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steddie-island · 4 months

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Tender Headed

I saw this post by @mothofmyth and couldn't stop myself. I hope this does your idea justice. ❤️ ao3 | Divider by @cafekitsune

Someone else was standing at Steve’s usual station, instead of his usual girl.

It wasn’t a girl at all.

“Hey! Do you have an appointment?” not-regular-stylist asked.

“No– yes? I, uh– I have a standing appointment. With Kayla?” Steve brushed his fingers through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty salon.

He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, practically since the end of his last appointment. The thought of having to cancel, of having to reschedule because she was out sick or something– it made Steve’s skin feel too tight, itchy.

It made tears prick at his eyes like this was a bigger deal than just a stupid haircut.

Which. Okay, maybe it was for him, but it’s not like any of the stylists, like this stranger , needed to know that.

“Are you okay, man?”

Steve blinked, bringing the man back into focus again. He was pretty, with long curls piled up on top of his head and a delicate black hoop hanging from his septum. His cut off sleeves showed the ink decorating his arms and disappearing under the fabric.

He had to shake himself to bring the man’s voice back, to stop ogling him.

“--won’t be back for a few months,” he was explaining.

“What?” Steve knew this guy probably thought he was an idiot, but his mind was thick and sticky and nothing this guy was saying was sticking.

“Early maternity leave,” he said again, patiently. “I’m Eddie, I’m taking her station over while she’s gone.” He gestured to the empty salon again. “I don’t have any appointments right now, if you’re cool with a substitute…”

Steve almost turned around, but there was something about the wide brown eyes that fixed on him that made him stay.

“I… sure. Yeah.” It wasn’t like he was that attached to his hair anyway. Yeah, he wanted it to look good, but not to the point that everyone else thought he did.

It wasn’t about the haircut.

He followed Eddie back to the washing station. Even though this was a stranger who was going to be taking care of him, Steve still felt a shiver go through him as he got situated.

There were a few clinks, metal against ceramic. Steve tipped his head back enough to see Eddie removing several chunky rings and placing them in a little dish. A towel was rolled up carefully and placed beneath his neck.

“Tell me if this is too much.”

The water was cool, which Steve was prepared for. What he wasn’t prepared for was the way those long delicate fingers touched him. Kayla was gentle, but it was nothing like this.

The way Eddie scrubbed so carefully at his scalp made Steve melt. Each fingertip was so deliberate in its movements, in the way his hair was gathered back and brushed out of his face. Eddie’s fingers trailed over his ear and Steve had to bite his lip.

Maybe this was too much, but he couldn’t stop it.

He’d never been handled like this. No one had ever touched him like he was a delicate, breakable thing. Sure, he cuddled with Robin. He got to hug the kids, and Joyce, and Claudia.

But this was… something else.

Eddie wasn’t getting anything out of this– not the same way everyone else got something, like, paying him for his service was different, right?

Steve was going to see it as that, anyway. He imagined Eddie wasn’t touching him like this because he was getting a big tip from it.

He imagined that Eddie was brushing water off of his forehead with a knuckle because he just wanted to know what the skin felt like there. Those calloused fingers were tucking the hair behind his ears because he wanted to study the curve of his tragus– maybe wondering what Steve would look like with a hoop there, like the one in his own ear.

Eddie’s thumb was wiping away water from his cheeks because he wanted to know if Steve’s cheeks were rough with stubble or not, and not because this was just a professional courtesy.

Only maybe this wasn’t a professional courtesy.

Because it wasn’t just water that Eddie had sprayed on him. Steve was fucking crying .

He wanted to run, but before he could even get up Eddie was putting a damp hand on his shoulder.

“Stay. You’re okay.” Eddie’s voice was a low rumble that Steve wanted to hide in. “I’ve got you, big boy.”

How was Steve supposed to not listen to that? He settled back into the chair and let Eddie rinse away the shampoo. Then those nimble hands were working the conditioner into his hair just as gently. The touches were a little more solid now, though. Eddie’s fingers grazed his neck, touched his cheek, wiped more tears from his cheeks.

“You’re not the only person who comes in here for this.” Steve couldn’t even find the words to ask if he was that transparent. It wasn’t like the crying couldn’t have been from him being tender headed, or from the water being too hot. He was too focused on Eddie speaking to him to try to make excuses for himself.

