly and rattles against the wooden coffee table.

You swing your legs off of Lee and he huffs. You grab your phone as the bold word 'Dad' beams at you from the screen. You fumble to get a grip and hit answer as you stand and quickly skirt away from the couch.

"Hi, dad," you keep your voice low as you put your finger in your other ear.

"I got your message, what is going on?" He asks bluntly.

You gulp as you enter the small kitchen, trying to escape the noise of the television. You turn and press your back to counter, mustering what little backbone you have.

"Um, dad, it's about school–"

"Don't tell me I have to spend even more on this," he snips.

"No, dad, I… please, I'm sorry…" your chest fills up, feeling as if it might burst, "I have to tell you something."

"Then tell me. I have a business dinner in ten minutes."

You inhale and close your eyes. Your ears are ringing. He's going to lose his mind. You remember how he tore up the participation ribbon you got in cross country running. Yeah, he doesn't like losers.

"I'm failing. I'm going to lose my scholarship–"

"What?!" He yells, "don't fucking do this to me."

"Please, dad, let me– I schedule an appointment with an academic counselor and I might–"

"No, no, we had a deal," his anger burns through the speaker, "you've gone and wasted my money. You stupid little girl. How hard is it to maintain a B average? That's all I asked and you once more disappoint me–"

You're choking on tears as you listen to his wrath. You shake and cross your arm over your stomach. It's what you expected but worse.

"You are getting a job and you are paying rent. Fucking dropout. My daughter, a failure. A goddamn disappointment–"

You move the phone away from your face as his voice rises louder and louder. You can hear him clearly still as you tremble and stare at the pulsing icon at the center of the screen.

"Loser–"

The phone is suddenly swiped from your hand as Lee fills the doorway and you squeak. You try to take it back as he clears his throat and puts it to his ear. No! No! You clutch your hands together in horror.

"Now, you don't talk to her like that. That's your daughter, she ain't need all that. She's asking for your help– I'll tell ya who I am. Someone who cares a lot more for her than you," Lee balls his fist as he grits his teeth, "don't you be calling her all those nasty names. Ahe ain't that, she's a good lady– ah you talk a lot for a man who isn't standing in front me."

"Lee!" You squeal, "please–"

"You don't want her to come home then she won't. She's got me and I'll take care of her. Yeah, yeah, go have a fucking heart attack, you old coot."

He pulls the phone away and jabs his thumb down on the screen. He drops it on the counter and shakes his head.

"He's got no business talkin' to ya that way," he growls.

"Lee, that's my dad–"

"And ya didn't even hear half of what he said to me. You want to call someone like him your family when he ain't got no love for you," he scoffs.

You cover your face and heave. Oh god! You turn and lean on the counter, bending over as you hide behind your hands and sob. Everything is crashing down around you.

"Baby, don't cry. I was just standing up for ya, like you deserve," he puts his hand on your back, "ain't fair of ya to try to make me feel bad for that."

"You don't understand," you garble as you stand straight and drag your hands down your face, "he's all I have. My only family–"

"And you're scared as hell of him. That's not family, is it? He's pushing you to be something you ain't. You know I love you however you are."

"Love," you croak, "I… Lee, I…" you turn back to the counter and grip the edge.

You suffocate on shallow breaths as your head pulses. You can't see straight, you can barely think. It's not supposed to be like this. You weren't supposed to make your father proud. You were supposed to make something of yourself.

"Honey pie," he eases you away from the counter, keeping an arm around your back as you lean heavily, "come on, you needa breathe. Let's get you laying down, huh?"

He guides you out of the kitchen and through the front room. He takes you into the bedroom and puts you in the bed. Your eyes threaten to roll back as you suck in air.

He puts you against the pillows and wraps a blanket around you. He leaves and returns with a mewling Hickory, placing the cat on your stomach.

"Now, now, look, the little thing's so worried for ya. Give him a pet," he coos, "y'alright, honey, just calm down."

He loosens the blanket and lifts your arm above it, placing your hand on Hickory's soft fur.

"Feel that, he loves ya too," Lee coaxes, "he needs ya."

You stroke the kitten gently and slowly catch your breath. You let your eyes close and murmur. You don't know what's going on, it's as if you feel everything draining from you. A fracture forms down your middle and you know there's no way to put yourself back together.

"We're your family, blossom," Lee says, "me and Hick."

#lee bodecker x reader #dark lee bodecker #lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #drabble #series #nightlife #the club #the devil all the time

229 notes · View notes

wxnheart · 1 year

Note

Some Ghoap!Poly palooza please!! I’m losing my mind at work and those two (and the way you write them❤️) are keeping me sane 😭

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐚: 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐚𝐩 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Simon regrets not dropkicking Johnny for encouraging you to get that goddamn Live, Laugh, Love sign. Why the fuck is it in the bathroom? Why does it disturb his morning routine? Why the fuck hasn't he thrown it away yet? WHY IS IT A SQUARE?!

...Okay, anyway, while Ghost is having a crisis of faith in the bathroom, you and Soap are busy setting up the living room because the day will be spent on the couch doing shit else but being together.

You've had a shitty week, Johnny's had a shitty week, and Ghost is just having a shitty everything so this was needed. In Simon's case, this was abso-fucking-lutely necessary. Yes, he protested. And like always, you and Soap gave no fucks. ("Majority wins, L.t." "...Fuck off, Johnny.")

And so, you three are taking a well-deserved break, consisting of watching shitty movies, junk food, and pestering Simon. Ah, you're living the dream.

Well, you were until you three couldn't decide on a movie to start with. Simon grunted and suggested you three just have sex all day, Johnny shrugged his shoulders and left the decision up to you, and you just... you've seen just about every movie you could possibly think of. And shit, maybe an all-day sex-a-thon doesn't sound half-bad...

...So you settled to let the T.V. watch you three. Talk. And be intimate. No sex, just intimacy. With junk food. You got the ball rolling. Asked them about their week and all that. Did so while making yourself comfortable on Simon who's in the middle. Again. ("...Not a bloody bed, you two." "You are this time, Lt." "...Goddamn it, Johnny.")

Turns out that was just what you three needed. A chance to talk and vent and just reaffirm your love for each other. To fucking feel each other. The conversation evolved from there. You three also found out more than you thought you would about each other's upbringing. It helped put a lot of things into perspective; it also deepened your bond even further.

But of course, you being you, you had the question that had been on your mind for some time: "Would you still love me if I was a worm?" Simon said no with the faint traces of a smirk on his lips. ("Go to hell, Simon.") Soap just gave you an uneasy smile. That's when you found out he doesn't too much like creepy crawlies. Of any kind. AT. ALL.

And so you three spent the day away just doing nothing but being intimate. And letting shitty television shows watch you. Meanwhile, you're falling even deeper for these two and you don't wanna get up. Felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn't feel so shitty anymore. The same could be said of Ghost and Soap, too.

You have takeout for dinner 'cause no one felt like getting up to cook. Was the best takeout ever, too. Sleep came easily that night and damn, you really did need that day with those two assholes.

Come morning, though, Simon still thinks that sign is shitty.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader x soap #soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #just 141 things.#just ghostly things.#poly palooza.

525 notes · View notes

mymisfitsbabe · 3 months

Text

Billy had just finished cleaning his kitchen, just finished putting away the last clean plate when someone pounded on the front door. Frowning, Billy pulled off his apron and tossed it on the counter.

“Who is it?” Billy asked as he padded over on bare feet to the closed door.

“Who the fuck do you think it is? Open the Goddamn door.” Gator called back.

“You can't just start showing up here, Tillman.”

“Just open the fucking door before I kick it down, Hargrove.”

Opening the door Billy sighed.

“What are you doing he- What the fuck is that?” Billy hissed as Gator pushed into his trailer and handed him a large furball.

“It's a dog.” Gator sneered as he moved further into the small living room.

“Uh, and why the fuck did you bring it here?” Billy asked as it wiggled in his hold, it's sandy brown fur already shedding onto his black shirt.

Gator turned and gave Billy an exasperated look, but Billy's focus shifted as he spotted the shiner Gator sported under his right eye. Gator was still in his police uniform, his vest had some blood on it and he was covered in dirt splotches. He smelled like sweat and dogs.

“What the hell happened to you?” Billy asked, shifting the pup to one arm so he could grab Gator's face and get a good look at his eye.

“Nothin. Anyways, you need a dog round here since it's so easy to break in this shit hole.”

“Oh fuck off, just cause you decided to go all psycho horror movie on me doesn't mean I need a damn dog.” Billy passed the ball of fur back to Gator.

“Just keep the fucking dog, Bills. It ain't gonna kill you.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with it? I'm at work 12 hours a day.”

“Take it with you, Benny loves dogs and the shop is gated off.”

“Great, then give Benny the dog if he loves them so much.”

“I didn't get the dog for Benny, I got it for you.”

Billy sighed, as Gator set the dog on the couch. The thing was huge for a pup, thick sandy brown fur with bright brown eyes. It's paws and ears seemed too big for its body and the thing looked half wild.

“Where'd you get it from anyways?” Billy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the pup suspiciously.

“It's a police pup reject. The mom got knocked up by a wolf and this is the pup. Bright side is it's trained.” Gator rambled as he sat next to the pup and started petting it's head.

“A wolf? You want me to keep a wolf as a pet?” Billy balked.

“Course, they make great guard dogs. Roy has a pack of bout six back home.”

“Gator, I don't know. I've never had a dog before,” Billy carted a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. “I don't have food for it and the store is closed.”