Eddie’s voice was soft and low. It was comforting, and it wasn’t hard for Steve to imagine how he would sound if he were singing, the way the words would wrap around him. Would it make him feel the same way he felt with his hair wrapped around Eddie’s hands?

He was in the shampoo chair for three times as long as he normally would be. Eddie took his time with the conditioner and gave it extra time to sit. He was just as thorough about rinsing it, then about working a smoothing serum through his strands.

By the time Eddie was wrapping Steve’s hair loosely in a towel and sitting him up, Steve was feeling lighter than he’d felt in months. He figured he should have felt raw and vulnerable, and there was a little bit of that, but Eddie’s presence was calming. Maybe it was the way he chattered as he started working on Steve’s hair. He talked about other customers, about his uncle, about how he’d been doing his own hair for years. He even brought up the time he’d burnt his hair with bleach so bad he’d had to give himself a buzzcut, because that was better than the spongy mess he’d left himself with.

Steve started opening up, too, by the time Eddie was drying and styling his hair. He talked about his own worst haircut, about the time Robin had let him bleach her hair and she had ended up with a streak of green in her hair instead of blue. At least it had been cute, though.

Eddie spritzed Steve’s hair once… twice… a third and then a fourth time before smiling at their reflections in the mirror. This close, and without tears in his eyes, Steve could see the dimples in his cheeks.

“What do you think?” Eddie brushed his fingers over the ends of Steve’s hair, then dropped a hand to let the weight of it rest against his shoulder.

“I think it’s great.” Steve smiled back at him. It looked the same as it did when Kayla had worked on it, but he’d never looked this good before. Maybe it was the cut, or maybe it was just the way Eddie had put something bright back into his eyes.

Steve pulled his card out to pay but Eddie refused.

“I think we both needed today,” he’d said before smiling and sliding his card across the counter. “I hope you come back and see me sometime, Stevie. I’m happy to take care of you anytime.”

Normally Steve might take that as flirting– and maybe it was, the way Eddie’s dimples popped even more and his eyes really sparkled under the light. It wasn’t just flirting, though, and that made warmth blossom in Steve’s chest.

“Yeah, man. Definitely.” Steve tucked the card away and turned for the door. “Actually…” He looked back at Eddie, who had picked up the broom. “Do you maybe want to get a drink after work?”

Eddie’s grin was bright. “Hell yeah. Why do you think I didn’t charge you?” he teased. “I get off in an hour.”

Steve laughed with him. “Cool. I’ll see you in an hour, then.”

---

As it turned out, Steve didn’t need to come back in an hour because he hadn’t left yet. He was still there, helping Eddie clean things up. They talked about the kids Steve babysat, and Eddie pointed out that maybe it was okay for him to just say they were hanging out, because fifteen and sixteen year olds didn’t tend to need babysitters anymore.

They picked up food in Eddie’s van, and they drove to the quarry to eat sitting in the back of it, with the doors open and two milkshakes between them.

When they shared their first kiss that night it tasted like salt and fake strawberries. They parted ways with plans to see each other again the next day.

Maybe it was okay that Steve didn’t have a standing appointment with his usual stylist anymore.

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #Stranger Things fic #kintsugi_kid ao3

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star-stilinski · 23 days

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stiles with virgin reader? maybe she's like insecure or like is just scared he'll look at her differently 😩😩 everytime i watch the eichen house basement scene i literally die because he is so sweet and gentle and GHRHHSHEHDH

okay so i actually have that written from before i deleted my blog... would you guys want me to write another?! i'll repost the one i have but this concept is really super fun to me and i like writing it a lot so... maybe you guys would want to see more?? anyway here's the old one!

☆

yep, stiles is perfect. dominant, but just to guide you. observant and overly educated (he once spent an all nighter researching female pleasure and orgasms. he stayed a virgin for a long time after, but at least he knew!). he wants you to feel good.

i feel like he had a conversation with allison once when she was really frustrated with scott where she basically ranted about how he was great in bed, really, but he sometimes got too excited and forgot about her until later. or his wearwolfness made him a bit rough. stiles just kinda stood there, but he was determined to keep that from being his reviews when he finally got laid. it was very educational.

set right before season 4.

you're reading up on the spanish mafia on your bed while stiles types away on his computer with one hand and breaks to texts scott with the other. he seems to be especially stimulated today.

"i think my excuse will be that we're camping." he mumbles randomly, setting his phone down face-up to take a swig from your water bottle. you frown. he smiles. "when we go get derek."

"for your dad?" you set the library book on the floor and scoot up on your bed, sitting back against the pillows.

"yeah. he's all worried i'm isolating myself after... everything. so he'll like that anyway. hey, scott invited us to the lake later tonight, wanna go?" your boyfriend talks so quick you almost get dizzy. that subject change was so stiles though, and seeing him as himself after those worrying days of the possessed, zombie-eyed shell of a man he was makes your chest feel fuzzy.

but at the mention of swimming, you glance away from him. you hadn’t been feeling super awesome about your body lately. It’s just… stiles is amazing, really, but he never says much about your looks and you’re scared he’s not into that part of you. It’s not like you need to be constantly hit on, but knowing that he wanted you in every way would be… well, it would make you feel better than you do.

so you hesitate, at the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of everyone. “uh, i dunno, i have a lot of homework.”

he laughs and his eyebrows shoot up. "what? we got ahead on, like, everything. did you fall behind again?”

"okay, first off, we did not get ahead on everything. we did everything due this week. you’re just used to waiting until the night before to rush through. second of all, i’m not really feeling the lake right now.”

“why not?” he frowns, tilting his head at you. you roll your neck and sigh, wishing you hadn’t said anything. It was so annoying to try and explain it.

“i mean…” you shift uncomfortably on your bed. “i don’t know. i’m just feeling weird lately.”

stiles stands, grabbing a stray pen to fiddle with as he stretches his legs, pacing your bedroom floor. "yeah, that's what you say, don't you? that you’re feeling ‘weird’.”

"you're weird." you deflect, watching him pace. he likes it when you do that, you both realized one day a long time ago when his hair was buzzed and you had braces. a lot has changed since then, but he still liked to know that you’re listening when he has to move around.

"and yet here you sit, after inviting me over to listen to me ramble." he teases back, throwing you a look before turning to walk the other side of the floor. he scans the pictures and posters on your wall, back turned to you. "seems like my weird is good weird and yours is bad weird."

you're thankful he isn't watching as you flush a light pink color in the cheeks. it's the stupidest stuff getting you flustered recently. the other day he said 'atta girl' to you and you were still blushing ten minutes later. kira actually thought you were sick.

you know why. Part of you just wants to ask him, but a larger part of you assumes that -even as his girlfriend- he’ll be grossed out if you asked to have sex. He’s just not into you like that.

stiles swivels around to look at you, frowning curiously. "you went quiet."

"oh, um," you shift on the bed and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. he watches you do so with a look on his face before stepping closer to the edge of the bed while you scramble to remember what you were talking about. "your weird is tolerable weird."

he smirks and scoffs but it's kind of a laugh, one that makes your stomach swoop pleasantly. "what makes yours bad weird?"

"it’s nothing, sti’.” you fiddle with one of your stuffed animals, growing antsy under his gaze. “just thoughts.”

you feel the bed dip beside you as stiles sits, feeling his shoulder brush with yours. there's plenty of room on the bed. you know he did it on purpose.

"i like to know your thoughts.”

"yeah, well, sometimes i prefer to keep them in my head." you huff, still not looking at him. “and anyway, they’re just-”

"weird?" he interrupts and you look up at him. he's smirking, brows up, eyes sparkly.

you frown at his cockiness. you were going to say weird, but still. you can hear him silently asking you to elaborate.

"you’re not allowed to get all pitying, okay?" you feel yourself about to spill anyway, so you might as well tell him. it would usually take a lot more encouragement for you to say anything, but it's stiles and he's using his stupid pretty eyes on you and you trust him with your life. “lately i just feel kinda… just like, um, not great, i guess? i’m just scared i’m not doing enough for you, or something’s wrong with me because you never say anything about my looks and i dont need you to, but if you’re unsatisfied i want to change that because i want you to be happy in every area to do with me.”

stiles is silent for a moment. you look up and catch him look away from you. he frowns and looks back, meeting your gaze head on.

"that's not weird.” he says, quietly, brows upturned. “you… wow, you’re dense.”

you laugh abruptly at the jab stiles pulled, embarrassed. "stiles! I’m not upset or anything, i just dont want you to not be into the way i look. which might be unrealistic, i guess. not everyone is going to be physically attracted to me. that's fine."

"you say that a lot." his tone drops to something more thoughtful. you give him a face and tilt your head.