Gator shrugged, his face turning down. “I got stuff in the truck, you don't need to get it nothing. I just thought you'd like it. It's gotta be shit being out here alone all the time.”

Gator was chewing on his lip, looking like he'd been kicked and Billy sighed. “What’s his name?”

“Gator Jr.” Gator smirked up at Billy.

“That's a shit name.” Billy said arching a brow and suppressing and grin

“Fuck you, Gator's an awesome name.” Gator threw the old beat up couch pillow at Billy.

Billy caught it and laughed. “I'm not calling him Gator, pick a different name you fucking redneck.”

Gator jutted his lip out and scratched the back of his head. “Fine, I guess her name is Eleven then. That's whats on her tags.”

“Christ, there's eleven of them?”

“Yeah, but the others are full German shepherds. The station is gonna keep those.”

“Go get her stuff and show me how to not kill her.” Billy sighed.

#caligator #harringrove #billy hargrove #gator tillman #stranger things #fargo #Puppy love #i got the brain rot #i love them your honor #If trash why hot #ao3

80 notes · View notes

icy-bluez · 2 months

Text

Picture Perfect

Warnings: slightly suggestive, crack fic, fluff.

Characters: Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier

Synopsis: Weird / endearing pictures you have of them.

A/N: Icy has nothing to say cuz Icy currently has a smooth bren.

Rafayel

Man's got cake.

Nah, he's got a fucking bakery.

And you were extremely slightly jealous.

(Unless your thang be thanging too.)

You have definitely clicked pictures of his ass on multiple occasions, especially when he's wearing those fancy clothes of his, tight with swaying buttcheeks as he walks. And then you probably proceeded to spank it.

"Rafayel, I have a question." You ask while he was spacing out, sitting in front of a giant canvas full of beautiful hues of colours.

"...Yes?"

"If you fall on your butt do you bounce back up from the sheer plushness of the muscle on your rear en-"

Rafayel almost snaps his neck when he turns his face towards you with a loud dramatic, "Say what-!?"

Let's just say he got really flustered and you got to see for yourself if he really did bounce back up when he fell from the stool.

Besides that you also have a shit ton of pictures of him pouting or sulking because you're pretty sure he does the picture perfect pout better than you when he's just...well....sulking.

Xavier

Some...incredibly weird sleeping positions.

You were on your way out of Akso hospital one day and saw fur, fluffy and golden hanging out from the tree. You assumed it was a cat.

You reached up to grab it. The cat-human entity grunted.

You jumped away like a startled cat yourself, only to see sleepy blue eyes peek from under a lowered tree branch. Lo and behold, it was a wild Xavier. Snap, went the camera.

You definitely have pictures of his chest, like, how are they so huge and squish-able. You've also wanted to lick the sweat off his abs once in a while because he's just so damn muscular and glows like a goddamn glowstic- (concerned personnel are requested to not try this at home unless they are also in possession of a wild Xavier or similar-)

"Xavier. Shirt off." You ordered with a slightly unhinged expression on your face.

"W-whuh? Y/N?"

"Now."

"W-wait why-"

"Shut up and let me worship your knead-ables."

Don't pretend you did not relish in his moans after you were done with worshipping his body. It did not stop at his chest though, you definitely went lower.

PS: He fell asleep on his knees once, while he was hugging your legs and his head was on your lap. You clicked a picture and never let that one go.

Zayne

Zayne, pinching his nose bridge, sighing, his eyes closed and head leaning back against the couch. Before he could even register what was happening, he heard around fifty snaps of pictures being taken, going off from the side.

Zayne is just a very sexy man in general but you, as his girlfriend, obviously have weird/endearing pictures of him. Like the time he started gleefully laughing like a child. A giant cat was finally, finally being overly affectionate with him, licking his hands, neck and all over his face.

(Are we jealous? Yes we are!)

Zayne barely ever lets his guard down therefore little moments when he would fall asleep on your lap or just anywhere random in general after being thoroughly exhausted, you would take a picture.

You have definitely forced him into couple photoshoots with you. Asking him to put on cat ears with you, carry plushies on his shoulders, making hearts with your hands, drawing one half of a heart with a red lipstick on your cheek then smushing it against a reluctant Zayne's cheek to form the other half of the heart. That picture was now your lockscreen wallpaper.

Besides that, he had really broad shoulders and an impeccable stature. Not that you wouldn't peck it.

"Mm, can I?" You ask, seductively pulling his shirt open as you reapply your lipstick.

"Isn't this a bit too..."

"Is it a yes or a no?"

"...You can continue."

Now you also had a picture of Zayne flushed red and littered with lipstick marks all over his neck, cheeks, chest, abs, maybe lower. Definitely not because you were jealous of a cat.

Oh and he probably got his revenge as well.

ANTHOLOGY LIST

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace #zayne #rafayel #xavier #fanfiction #crack fic

69 notes · View notes

seancekitsch · 1 year

Text

Indiana Handshake: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson

Warnings: slightest cucking, mama used as a nickname but no mommy kink, threesome, spitroasting, dirty shit, this is like my first time actually actually writing steve i do not count when he pops up as a passing character in eddie shit, like/love confessions, smut with feelings, three best friends exploring each others bodies

“Hey Munson, you ever kiss a girl?”

The question floats in a haze of pot smoke over Steve’s head as the three of you lounge on his basement couch. He was dozing off, completely zoned out listening to the mixtape in the deck, but now he perks up at the question.

“Do I really look that much like someone that doesn’t get any?” he retorts back, sassy and bitter. Steve opens his eyes as you cackle over the sound of the tape deck, Eddie’s response not particularly all that funny but you always get giggly after half a joint.

“No, I asked: Did you ever kiss a GIRL?”

You emphasize the word and suddenly the meaning is clear again. Its like the two of you are in your own little world, like Steve is a fly on the wall. Eddie whistles and Steve shifts on the couch, sitting up from his slouching. You’re perched on the couch, lazily laying your head on your arm on the back of the couch and gazing at them, your free hand rubbing your collarbone. That’s something Steve’s picked up on. You tend to do that when you’re thinking a lot. He wonders what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours right now with your line of questioning. Your other hand on the back of the couch is lazily scratching at Eddie’s scalp, and Eddie is practically leaning into it like a cat.

“Shit, haha,” Eddie laughs, “Why? Are you offering?”

You only shrug noncommittally and mumble a “maybe”, but you smile like the goddamn cheshire cat, like you know more than you let on.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Well have you?”

“No, but that could always change.”

Eddie’s talking like he knows more than he lets on, too. Steve knows when two people are flirting; he knows how this dance goes.

Steve’s neck is starting to get uncomfortable from where he’s turned it to get a full view of what’s going on.

“With who? Anne, the new bartender at the hideout?”

Eddie giggles, and mutters “you’re stupid” under his breath, and grabs your other hand from your collarbone, pulling you until you’re basically fallen into his lap.

“What if I said I was thinkin’ about you, mama?” Eddie’s voice drops, seductive and low.

Steve just stares in awe and slight confusion at the scene beside him. Did they think he was asleep? Should he go? What the fuck could he do now about his crush on you if you were going after Eddie right next to him.

You giggle again, this time a little more subdued and closer to Eddie’s face. You’re completely unashamedly looking at him like you want to tear him apart.

“I’d say you can’t handle me, big guy,” you whisper, and Eddie calls your bluff. He pulls you in hungrily, kissing you with passion Steve’s only seen reserved for Eddie’s guitar. His hands tangle in your hair while he nips at your lips, teasing and biting before delving back in with his tongue. He’s sloppy and ruthless, but fuck if this isn’t turning Steve on.

It’s turning you on too, as far as he can tell. You’ve climbed into Eddie’s lap to straddle him and your hand is now resting on his throat. Fuck. Would you do that to him if he asked really nicely? Would you be that excited to kiss him? He can feel the blood rushing to his cock and absolutely straining his pants. God, it’s fucking embarrassing how hard he’s getting watching Eddie fucking Munson make out with the girl he likes.

You moan against Eddie’s lips, and it cuts through all of the smoky haze like a knife. Fuck this, fuck. Steve can’t take it anymore.

“I’m uh, I’ll leave you two to uh…. this,” not Steve’s best exit, but he still tries to climb up from the couch as smoothly as possible as he turns away. He can get upstairs and shut himself in the bathroom and jerk himself off until the skin on his dick is raw for all he cares. He likes you so fucking much, and he can feel the old Steve basically shouting at him to do something other than this. Part of him wants to make a move, fight Eddie like some kind of macho fuckin animal, maybe even join in, who fucking knows? All he knows is that if he stays here like this he’s gonna see you the way he wants to with someone who isn’t him, and both his dick and his heart can't handle that.

“Wait, Steve,” he hears you plead quietly behind him, and he turns around maybe a little too quickly.

“You don’t, uh, you don’t have to go, dude,” Eddie offers, his voice more husky and choked than before. Your hand is still on his throat. Of course.

“And why not?”

He doesn’t intend to sound annoyed, he’s just so fucking hard and he needs to get out of here ASAP.

“Oh shit! Mama, he really was asleep.”

Okay, now Steve’s annoyance turns to confusion. He looks over to you, and your eyes are fixated on his crotch. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze and all he can think of is you looking up at him like that all wide eyed while your lips are wrapped around his—

“Dude, sit down,” Eddie commands, and Steve complies, albeit uncomfortably in his too tight jeans. He spreads his legs wide to accommodate, bumping his knee into your hip in the process. He thinks for a moment about pulling it away, but doesn’t. He can’t help but notice the look you’ve been giving him the whole time.