"what? no i don't."

"yeah, you do. 'oh, well, lydia's the beauty out of all of us anyway.' 'malia, you should dance with kira to blend in. that would be casual and guys will find you two hot, anyway.' 'that isn't my color.' 'i'm breaking out.' 'i'm bloated.' 'i don't think anyone would want to see me in something that revealing.'"

you feel heat crawl up your neck as he quotes stuff you've said the past few weeks. you scramble to make him wrong. "stiles, literally all of those were different sentences."

"no, they were not." he shifts, like he's revving up to explain something. you press yourself against the pillows to create space between you two. he notices. "you keep saying you think you're ugly. just the other day, a girl you didn't even know came up to you and said you were pretty and when she walked away you said she was lying. i remember, you were convinced. thought it was just to be nice because you had let her cut you in line for drinks. it was at the movies."

you look away from him, narrowing your eyes. you're embarrassed right now, and he knows. why isn't he stopping? "she was lying, stiles. you're a guy, you can't see that stuff like girls do."

"i'm a guy, i'm not blind." he gets hotter in his voice. both in tone and in attractiveness, getting sterner. saying 'i'm right' without saying it. "are you blind? you're so pretty. like, objectively."

"stiles, can you drop this? I shouldn’t have said anything." you curl in on yourself, drawing your knees up to hide your body. you feel so exposed, like he tugged the part of you out that you don't really like to talk about.

stiles goes soft. like a flip being switched, he loses his fight and shifts to face you better, placing a hand on your knee. "hey, i'm sorry."

you desperately want to go back to when he was a safe distance away and pacing your room and teasing you. you hate it when you ruin the mood with your feelings. you hate how much you love it when he touches you, especially since he'd never want you the way that you want him.

"it's fine, i promise." you claw around your brain for something to change the subject, but you feel it short circuit as stiles' hand begins to hold your cheek. he lifts your chin to look at him. you feel your cheeks flame hot and your whole body warm at his touch. you stare at him as you feel your resolve practically melt away.

"do you think you're pretty?" he asks, curiously. like you're something he doesn't fully understand yet, but he's on his way and he's getting excited to speed up the process. it makes you nervous.

"umm... i don't know..." you don't think so. you're very confident that you're ugly. but telling stiles that is letting him win. and you don't know what you'll do with a cocky stiles when he's already ballsy enough to corner you like he is now.

"i do." he says with finality. stiles gets closer and his hand leaves your cheek, only to part your legs gently and crawl in between them. "i think you’re hot. and pretty. and when you focus you nibble your lip and it kinda makes me want to pin you to the nearest flat surface and eat you out.”

now your legs are on either side of stiles and he's leaning over you, eyes roaming over your face hungrily. you stutter dumbly for a moment, face flushed and feeling like a cornered bunny getting stared down by a wolf. his scent becomes stronger and you resist the urge to ask him to do just that, opting instead for feeling like a gross creep and fretting if you’ve shaved well enough.

"you don’t have to say that..." you trail off, still flustered at stiles' boldness. "i just didn't really know what you thought about my looks, i guess. b-but i guess that’s kinda conceited, huh?" you laugh weakly at your joke. stiles doesn't laugh at all. instead, he watches you quietly for a moment, a hand landing on your knee again.

"i don’t say anything because i never want you to feel uncomfortable." he states breathily. you squirm under him as he leans forward, a determined look in his eyes. “do you want me to tell you what i think about you?”

"stiles, c'mon." you turn your head away. maybe you can resist this question by acting pathetic. it's not really working, and stiles just gently guides your chin so that you're looking at him again. he knows the answer. he kinda has to, doesn't he? otherwise he wouldn't be doing this.

"I want to hear you say it." he looks into your eyes like it would actually literally kill him if you said no. you feel that rush you get when he talks like this, all quiet and deep like he's breathless. and despite you thinking that stiles thought of you as a low-physicality girlfriend, you find yourself nodding slightly.

"yes, i do."

stiles sighs out like you just healed every one of his wounds and leans forward, shifting himself so that he's propped on his hands and knees above you. one hand moves to your waist and the other holds his weight as he leans down.

the kiss sends a spark down your spine. as he goes back in again, kissing you harder, deeper, gently guiding your mouth open, you think it's better than any other kiss you've experienced. his hand inches your shirt up to reveal your stomach and he pulls back.