“What did you hear?” you ask him, voice ragged like you’re trying to catch your breath still.

“Enough to know you’re going to jump Eddie’s bones in my basement,” Steve retorts, wanting to reach out and touch you too, but his hands are on his legs and trying not to clench into fists.

“Oh,” Eddie butts in, “So you didn’t hear the first part?”

Steve cocks his head to the side.

“You didn’t hear,” Eddie pitches his voice up to do a terrible impression of you, “Oh Eddie, do you think he’d go for me? Do you think he’d care I like you both?”

Eddie twirls a finger in his hair to further make fun of you, and Steve can actually feel your eyes leave him, if only to choke Eddie harder to shut him up. Eddie coughs, and you relent slightly.

“To which I said:” Eddie puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder awkwardly, “If he doesn’t want this hot little body, he definitely likes men more than I do.”

Eddie’s hand feels like a hot iron on Steve’s shoulder, searing and painful but fuck if he doesn’t slightly lean into it. Now, Steve had never really considered men. It was the year of our lord 1988 and two of his best friends were queer, but Steve himself never really though of whether he might be or not. He knows he can appreciate when a man is good looking, and he liked Eddie enough that he even doesn’t mind when they sleep in the same bed and accidentally cuddle. It feels nice in a guy’s arms. He just really never considered the option. Especially since he’s been crushing on you since Eddie introduced the two of you after spring of ‘86. You crowded his mind, took up every thought and every day when he wasn’t actively focused on keeping the teens alive and at school on time.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” Steve says, now connecting the dots and hearing the first part of what Eddie said.

“You like us both? You like… me?”

You only nod, biting your already bruised and bitten bottom lip and smiling at him.

“Dude it was obvious, she practically drools over you. She doesn’t shut up about you in the car.”

You reach out your hand, and gently place it on top of Steve’s, on the leg that’s leaning up against you.

It clicks.

Holy fuck. Is he having some kind of fucked up porno dream? Is he like, asleep and humping his couch having a weird ass wet dream right now?

“Do you ever… think of me?” It’s a loaded question and he knows it.

“Only every night,” you admit, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Do you think about both of us at once?” Eddie chimes in, and the look you give him tells him everything he needs to know. Your eyes go wide like you’re about to yell at him for telling a secret. Eddie throws his head back in laughter, and finally your hand slips off the metal head’s neck. You let a giggle slip past your lips as well, and then finally Steve let’s out a little laugh of his own.

This feels nice, this feels right even though everything tells him it shouldn’t. He likes feeling both of you touching him, he likes how easy this feels so far.

“Can I come kiss you?” You ask, and anyone else would think it was shyness, but Steve knows you better than that.

“Shit, are you gonna kiss me like you kissed Munson?” He asks, but he hopes you kiss him better.

You climb off of Eddie, who as it turns out from just one glance, is just as rock hard as Steve. Eddie’s zipper looks like it might burst he’s so hard.

Steve’s breath hitches as you plant your knees on either side of his thighs. He attempts to close his thighs a little bit, but only stops when it gets uncomfortable. His comfort stops mattering though, when your warm body slots itself over him. You rest yourself right up on his crotch, the weight of you finally the pressure he needs to relieve even a tiny bit of this tension inside him.

“You like me, too?” you ask, and he can tell this is actually two questions: do you reciprocate the feelings? And do you want to actually do this?

“Of course,” Steve answers, and captures your lips in a kiss.

Steve kisses a lot different from Eddie. Steve is slow and careful and strong. He holds you in a vice grip, like one of those men on the cover of a trashy romance novel, like an old Hollywood movie star. He parts his lips gently, working your lips open with gentle nudges and licks, his rhythm steady.

He finally licks into your lips, his tongue reaching for yours. Fuck, the amount of times he’s daydreamed for this specifically, the amount of shifts at Family Video he’s wasted just thinking about making out with you. Of course, he didn't expect Eddie to be here, but he's not upset by it. Not when you moan into Steve’s mouth like a fucking pornstar. Not when your fists are balled up into the material of his sweatshirt and gripping onto him for dear life.

“Fuck, this is hot,” Eddie sighs, and you pause kissing for just enough time to look over. Eddie’s stroking himself through his jeans, lazy drags of the heel of his palm against himself, but Steve feels the way your thighs clench against him at the sight.

“She likes lookin’ at that, Eddie. Keep goin,” Steve mutters, not at all upset that your gaze is turned to his best friend when it gives him perfect access to your neck and collarbone. Fuck, that collarbone. Every time he sees those beautiful fingers of yours go there he just wants to lick it, wants to stake some kind of claim to you with it.

He goes for it straight away, licking and sucking to the skin there, knowing it'll be a dark purple hickey by morning.

“Fuck, Steve,” You moan, and he thinks he’s done dreaming and died and gone to heaven.

He hums against your skin, teasing you again with a bite to your collarbone before his hands slip from your back to your hips.

Slowly, Steve starts moving your hips, rocking you against his lap; that slow drag of friction making both of you gasp. Steve isn’t used to being this reactive. With girls in the past, he’s cool and collected, sex basically being a series of movements that kept someone wanting to date him. He can’t deny the loneliness it’s caused him, but this feels like a whole other beast. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in forever, since he started liking you. Maybe it’s because the noises you’re making are so fucking pretty he’s going insane. Or maybe it’s because he has an audience… or a third party… or whatever this is about to be.

You start rocking your hips of your own accord, setting the pace for Steve; This means he gets to finally grab your ass, something he’s been dreaming of for two years now. Fuck, it feels amazing to finally have you like this on top of him. He cracks an eye open he hadn’t realized he’d shut, and fuck, the sight of you. Your head is thrown back, your throat with already forming splotches on full display, the light from the lamps streaming through your hair. This is better than anything he’d fantasized about.

“You wanna kick this up a notch, mama?” Eddie interrupts, and you grind particularly hard into Steve, making him groan in appreciation.

“What are you suggesting?” you ask, placing your hands on Steve’s shoulders for better leverage to keep grinding on him.

“You or Steve ever participated in an Indiana Handshake?”

You stop moving immediately.

“Ugh, are you fucking serious, Eddie?” you groan, “Are you really calling it that?”

Steve laughs, and pulls you in for a hug, squishing your chest into his face. He fears he’ll crack up too much if he looks at you or Eddie’s face right now.

“What do you want me to call it? Peter, Paul, and Mary? Spitroast? Eiffel Tower? Indianapolis Bus Transfer? Holy Trinity? Sportsman’s Double? Double Meat and—”

“I don’t know? Something romantic?” You cut him off, half exasperated and half laughing. Steve is definitely laughing against you, trying to hide it in your cleavage. Steve can’t help himself, Eddie’s the funniest guy he knows, even when he isn’t trying to be.

“Oh, this is going to be a romantic moment. Why didn’t you tell me earlier, mama?” He responds, voice laced in sarcasm.

“Goddamnit. I know why I like Steve, but now I’m starting to question why I like you, Eddie.”

Steve gives an appreciative thrust of his hips up into you, making you yelp. He sticks out his tongue childishly at Eddie, preening with his own pride. You like him, and he won't ever get tired of hearing you say that.

What Steve doesn’t expect, however, is for Eddie to take the opportunity to lean forward and kiss Steve square on the mouth.

Steve makes a little noise of surprise, and then even to his own shock, melts into the other man’s touch. Eddie’s kiss for Steve is just as sloppy and eager as Eddie’s kiss for you. Equal enthusiasm and passion for both of you. You like Steve and Eddie, so does Eddie like you and Steve? Steve doesn’t have time to dwell on that when you slip off of his lap and let Eddie grab Steve and pull him closer. The other man grabs him by the hip and turns him on the couch until their bodies are flush together. Steve can feel Eddie hot and hard against him, and okay, maybe Steve CAN think about a guy that way. He grabs Eddie back, pushing their hips together harder. Eddie moans, loud and wanton against Steve’s lips.

Wow.

Fuck, Steve didn’t know he could get that much more turned on, let alone by Eddie Munson’s voice.

Steve pulls Eddie in the same way he did you, the other’s slim waist is easy to pull so he can start to grind himself against him the same way he did you. Steve’s hips work slowly, his pace steady and hard. This is how he likes it, usually. When Steve jerks off, he makes a fuckin’ meal of it. When he can, he likes to take his time. He likes to feel absolutely everything. He can tell by the way Eddie’s hips stutter out of rhythm against his that Eddie likes things fast.

Steve wonders, when you touch yourself at night, are you fast or slow? Do you take your time? Do you finger yourself and wonder what his fingers feel like, trying to fill yourself to imagine what he would be like on top of you?

Does Eddie do the same? Does he imagine his own hand is Steve’s?

“Fuck; We forgot someone,” Eddie jokes, lips still smashed against Steve’s own.

Steve looks over to you, half sat on the coffee table in front of them. You've taken your shirt off and you're leaned forward, watching them intently. You smile sheepishly at the two of them and lean away, as if you'd been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

“Don't get shy on us now,” Steve chides, an easy and charming smile on his face. This must be the face the girls that got “King Steve” must have seen. And for good reason: it works.

“Come’ere, mama,” Eddie beckons, grabbing for your arm and pulling you down on top of them, “Lets get a look at this, huh?”

“Do they live up to expectations?” you ask, slightly getting insecure at your lack of clothing. You'd thought it was a smart idea at the time, but now that they're both so much more dressed than you, you're second guessing.