"you're beautiful. okay? i feel like you're not hearing me. i want you to see it." he says, still upset about that. you're still a bit flustered by the quick change of events, so you don’t respond.

he frowns at your lack of response but it softens as your hands slide onto his neck, pulling him down again. he smiles and goes back in for another kiss.

this one's even more than the last. stiles' tongue... well, it works. that's all you can describe as he makes you gasp in surprised pleasure from just a kiss. you can feel his slightly cocky smirk as he kisses again, but it gets lost when you rake your nails lightly against the back of his neck. he manuvers you both further down the bed so you're laying more comfotably and kisses you deeply again, like he can't get enough.

he presses his knee up against your core as you kiss and it sends a pulse of pleasure up your body, making you pinch your brows. stiles pulls back abruptly, and you're both panting. you can see your spit making his lips glisten prettily and you want to hide under the covers and pull him back into you at the same time.

"hey," stiles dawns a little smile. it's sweet, and when he tugs at the hem of your shirt gently your heart flutters. "can i take this off?"

you pause at that. if he takes your shirt off, he'll have to see you shirtless. you didn't wear a nice bra today, just the grey t-shirt bra you got at walmart. but he wants to see you shirtless. and you want to see him shirtless.

then again, you’re no pornstar-level body. maybe stiles will be disappointed. or laugh. no, no, he won’t laugh. but if he doesn’t like it, he won’t say anything, and you’ll be stuck wondering what he’s thinking again...

"i can hear you overthinking, you know." stiles' big palm lands on your bare waist, his thumb rubbing your skin softly. "we can stop if you want."

you meet his eyes. he looks like he really means it, like he'll pretend none of this happened if you asked. his hand leaves your waist, cups your cheek, and his thumb presses against your bottom lip softly. you breathe in. "i don't want to stop."

he nods, smiling. it's crooked and you almost giggle because of course stiles is excited to keep making out. and then his gaze shifts and he takes his hand off your cheek to tug on your shirt again. his brows lift in question.

"uhm, yeah." you nibble your lip. fuck it. "take it off."

"that was not enthusiastic enough."

"i-?! don't blame me if you don't like what you see! i just don't want you to be unimpressed!" you squeak defensively. he laughs and pulls you up just enough to lift your shirt off.

"you can be so obtuse sometimes." he mumbles as he tosses your shirt out of the way. you're propped up on your forearms when he turns back around and you can practically hear the breaks in his brain screech to a halt.

his eyes roam your body in a way that makes you flush and his hands aren't much better, spreading over your now-exposed middle like they have a mind of their own. he lets out a breath and blinks a few times, one hand sliding up to cup your bra. “s’ this okay?”

you swallow and nod. it is. really. you like the way stiles’ hands feel on you and how his eyes track over you like he wants to devour you but doesn’t want to hurt you. you like how eager he is to touch you. it makes you feel like maybe he really wants to.

he leans over you and presses a kiss to your neck. you tilt your head back on instinct as he grows more persistent, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and nibbling your neck to pull a sound out of you. you gasp when he nibbles your earlobe and he reacts positively, hands getting more confident as he cups your breasts or you waist or whatever he can get ahold of.

you feel him press his knee up against you again and it makes you jolt momentarily. your thoughts are getting hazier, you feel yourself relaxing every second you spend underneath him. his hand travels up your back and finds your bra clasp and he kisses down your collarbone as he undoes it.

“you’re so pretty.” he starts, pulling back. you blink up at him as he sits over you. “you are, I don’t care what you think. I can’t believe you’re so convinced otherwise.”

he pauses, giving you time to reject him or tell him to stop or do anything. instead, you tug at his shirt, pulling it up.

he takes it off immediately and you press your hands against his bare skin. “stiles, i’ve never done anything before. I’m not gonna be good.”

he scoffs and shakes his head, toying with your loose bra strap. it’s still on, unclasped. he’s waiting.

“you’re doing so good right now, idiot.” he hums affectionately as he traces the seam of your bra, fingers brushing your breast. you suck in a breath. he watches your chest rise. “i’ve, um, thought about this before. a lot. and it’s ten times better having you under me than daydreaming about it.”

you blush at that. he traces the underside of your breast, fingers slipping under your bra to feel your skin. “I want to make you feel good.” he whispers, meeting your eyes. you nod slowly, fingers running along his abdomen as you admire him.