However, instead of answering, Eddie smiles like he’s got a secret and Steve turns as red as a tomato.

“What?”

“Gotta admit, last time we were over here… the hot tub…” Eddie trails off, burying his face in Steve’s neck so he doesn't have to finish his sentence.

“Oh god,” you realize, “Did you spy on me while I was changing?”

“Guilty,” Eddie mumbles against Steve’s skin.

Steve refuses to look anywhere but your black bra.

“Steve?”

“No comment,” he whispers, bringing you back to his face so he can kiss you again.

It was two weeks ago, and Steve had invited everyone of drinking age over to go in the hot tub and use the metal fire pit as he had just closed his pool for the season. Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, and Argyle were all unavailable, claiming anything from work to an impromptu high roadtrip. Only you and Eddie had stumbled through his door with a bottle of cheap wine for each of you and a bag full of your bathing suits.

Steve hadn't meant to be such a peeping tom. It's just, you changed in front of the big window in his room with the lights on and the blinds open at night. At first, he wanted to rush into the house to protect your modesty. His neighbor’s creepy husband who had made more than enough comments to Robin would be able to see you if he was home. But then he was paralyzed when your top came off. Yes, he’s seen you in a bathing suit tons of times, but a bra is different, more intimate. He was panicked, because if Eddie saw him he’d never live it down. He watched the whole time you changed, his head whipping around to the neighbors house every ten seconds just in case. He got more than an eyeful.

This kiss is hungrier, and Steve’s hands have more skin to roam. He runs his big warm hand down your spine, then back up.

“Watch this,” Steve pulls away from the kiss and whispers, more to Eddie than you, and his hand on your back moves to your bra strap.

He puts two fingers, from what you can feel it's his index and his thumb, on either side of your bra clasp, and snaps. Your bra comes apart, as if his snap was some kind of magic trick. Steve slams his lips back on yours, letting the straps of your bra fall limply down your shoulders.

“Holy shit, is that the move you used in high school?” Eddie asks, and Steve only grunts against your mouth in response.

“Makes sense you got more than me.”

Eddie hands join Steve’s, one of them pulling your bra by the strap further down and hastily removing it, the other hand going straight to your ass.

Eddies hands move quickly, all of his moves feeling like he’s running out of time. And for Eddie, he always has been. Eddie, never the most desired, never the popular or wanted until extremely recently. He’s twenty two and this is the first time someone said they like him instead of just his body. He has to grasp onto this and hold on as long as he is allowed to. His hands are strong, just as strong as Steve’s hands, but calloused and his fingers move so much faster. You could never deny the way you'd openly swoon when he practiced guitar in front of you, you just always assumed he was only into men.

He was your best friend, and you weren't supposed to think of him that way. But fuck, when he showed up to your house with bruises on his wrists or hickeys on his neck? Oh, the fucking jealousy that ran cold through your veins. You always wanted to be on the receiving end of his hands and of his lips.

Steve entering the picture changed things, though.When Eddie introduced the two of you he threw the biggest monkey wrench in your world he ever could have. You had graduated with Steve, and were never on his radar. You probably didn’t want to be back then.You didn’t even understand how they were friends. How did the King of Hawkins suddenly become such close friends with a guy recently cleared of murder charges that hadn’t even graduated high school yet?

Steve charmed you almost instantly. He wasn’t the douche you and Eddie had grown up thinking he was. He was sweet, and funny, and so fucking thoughtful it hurt. You couldn’t help but fall for him. His looks didn’t hurt either. He was known for his basketball prowess, but his body showed his time as swim captain from high school.

Eddie pulls you from your thoughts by yanking you up closer in between them by the hand thats on your ass. Your mouth disconnects from Steve just long enough for Eddie to steal you, letting Steve pull your bra the rest of the way off of you and reattach his lips to your neck.

One of each of their hands immediately flies to your chest, each of them grabbing a breast. You can practically feel them sigh in relief at the contact, like they’d built up this moment for themselves in their minds and they finally got what they wanted. Eddie’s calloused hands feel abrasive, but fuck would you want that all over. Steve’s hand is so much warmer and calmer, his groping not about time but about space, wanting to feel everything he can and covering as much area as possible. His large hands palm and massage you, where Eddie moves to pinch at your nipple.

Both of them have you moaning and practically whining into Eddie’s mouth, and you need need need more of them everywhere.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you rip yourself away from Eddie. His lips chase yours, needy and wanting to keep kissing like this. Steve’s forehead bumps into your jaw but neither of you mind it.

“One of you strip, or something- fuck, I dont know,” You start rambling, “Do something!”

“You heard our girl,” Steve nudges Eddie and pulls you off of him, securing you in his own lap, “Strip for her.”

There’s a mischievous smile on Steve’s face as he positions you in his lap, making sure you can feel him on your ass as he rests his hands on your hips. Eddie stands up begrudgingly, hands already moving to remove his vest. It’s a new one, one that replaced the one lost in 86. Eddie still won’t tell you what happened to it, but either way you were happy for another craft project. You even sewed one of your own patches on there so he would ‘have a little piece of you’ when you weren’t around. The vest falls to the floor with a thud, the heavy denim and metal accents weighing it down. As Eddie moves to his shirt (actually one of Steve’s rare black clothing items that he let him borrow one day), Steve’s hands travel to the button and fly of your pants.

He works quickly to give his hands more access.

“You like what you see, mama?” Eddie teases, twirling his shirt in his hand and playfully whipping it at you like a showgirl would do.

You nod and giggle at him, and fuck if that isn’t Eddie’s favorite sound in the world. He loves what he sees right now, you on big strong Steve’s lap, already looking so desperate and needy, your eyes laser focused on him while Steve’s hand works it’s way into your pants.

Your eyes are glassy and wide, but your lip quivers desperately to hold back a moan. Steve’s got one of his hands firmly on your chest, holding you back against him. The other is in your pants, and from what Eddie can tell, in your panties and warming you up to take his fingers. Steve’s wrist is moving in clockwise circles, clear as day that his middle finger is teasing your clit. Your bare chest is heaving trying to hold yourself back so you can pay attention to him.

Eddie never expected to want a girl’s touch, let alone to have feelings for a girl. But you wormed your way into his heart, and took him by storm. How could you not? Its the classic story of childhood best friends, in those cheesy rom-coms where boys and girls can't be friends. He guesses maybe in some weird way this is just like that too. But how could Eddie not want you when you're the hottest girl (the only one he’s ever found himself attracted to) and the perfect mirror of himself? Eddie isn't religious but he knows he’s blessed to have a hot ass best friend who helps him write campaigns and plays music with him. Blessed to have a best friend who has always been in his corner fighting tooth and nail for him no matter what, a hot ass best friend that does not give a shit about either of their broken parts and tries to jam them together like a fucked up puzzle to make both of them better (and if not better than at least happier).

Eddie is less than a showman removing his socks and pants, more or less fumbling out of them like it's his first time again. He stands there panting in front of you and Steve in just his briefs, painfully hard and desperately wanting both of you to pounce on him and just take him right here. He likes that neither of you mind his scarring. Steve has his own, and you respect his secrets about how he got them. He’s fucked with a shirt on the past two years, but when he gets to have hot tub nights, and now, he gets to show himself. He’s always liked his body, always thought if people looked past his personality and reputation they could find him hot. You and presumably Steve are into both, so he puffs his chest out in pride when he undresses for you.

“Fucking handsome,” you say, even though you’ve seen most of this before. Steve takes this opportunity to tilt his hand and dip a finger into you, and you end up punctuating your sentence with a loud moan. Steve’s hand moves only with purpose, his timing impeccable for earring moans out of you like the beat of a drum; he works your body like he was made for it. Steve’s fingers thrust just slightly off beat with the music that’s playing, just at the same rate you can manage to roll your hips and reciprocate. It’s sinful, the way you ride his fingers.

Eddie pulls down his briefs, once off his ankles flinging them towards an empty fish tank. In Steve’s more hopeful youth, he might have had an aquarium; now it was just set decoration for whatever happens in a basement. Eddie’s cock bouces as he straightens back up to his full height, and he can’t help but feel pride at the fact that you bite down on your lip like you want to rip it off in response.

Your hand reaches out and grabs him the second he’s within arms length, giving him a curious pump of his length. Eddie thrusts into your hand, his head falling back on his shoulders, his hair going everywhere.

Steve hooks his finger inside of you, and you yelp pitifully.

Eddie escapes your grasp, not permanently but just to sit down, plopping down on the couch next to the two of you. The pout on your face when he gently uncurls your fingers is one he’s going to remember for the next time he jerks off. Eddie’s legs splay open on the couch, his dark curly leg hair a wild contrast from his milky white skin.

Your hand finds him again almost immediately, stroking up and down his length in earnest. Eddie’s dick is larger than you expected, you muse to yourself as your fingers squeeze his length at the base.

Not that you expected him to be small, but you’ve seen him in various states of undress and tight pants since the age of twelve. You think from that you’d know what your best friend is packing.

Not that you had been looking, no. Never. You’d never watched him stretch his back and let the thin tee shirt ride up his stomach while his pajama pants rest dangerously low on those hips of his. You'd never tried to watch him from the peripherals of your vision when you go swimming in the lake- or more recently- in Steve’s pool or hot tub.

You try to stroke him in time with Steve’s fingers, fingers traveling to the head of his cock as Steve’s fingers go deeper inside of you, slowing when Steve slows, picking up the pace when Steve does. Eddie’s eyes are screwed shut, trying so hard not to thrust wildly into your hand. All he wants right now is to fuck your fist, or even better, to split you open right there on Steve’s lap before going for Steve next.

You whine, and pout as Steve removes his hand from your pants without warning, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder before patting both of your hips like a dad.

“Babe, you wanna go sit with Eddie for me?” he mumbles in your ear, and now your pout is morphing into a sly little smile. You nod your head and Eddie thinks he’s going to fucking die at this point. Instead of sitting with him, you sit in front of him, sinking to your knees with the sweetest and most innocent smile he’s ever seen you have.

“Can I kiss it?” you ask, feigning coyness with that beautiful little smile. This little good girl, this fucking innocent act is doing so much for him right now. God how Eddie loves a manly man, but this sweet girl act? He’s a fucking goner, especially because its coming from his brash best friend whos unafraid to make fun of him or yell at him when he fucks up.

“Fuck,” he swears, running his hand down his face, “Please do, mama.”

Thats all the incentive you need to scoot yourself forward until you're kneeled between his feet. You reach your hand out again, but this time your lips join it. You grip the base of his dick firmly, holding him in place and perfectly positioned for you to massage right where his balls meet his shaft. You lick your lips, eyes never leaving his gaze, before pressing the sweetest little kiss to the head of his cock. Holy fuck. You kiss it again, your lips so soft and gently and velvety against his skin and he has to physically hold himself back from grabbing you and pushing your head down on his cock. He would never do that to you, unless you asked. You stick your tongue out, a testing lick to the underside of his head, and he tries to bite back a groan and fails.

Steve moves himself from the couch, standing to strip as your head finally descends on Eddie’s cock. You look fucking beautiful, your hair falling down your bare back as your head bobs up and down in Eddie’s lap. Eddie looks beautiful too, his head thrown back and his pale throat on display for Steve to want to bite into it. Steve’s eyes travel down Eddie’s form as he undoes his jeans, tracing over the scarring and tattoos that litter his chest.

Steve makes quick work of his jeans, pushing them down his muscular thighs and kicking them down the rest of the way. It's not by any means Steve’s sexiest move, but you and Eddie have definitely seen him at some of his worst and clumsiest moments, so he doesn't worry. No, hes more focused on the heaving of Eddie’s flushed chest, on the curve of your spine, and on the slick noises of your face fucking Eddie’s cock, the slight choking and sputtering and the sound of his tip hitting the back of your throat every so often.

Steve sheds his shirt just as quickly, having basically practiced for this moment every time he had to whip off his shirt in the locker rooms. Steve was an expert at the quick removal, he just didn't know he was practicing for this moment in particular. He feels like everything has led him here to you two. Every habit and every decision led him to meeting Eddie, and then you, and then to the nights where he would stay up late thinking of you all over him and even once thinking of you fucking Eddie while he watched. Steve had written that off as some weird half drunk mind trick, but now he sees it was more; he just didn't know.

Eddie cracks an eye open, having squeezed them shut when you started hollowing out your cheeks around your shaft and tried his hardest to not blow his load right then and there. When he gets a peek of Steve, his eyes shoot open, wide eyed and shameless in his staring. Steve is a tighty-whiteys guy, and for some reason thats so fucking hot to Eddie. He figures it's the same way Brad Majors is the one Eddie had a crush on when he first watched Rocky Horror. He was so into that nice all- American boy look in that movie, which felt so wrong because all of the random men he’s hooked up with- and Gareth at Gareth’s graduation party- did not sport that look at all. But maybe, subconsciously, his mind knew he would want someone like Steve somewhere down the line.

“Fuck,” you sigh, coming up for air from where you had been bobbing up and down on Eddie, your nose feeling a little raw from where it had been brushing against his trimmed pubic hair.

“Jesus, you're amazing,” Eddie praises, his hand affectionately cupping your cheek.

“Thats not my name,” you tease, and both of your boys laugh.

“Shut the fuck-” Eddie says, and then cuts himself off, staring past you. You turn your head to look at Steve, and you totally get why Eddie is so quiet now.

Steve is hung. Like, Hung hung. Both of you probably look ridiculous staring at him right now, with his eyes so wide and your mouth hanging open like a trout.

Steve is so much thicker than you expected. You had an idea of his size from the way his pants were always tight in the best way, but you had not prepared yourself for this. He had both length and girth on his side. There’s no wonder now why when Steve started hooking up in school, he immediately earned himself a reputation. There are no doubts in your mind.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“Yep,” You try to force out, but it comes from your lips sounding more like a squeak than anything else.

“Had I known you look like this, I would not have skipped gym so much,” Eddie jokes, his voice shaking slightly.

“Okay guys, shut up,” Steve deadpans, doing that disapproving thing where he puts his hands on his hips, “I’m starting to get out of shape. Its not that great.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” You say as you stand up, quickly noticing you're the only one still partially dressed. You hook your fingers into your pants and panties, pulling both down at once and stepping out of them daintily as they come to your ankles. Steve takes the opportunity to playfully slap your ass the second you bend down. You jump at the contact and Eddie cracks up from his spot on the couch.

There's a bit of a pause at this point, an unsureness of what's to come. Well, you all know what's to come, but you're not sure of how. You all stare at one another, feeling their eyes rake up and down your body, your eyes darting between them.

“So, uh,” Steve starts, now feeling the creeping of a blush bloom up his cheeks, “So how do we do… this?”

Eddie looks at Steve, and then to you.

“Well, I think she’s going to have the most, uh, activity,” He stresses that word, and you sort of just now realize what exactly you signed up for, “So I think she should decide.”

You hear Steve mumble a ‘yeah, okay, that makes sense’ as he comes to crouch down behind you, pressing the sweetest kiss to the top of your head as his big warm hands brace themselves on your shoulder.

Your brain goes a little fuzzy for a moment. Depending on what you say, will they think you like one of them more than the other? Will they get offended? You realize in that moment just how much power you have over them. They’re letting you control this entire new situation, new waters for all of you.

“I think…” you trail off, looking between the two of them.

It’s like Steve can see the gears working in your head.

“You know what?” he asks, quick saving you like he’s done thousands of times in the past two years, “What if we get you a little more warmed up?”

You nod eagerly, leaning back into his hold on you, loving the feeling of his warm hands on your skin. You can do that. Eddie perks up at this too.

“May I make a request?” he asks, leaning forward to stroke his thumb against your cheek. You nod against his hand, because honestly you'd let him do anything if he keeps looking at you like this.

His eyes briefly leave yours to look at Steve, smiling widely at the other man.

“Can I watch him eat you out?”

You can feel Steve jolt in excitement behind you.

“Yeah,” you sigh out, knocked breathless by his request. Fuck, the amount of times you’d thought of Steve’s mouth all over you, the ways you imagine he could make you come apart on his tongue.

“How do you want us?” you ask, following up with more confidence at the thought of one of your fantasies coming true.

Eddie turns even redder than he was before, if that was even possible. The scarring on his chest and neck is even more noticeable now, the white tissue stark against his wild blushing. You know his skin would feel hot to the touch right now.

“Jesus Christ, mama, you can't just ask me shit like that. Not when you look like that,” Eddie wipes a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Sit on my face,” Steve interjects. When you turn to look at him, there’s something dark and wild in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. His pupils are blown wide and his brow is furrowed in concentration, his lips plump and open.

“Holy shit, okay,” you breathe out, light laughter in your tone. You stand up to your full height in front of Eddie and gesture for him to get off the couch. He jumps up, revealing a tattoo on his pale white ass.

“What the fuck is that?” Steve gapes, laughing and pointing at the ink.

“What?” Eddie smacks his own ass, right over the tattoo, “Doesn’t everyone have a pot leaf on their ass?”

“No!” Steve shouts, getting up to take his place on the couch, and showing off his muscular, not tattooed butt.

Eddie cracks up, taking the opportunity to pinch Steve’s ass before he lays down on the couch, making sure his head is on a cushion and not the arm rest so you can take your rightful seat.

“Steve, before you you dine…” Eddie falters, as if nervous, “Can I possibly ask to get a taste?”

“Of you?” Eddie adds, just to be clear.

“Oh!” Steve sounds surprised, “Oh uh— yeah, please, of course.”

Steve straightens out his legs, one of his calves now hanging off the arm rest on the other side of the couch and the other half off the cushion so he could get leverage with his bare foot on the floor.

You're standing awkwardly, your first bit of apprehension in all of this. You're not awkward in your nakedness or the way you've been staring at both of these men the whole time. There's no shame in that.

“Whenever you’re ready, Y/n,” Steve says, not impatiently. He’s still looking at you just as intensely, with his eyes mapping your body, darting around like they're trying to memorize every detail.

“Okay,” you say, shakily, still hesitating.

Eddie notices the shift in your confidence and basically jumps to you, his arm coming around you to reassure you.

“Hey, whats going on in that pretty head of yours?” He asks, and Steve pushes himself up to lean up on his elbows, ready to push himself up to let you on the couch if you want a break.

“No ones ever, uh, done that to me before,” you say, feeling suddenly shy.

“No one? The prettiest girl in all of Indiana and no ones ever gone down on you?” Eddie gasps. He and Steve don't even try to hide their surprise, with Steve’s jaw hanging down as he tries to process the information. They know you've had boyfriends before, some of which you seemed to be really into but apparently were not satisfying you the way they would.

You shake your head, but Eddie got you smiling again at his compliment.

“Climb up here right now,” Steve orders, flopping onto his back again and patting his cheeks with his open palms.

You laugh, and with your renewed confidence you make your way over to the couch, to Steve. You bend over to face Steve, hair spilling over your shoulders and framing you like a curtain. Steve thinks it's incredibly cute how the ends lightly brush his face.

“So how do you want me, big boy?” you whisper, mirth in your eyes.

“Why do you both call me that?”

Your eyes dart down to his waist, and then back to his eyes.

“Well… we were right,” you joke, and both of you chuckle.

“Want you to watch Eddie,” he whispers, and he can swear your eyes light up at the thought. You nod quickly, eagerly, and stand back up. Eddie sits on the arm of the couch, his painted nails gently raking their way up and down Steve’s thighs.You rest one knee on the side of the couch next to his head, your other leg coming up so you and swing it over to the far side of the couch to place on the other side of Steve’s head. You hear him sigh contentedly as he watches you get settled above him.

“Ready?” you ask once you're in position.

“Fuckin’ born ready,” Steve sighs, and you slowly lower yourself onto him, leaning forward slightly and resting your hands on your thighs to give him the best access possible.

Its fucking heaven when Steve’s mouth hits your core. His plump lips move easily against your folds, his tongue deftly parting them. He wastes no time in thrusting his tongue inside of you, swirling it around inside of you without any hesitation. His tongue works inside you like a screw, swirling, pistoning, swirling, pistoning ever more trying to pull something out of you.

You're already a wreck on top of him, your clit pressed against his chin, when Eddie sinks his lips down on Steve’s cock. Steve moans loudly, sending vibrations up your abdomen from the epicenter of your cunt. Eddie immediately tries to push himself as far as possible down Steve’s cock, his throat opening up to the point where only about a half inch needs Eddie’s hand to cover and make up for it.

“Oh my fucking god, Steve,” You moan out, choked and half sobbing. You've ever felt pleasure this intense, never. He’s the olympic champion of making you feel like you're on top of the world, from the simplest of compliments to being the first person about to make you come from just their tongue. He fucks you earnestly with his tongue, as deep as he can and actively pressing his tongue against your g-spot, relentless but full of affection at the same time. Eddie does not let up his pace, bobbing up and down on Steve’s length, taking it all like a champ, the sound of his throat choking him spurring you on in your race to an orgasm.

“Fuck, please,” You beg, and you can swear you hear Steve say something, but he doesnt let up from his onslaught of his tongue so all you feel is the vibration of his voice against your core. His hands push your hips slightly, tilting the angle so he can focus on your clit. He attacks the swollen bud with fervor, licking and sucking as you clench your thighs around his head.

“Fuck, she likes that,” Eddie remarks, having taken his mouth off of Steve momentarily. You moan appreciatively, and then roll your hips against Steve’s mouth in desperation. Steve doesn't leave you hanging; he would never be the type. He doesn't let up, he feels the way you’re clenching, feels the way your cunt is squeezing around his tongue. Steve only works harder to push his tongue further onto your clit, to move it around more, he does everything he can to do better than any vibrator you might have. You start shaking, nor gripping his hips with the effect of leaving a series of crescent moons on his hips.

“Fuck,” You try to say, but it comes out more like a high pitched moan.

Steve takes your clit between his plump lips, and sucks, his teeth grazing the nerves.

You scream as you see stars, trying to pull yourself away from Steve’s grasp as you come, but his strong hands keep you in place. He keeps licking at you as you come, lapping up your arousal as he slowly lets you come down to earth.

It's around this time that you notice Eddie has stopped sucking Steve’s cock, instead focusing on the way you shake and yell for the other man.

The moment your thighs stop shaking, Steve slides himself out from under you and tries to envelop you into a hug. Eddie lets himself fall to the side, letting Steve wrap you up as you fall like jello in his arms. You sob and shake and fuck does Eddie want to experience it for himself.

“Holy shit,” You sob into Steve’s arms, and his big biceps hold you tight. He holds you as your shakes subside and your muscles relax against him. Eddie stares up at you in awe, not unlike the time you drove him out to see Dio in Chicago. He's gaping and wide eyed in awe, but there's a hunger in his eyes that wasn't there before.

Eddie watches the two of you hug while you come down, before grabbing Steve in a kiss. Eddie licks into Steve’s mouth quickly, and then pulls back to you.

“Needed a taste of you too, mama,” He admits, smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“Now,” Eddie turns to you, interrupting his own question with a kiss to your lips, “How do you want this to go?”

With the agency in your hands, you freeze for a second. Steve can feel you tense in his arms and he too freezes for a moment, worried you’re tapping out after that.

“I think maybe you,” You point at Eddie, “I want you first.”

You pause, and then turn to Steve with his arms around you, somehow you feel embarrassed. You feel embarrassed to face him after you've come.

“And then you to finish?” You ask, and Steve acts like you've given him the keys to the entire world. Steve’s knees buckle, while Eddie grabs you and twirls you in a circle like the most excited man in the world.

“It’s like you read my mind, been fuckin waiting for this,” Eddie sighs, bending you over the side of the couches of the basement. You didn't, you know you didn't. This was a deepcut- fantasy for him and you fuckin knew it because he preferred men. But to know he wanted you specifically, you only, was something of note.

“You come here often?” You flirtily joke as you raise your ass in the air, on your worst behavior for your best friend.

“I’m about to,” he replies just as playfully, and he ruts his hips against your ass teasingly.

“Fuck me, Eddie,” You ask, and that all he needs. Eddie presses slowly into your cunt, savoring every inch as it happens. He lets you feel all of it, splitting you open while he painstakingly slowly pushes his whole length in. He presses in again at the same rate, glacially slow. He takes every inch like a millimeter. And then he thrusts in quickly, dispelling any doubt that he wanted you, pressing himself back into you at a breakneck speed.

“I saved this all for you,” he admits, and thrusts himself fully inside of you. Its a stretch the fingers and the face sitting could not have prepared you for. Its distinctively Eddie, his thrusts full of that energy and love that all of his actions are. He thrusts into you quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, he thrusts like he is making love, pushing against and away and against and away with heart. Behind you he kisses and kisses and kisses, pressing endless kisses to your spine.

You press a kiss into the air to beckon Eddie closer, afraid that if you try to say anything you'll lose your composure too much.He responds by leaning fully over you to reach your mouth, and kisses you sloppily.

You feel the couch cushion dip in front of you, and you know Steve is getting onto the couch as well. You pull away from Eddie to turn to Steve, who is kneeling on the couch watching Eddie thrusting into you with the most serious concentration.

Eddie thrusts particularly hard, forcing a particularly loud moan from your lips. Steve wraps his long fingers around his cock again, his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hey, mama?” Eddie asks, “Wanna make Steve feel as good as I do right now?”

You nod fervently, worried that anything you try to say will come out as a strangled moan and worried that if you take either of your hands from where they are planted on the cushion you'll lose your balance.You look at Steve, from his cock to his eyes, asking for permission. Instead of saying anything, he leans up so he’s completely on his knees now, his cock dangling in your face. You look into his eyes, a sly smile on your face, before you stick out your tongue to lick his tip.

Immediately, Steve is moaning and tipping his head back, incredibly reactive to you.

“Been that fuckin’ long for you, big boy? Did I suck or something?” Eddie jokes, not slowing his pace at all.

“No!” Steve asserts, but then adds, “I mean… I haven't felt her. Been thinking about her longer than you.”

The way they keep talking about you has your heart absolutely soaring and your cunt clenching. They talk about you like you hang the moon and stars, with so much care and consideration for your comfort in all of this. But then they pull out lines like that, talking about how they've wanted this.

You decide to give them even more to talk about, the next time Eddie thrusts you forward you part your lips and take the head of Steve’s cock between them, swirling your tongue around the very tip. You make a show of pulling him deeper inside of your mouth timed to Eddie’s thrusts. You moan around Steve’s cock, and your eyes roll back. You can feel Eddie picking up his pace, and you don’t know if you can hold out much longer until your next climax.

“S’like you’re made for taking our cocks,” Eddie groans, “Our good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan even louder than before, feeling your nails dig into the cool pleather of the couch and you arch your back further into Eddie’s hips.

“Oh she liked that, you feel that Munson?” Steve asks, not at all ignoring the way your moans sent vibrations up his cock.

“Feel that? Fuck, she practically ripped my cock off how hard she’s squeezing me, Handsome.”

The way they talk about you like you aren’t even there has you wanting to put on eve more of a show for both of your men. You spread your legs even further, pushing your ass closer to Eddie, allowing every thrust to go that much deeper: his balls slap against you on particularly hard thrusts, your ass muscles bouncing against his hip bones sure to bruise. You hollow out your cheeks intently, trying to make your mouth as tight you can to take Steve, as long and thick as he is.

You swirl your tongue as best you can around his length, trying to move against him and in equal tandem against both of them.

Steve groans, losing all composure to take things by your pace, thrusting his hips forward. Immediately, he tries to apologize; but you moan again, seeming to love every moment of this.

And you fucking do, you fucking love it so much. You’d only daydreamed your way through a few community college lectures thinking about Steve’s cock in your mouth so casually. You’d really thought about this moment for a few months, tried to imagine exactly what he would feel like, but nothing could have actually prepared you for how nice this feels. Your lips feel lips they were made to be around his cock and your ears so finely tuned to the cute little noises Steve makes. Steve is vocal, if anything, during sex. You’ve learned that he has a different noise for everything he feels pleasurable. The noise he made when your tongue first touched his cock is so different from the noise he made when you added your lips and so different from now with him pretty much fully fucking your face. You relax your throat as much as possible, focus on being open in every way you can. Eddie struggles behind you, his pace faltering as hes groaning that you’re tight as shit. You can feel him start to waver and get lost as he fucks you. You're gleeful you can make your best friend feel this good; you'd spent countless nights thinking about him too, how if you ever got this chance you'd fuck him better than a pornstar.

You release Steve from your mouth with a pop and turn your head as much as you can.

“Come on, Eds, I’m on the pill, please,” You beg, needing to feel him absolutely lose it. You want him to come, need him to come.

“You’re sure?” He groans, but his tone sounds like someone jump scared him in a haunted house.

“Deadly, babe,” You call back, only to wrap your lips back around Steve’s cock instead of waiting for an answer.

Fuck, how are you even real? Eddie thinks. Its like you just handed him the keys to the fucking castle.

You push yourself deep on Steve’s cock, your tongue massaging the vein on the underside and milking another loud moan from his lips. Eddie's hips stutter again, and you try to arch your back even harder. His left hand comes off of your hips to land a smack on your ass that startles you. You jerk under him, involuntarily squeezing him even more than you were.

“Fuck,” Eddie shouts, and his hips still. He comes with a sigh, hot spurts painting your insides as he holds you in a grip harsh enough to bruise. Holy shit does it feel amazing, white hot from the inside, you feel like you'll burn. Steve makes eye contact with you, and smiles, openmouthed and lazy through his panting. Eddie pulls out of you slowly, hissing at his sensitivity and a little whisper of ‘fuck’.

“Hey, Can you vacate her mouth for a moment?” you hear Eddie ask Steve, and he complies, winking at you before he slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth. He leans back to sit, legs folded beneath him. Your arms feel weak now that you can finally focus on them, the muscles strained from holding your position on the couch. Before you can move, Eddie’s fingers are back inside of you, meeting absolutely no resistance with your shared mess. He thrusts twice, giving you just enough to whine, high pitched and embarrassing. Then he pulls his hand away, only to bring that hand up to your mouth.

“Hey, mama, you want to clean these for me?” Eddie holds out the two fingers that were just inside of you, his come dripping off of them. The sight is obscene, degrading, all kinds of perverted.

“Why can't Steve clean them?” you ask, deciding to test Eddie’s patience. Is he the kind of guy who would punish you for acting bratty? He might be, seeing as he’s definitely the type that did shit in your friendship to establish that kind of dominance.

Eddie laughs, and his eyebrows arch up until they get lost in his bangs.

“I dunno, sweetheart, maybe because he isn’t the one that made such a mess?”

Eddie has a point, you concede, and Steve laughs too.

But that laughter quickly dies down when you wrap your lips around Eddie’s fingers and make a show of licking his fingers clean, especially the way you hollow out your cheeks and swallow.

Eddie is warm and salty on your tongue.

This is the first time you’ve enjoyed this taste. In the past with your old boyfriends it was always to satisfy them, to keep them from complaining. If spitters are quitters… that explains why you quit all of those relationships. With Eddie, it’s different. Your first thought is not disgust, rather how you just want more. More of Eddie, more of Steve, more of them and anything they want to give you.

That’s why you happily swallow around his fingers, smiling as you lick his fingers completely clean.

Eddie’s already half hard again before his fingers even leave your lips with a soft pop.

“Fuck, Steve, she’s gonna rock your world,” Eddie moans out. Steve is lazily stroking himself, just sitting back and enjoying the scene.

“She already is, man,” he mumbles back, watching your every move. You finally get off your hands and knees, giving your arms a much needed break.

“Fuck,” you hiss, immediately feeling the rest of yours and Eddie’s mess spill out of you, “The couch.”

Eddie grabs you in his arms to pull you to stand, the last remaining dripping down your thighs.

“Who cares about the couch?” Steve asks, immediately reaching for an old blanket and throwing it over the spot you were just sitting in. He should care, it’s his couch, but it’s the last thing he cares about right now. All he wants is you below him making all those pretty noises you just made for Eddie. Wants to bury himself inside you and never leave.

Steve himself stands then, and comes up behind you to kiss your neck. He pushes stray hair from your shoulder and his kisses get sloppier, open mouthed and possessive. He presses his hips against your ass desperate to feel you on him again. Eddie kisses your lips hungrily, capturing your bruised bottom lip between his own. It doesn't bother him at all that he can taste himself on your mouth, fuck, he’d taste a thousand loads on your mouth if it meant you kept wanting to kiss him.

You pull away from him gently, breathless and eyelashes fluttering, looking like a goddess. A warrior babe straight off the illustrations of an album cover. Holy shit, its crazy to think about how everyone thought you were dating in high school. If only they could see you now.

You smile at Eddie like he hangs the moon in the sky, so wide and bright and blissful. Then you turn to Steve.

“Can I have you now?” you ask, and your tone is so fucking shy and innocent like his cock wasnt just in your mouth, like you didnt suck him off while Eddie railed you from behind. Goddamn, you’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“You’ve got me,” Steve says, tone soft and full of affection. Steve’s hand comes up to cup your cheek and turn you towards him for a kiss. Steve tastes Eddie on you too, but finds himself liking the taste on your tongue. A hint of salt like the ocean waves he tasted once when he was still on top of the world.

Steve turns you gently in his arms, until the backs of your knees hit the couch. He guides you down until your bare back hits the cool fabric, and then gets on one knee. The look in his eyes is intense, pupils blown wide with lust and his hair disheveled from pulling on it. He looks like a Greek hero coming home victorious from war.

He pulls your legs up, pressing a kiss to each knee, before moving them so your heels rested on the couch.

“Lay down?” He asks, so sweetly.

“Oh, Harrington’s into missionary!” Eddie teases, and Steve’s face goes bright red. He snaps his head towards Eddie, and you can only imagine the look he’s giving him right now.

“Hey, it’s romantic! I don’t know? I’ve never done it,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Next time,” you offer, “We’ll fuck you missionary. Turn on the romance for ya.”

Next time, they both think, there’s going to be a next time.

You maneuver yourself to lay down on your back, your head resting comfortably on the arm rest with your hair pulled back and out of the way, one of your legs sliding off the couch and resting with your foot on the floor. You turn your head to the side and look at your guys. Your guys who are flirtily touching one another, soft brushes of their hands and bumps of their hips as they talk and wait for you to situate yourself. Eddie is unabashed with his flirting, all teasing and smirking; Steve is more shy, more deliberate at testing the waters.

“Go get her, big boy,” Eddie urges, finally noticing you’re ready. Steve stands up again, only to sink his knee down on the couch between your legs, the cool pleather now warm from all of the activity. He watches as your eyes bounce from his, to his cock, and back up again.

“We can go slow, okay?” he asks, assuming your apprehension; Many times girls have told him he doesn’t fit, that they have to move at a glacial pace, that it’s just too much.

“If that’s what you want,” you retort, hand coming up to your collarbone.

“Well I— I don’t want to hurt you,” he asserts, absolutely not wanting to be too eager and ruin his chances with you.

“You won’t hurt me. I can handle roughness,” you reassure him, bumping your thigh against his hip affectionately, “I mean, did you not see what Eds was doing to me back there?”

You laugh, throwing your head back at patting Eddie’s thigh. Eddie, who’s now fully hard again and standing at the armrest close to your face.

Steve did see what Eddie did to you, saw every second he wasn’t staring into your eyes trying not to blow his load right then and there. Saw how every of snap of the metalhead’s hips pushed your mouth further down around his cock, saw how his pace had your moans so trapped in your throat they almost sounded like a squeak. You can handle rough.

“Can you settle for something in-between?” Steve asks. He’s a romantic at heart. He fucks, but he doesn’t want to just fuck. He loves when it means something, when he can hold and hug and kiss his partner’s skin. He loves when it could be love. He’s only seen it twice, in little glimmers; wants more of it like a drug.

You nod, a small smile crossing your features. Steve’s come to realize this is a smile you only give to him and Eddie. He should have seen all of this coming from miles away. His eyes rake up and down your body one last time, before raising an eyebrow to ask: is this okay? Are you ready?

You only respond by putting a hand on his cheek, telling him everything he needs to know.

Eddie grabs your other hand, pressing sloppy kisses to your knuckles, letting Steve push himself further between your thighs, letting his cock brush up against you.

You gasp the moment you feel him, ready for everything he will give you. Steve is so different from Eddie, and together they’re like your two favorite ice cream flavors swirled together. Steve rocks his hips against you, letting his cock catch against your cunt as he moves. His spread his legs, pushing your thighs even further apart, and then slowly starts to push in.

Immediately you moan, the stretch burning in such an amazing way. Steve is certainly the biggest you’ve ever taken. He pushes in slowly, just as slow as Eddie just did, easing you onto him. Whereas Eddie was fast and agile in his movements, Steve’s are slow and heavy. You don’t mean to keep comparing the two, as neither of them would be a clear winner in the competition. You’ll be damned happily if they would allow you to continue to be greedy for them both.

Eddie goes from kissing your hand to placing it on his cock, of course, and without even a second thought you start to stroke him again, wrist loose and moving quickly up and down his shaft.

Steve slows to a stop when he bottoms out in you, honestly surprised you could take all of him. He felt you on his fingers, and it was clear Eddie was going to be a little bit of a stretch to you. How he fits, he doesnt know, but fuck if it doesnt feel like your body was meant for him. This feels better than literally any fantasy he could have imagined.

“Fuck, mama, look at how good you take him,” Eddie points out, absolutely mesmerized as far as Steve can tell by the sight of himself inside you. You’re breathing a little heavily, obviously concentrating on adjusting to him. You nod, a wide smile on your face for Eddie, and then you turn to Steve.

“Please, I need you,” you quietly beg, “I need you.”

Thats the only encouragement Steve needs before he starts moving. Steve pushes his hips against you slow and hard, his pelvis grinding against you while he moves.

“Fuck,”You whisper, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Your hand starts to slow on Eddie’s cock, fingers moving sloppily around his shaft.

Your eyes move from Steve’s to Eddie’s, making eye contact as you part your lips even farther. Steve pauses, watching the scene unfold before him. Your mouth is beautiful, lips all swollen and wet, and Eddie’s cock so pink and erect. He pushes the head of his cock past your lips just as Steve had just done to you on the other end of the couch. Eddie smiles at you, and then his eyes meet Steve’s. Theres something so flirty and affectionate in Eddie’s eyes as he smirks at him, and when Eddie winks at him, Steve forgets his control of his hips.

You moan loudly around Eddie’s cock as Steve thrusts harder into you. Shit, he didn't mean to do that; but as it turns out, you seemed to love it.

He tests it out again, another rougher thrust. He earns the same loud moan, and your mouth head moves even further down Eddie’s shaft. Steve is torn, half of him wishes he could kiss you and ask you how you're doing, the other half loves that he gets to watch Eddie’s cock slide in and out from between your lips. Its dirty, insane how much he likes this. He fucking loves watching you and Eddie. He was ready to be consumed with his jealousy the first time he saw you and Eddie kiss, how his fucking tune changed so quickly. Steve figures its because he doesn't know what he likes, he never has. He’s always been focused on what will keep people around him rather than his own fun. Pleasing you, testing the waters with Eddie, he never expected this to be so fun for him.

He starts a pace with these very deep thrusts, pulling out pretty much completely, leaning down close to grind his pelvis into you while he slams himself back inside of you as deep as possible. He watches intently as your chest heaves with every thrust, your breasts bouncing with every slam of his hips. Each of his thrusts pushes you farther onto Eddie’s cock, Steve inadvertently setting the pace for all three of you. You all move as one, the push and pull like waves crashing against a dock, hard and fearsome but oh so natural.

Steve does his best to stay quiet, biting back every moan of his own, instead trying to concentrate on hearing all of you muffled moans coming from your full mouth. He feels like he needs to memorize this sound, past his own moans. What he didn't really expect, however, is how much he wants to memorize the little gasps and pants coming from Eddie’s lips as well.

“Fuck, you two are beautiful,” Eddie sighs, breaking the rhythm of the sounds in the room, cuts through it like his pocketknife normally kept in his vest pocket. Eddie looks appreciatively between the two of you before thrusting his own hips towards your head, the surprise of his movements making you clench around Steve’s cock.

Shit, if Eddie keeps making you do that he’s going to blow his load in an instant.

You feel fucking amazing. It feels like every one of your nerves is on fire, and you're not even sure where to put your hands. They feel wasted where they rest on Steve’s biceps, but the selfish part of you is loving that you actually get to feel them up finally. You had not been prepared for how this night would go, and even less prepared for how much you loved being laid out and open for them. Did this make you a slut? You didn't think so. You'd never judged other girls that way, weirdly only holding yourself to that standard.

You're roughly jostled from finishing that train of thought (thankfully because you would have made yourself sad) by Steve speeding up his thrusts, and you can tell he’s close. Theres been a slow building tension tightening in your abdomen this entire time, and now an urgency to meet him where he is. Oh god, what it would feel like to climax in sync with THE Steve Harrington. You've heard so many stories, some of which you'd actually rolled your eyes at and made fun of with Eddie at the lunch table. My, how things have changed.

Eddie feels amazing in your mouth, now having you almost thinking your mouth was made for taking him. Never before have you loved giving a blowjob this much. You love the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, not at all minding how you choke around it. He tries to time his thrusts with Steve, you notice, their in and out matching up, filling your mouth and cunt both so deeply at the same time. Fuck, its intoxicating. You know you're a moaning mess for them, muffled by Eddie’s cock and pretty much limp below Steve. But holy fuck, is this not the best you’ve ever felt. The tension of your abdomen stirs, feeling yourself tighten around Steve, and you swear you can feel every vein of his cock from the inside now.

“She’s close,” Steve pants to Eddie, not even talking to you. You shudder, already feeling your climax building.

“Don't I know it, babe,” Eddie responds, “I can just see how fuckin’ worked up she’s getting.”

You hadn't realized you were that obvious, but it doesn't matter as you chase your own high, archign your back so Steve hits you at a different angle, somehow even deeper.

“Come for us, mama,” Eddie urges, finally talking to you again, comfortingly rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Please, fuck, please give it to me,” Steve begs, quickly losing composure himself. His thrusts start to lose their pace, and one of his arms comes up off the couch so he can press his thumb to your clit.

“Please,” He begs again.

You swallow again around Eddie’s cock, the last thing you voluntarily do before you tumble over the edge, orgasm overtaking you in quick choppy waves. You feel yourself shaking, but your mind and body are miles away from one another. You're trapped in a dream, a fantasy beyond your fantasies, entire body feeling better than its ever felt in your entire life.You try your best to keep up your pace on Eddie, but you yourself devolve into a moaning mess.

“Thats right, mama,” Eddie sighs, pulling himself out of your mouth so he can hear your moans outright. He’s not disappointed, immediately without the gag of his cock your moans echo throughout the basement.

“Please, please, please,” you beg between moans, not sure what you're even asking for at this point. Steve fucks you through your orgasm, slow and careful.

He almost collapses on top of you, caging you in with his arms, kissing your collarbone again over the hickies he had already made while he comes quietly with a little shiver of his pelvis and a whimper against your skin. He only lays there for a moment before leaning back up, making sure to press his kisses into your chest before he sits back up. He stays buried in with you, soaking in the feeling of being inside you still. Eddie watches the scene with a keen eye, like he’s trying to memorize every centimeter of what lays before him.

Steve takes this chance while he’s distracted to wrap his own large hand around Eddie’s length, pumping his shaft quickly, not the way people are jerked off in porn, the way Eddie snapped his hips into your sweet cunt only a half hour ago. Steve tries to imitate that pace as best as possible, taking Eddies groaning and gasps as encouragement. You watch blissfully, still half coming back to earth as Eddie grasps Steve’s shoulder and almost topples over, and spills around Steve’s hand, the remainder spilling onto your chest.

Without even thinking about it, you dip your fingers in the mess on your chest and press it to your lips, licking the taste of Eddie from them again.

“Holy shit, Y/n, you CAN’T do that,” Steve laughs, and you feel his cock twitch within you.

“Sorry,” you giggle, but they can both tell from your tone that you're not sorry at all. Steve slowly pulls out of you, carefully and practically hissing with sensitivity. Steve is quick to pull you to sit up, and Eddie practically jumps onto the cushion on the other side of you. Both of your men sandwiching between you.

None of you speak for a moment, just sitting there breathless and basking in the absolute pleasure of what just transpired. Steve has you pulled into his sweaty chest, and Eddie has his equally sweaty chest pressed against your back. In literally any other case you would be yelling at them, telling them to get their gross boy sweat off of you. You'd be begging for a shower or to jump into the pool despite the unseasonably cold weather.

“Fuck,” Eddie chuckles, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Fuck,” Steve echoes, pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Fuck,” You third, feeling the mix of yours, Steve’s and any remnants of Eddie’s release dripping out of you again.

You all laugh, loudly and free like the funniest joke in the world was just told. This feels so fucking normal, so incredibly normal its crazy. This feels like any other day with Eddie and Steve. Maybe thats what tells you this is meant to be. Maybe thats what makes you feebly wrap your arms around both of them to pull them even closer.

“I really like you guys,” You sigh, a dazed smile on your face.

“I like you guys too,” Eddie admits, finally speaking his attraction to Steve.

Both of you look over to Steve, the one wildcard in this situation. Panic crosses you for a moment, worried that maybe he’ll reject one of you, whichever one you’re not actually sure. What if Steve was just going along with this? What if he didnt want this? What if he just wanted a wild hookup.

“Yeah… Me too,” Steve says, sleep already lacing his voice.

You and Eddie laugh, like an inside joke between the two of you.

“Alright let's get you to bed, big guy,” You chide, nudging Steve gently as he only gets heavier against you.

“Mmmkay,” he mumbles, and you and Eddie hike yourselves up, not even bothering to dress in the empty house as you pull Steve up from the couch. He comes up easily, walking along the two of you and pressing kisses against both of your shoulders as you both lead him up to his room.

Eddie kicks the door open at the top of the stairs, and the two of you almost throw Steve onto his bed, but quickly you climb after him on sore legs, pulling yourself onto the bed and gently slapping at Steve’s back so he’ll climb up to the pillows at the head of his bed. Eddie is quick to jump in on the other side of you after closing the door after you. He pulls the sheet over you hastily, effectively putting you all into bed.

“Goodnight handsomes,” you mumble to both of them, your eyelids feeling immediately heavy as both of their arms fell upon you, each of them circling your waist and brushing each other.

You'd talk about this in the morning.

#steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #eddie munson x reader

675 notes · View notes