“you do?” you ask, as if he wasn’t practically pinning you to the bed already. he nods eagerly and it spurs you on. you shift, slowly pulling your bra off. he helps you and tosses it away with your shirt, but his eyes never leave you. instead, they dart all over your chest, hands cupping your tits. he sighs and his thumbs swipe over your pebbling nipples, making you squeak in shock.

“you’re so beautiful. ‘m gonna make you believe it, okay?” he says with finality, maneuvering so that he can kiss your breasts. you gasp when his tongue flicks over your nipple and he pulls up just to envelop your mouth. “you sound so pretty. just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

you’re embarrassed at how easy it is for you to make noise and how eager you are to listen to his instructions. you sink into the pillows and let your eyes flutter shut as stiles kisses you. it's soft and slow, but it makes you a puddle anyway.

stiles gets the both of you down to your underwear shortly after. his hands are incessantly gentle and when he does something new he leaves a sort of gap for you to tell him to stop.

you never do.

he's mouthing at your neck when he first presses his long fingers against your clothed clit, and you sigh lightly in relief. the pressure was more than enough and you had completely soaked through your panties anyway. he pulls away from your neck to watch you as he rubs a slow circle against your nerves, humming in approval when your lips part and your brows pinch.

"does that feel good?" he questions quietly, still rolling a circle against you with his middle finger. you nod and hear him swallow as his eyes roam from your exposed tits to your wet spot and everywhere in between, locking eyes with you at the end.

"i can't wait to hear you. you're gonna sound so good." he mumbles, mostly to himself as he slowly pulls your panties off. you whine in embarrassment and cover your face with your hand.

"don't say stuff like that!" you huff, scrubbing your face like it will make the blushing subside. "you're getting your hopes up."

"jesus christ." he groans, and it sounds super fucking hot. you peek through your fingers and see him looking at you like you've wounded him. "you've exceeded every single one of my very high hopes i've been getting off to since freshman year so far. you-i mean, look at what you're doing to me."

he gently takes the hand you're using to cover your face and guides it against his bulge. he's hard as a rock, and when you press your hand against him he tilts his head back and sighs out. "seriously, you're so gorgeous. and you're a great kisser. you're doing so good. i mean..."

with your panties off and him in between your legs, he has easy access as he slides two fingers through your slick. you can both hear it in the quiet of the room and you feel that heat rush of embarrassment again, eyes widening as he literally moans. "you're so wet. just for me."

and as he presses his finger to your clit, it feels ten times better than it did with your panties on. you gasp and your eyes flutter closed as you whimper "god," completely on accident. his hands aren't amazingly skillful, but the way he watches your reactions and tweaks his performance, fucking a finger into you and keeping his pace on your bundle of nerves-it's almost hotter than a guy who isn't looking to improve, because stiles is adjusting things to your preference. not just what every woman would generally like.

"how's it feel, pretty girl?" he hums against your stomach, kissing down your body. you don't know what the hell he's doing but most of your mental focus is on how stiles is making you feel, anyway.

"feels good, sti'," you gasp, feeling his mouth against your thigh. he moans when you say his name before sucking a hickey onto your inner thigh. your eyes snap open and you prop yourself up to look at him, eyes wide. "are you leaving a mark?"

stiles looks up at you, and then at your neck, and then your tits. he pulls away from your skin slowly and mumbles "uhm..."

"whatever, just... don't make it ugly. hickeys can look so weird." you flop back against the pillows and sigh, but your thoughts are cut short as stiles-

"oh, fuck," you moan, rolling your hips against stiles' tongue unconsciously as he presses his mouth on your clit. he flicks his tongue and you gasp out another moan, hips lifting.

his big hands land on your bare hips and press them back down, holding them there as he looks up at you. meanwhile, his tongue is laying claim on you in a way no one ever has, and he's making you feel better than you ever have. you sit up on your forearms to watch him and he sucks on your clit, making your eyes roll back. "stiles, oh god, that feels really good-"

he moans at your noises, mouth moving with more fervor against you, hands pulling you closer to him. he's doing everything perfectly, or so you thought, until he pulls a hand away from your hip and presses two fingers inside of you. it's a stretch, but it feels amazing, and your brain is fried as you feel yourself hurtling towards that edge-

and then he pulls back.

you look down at the speed of light, glaring at him on accident. "wha-? why-?"

his eyes are dark, something you haven't seen in them before. his mouth is covered in your arousal and he's sitting up, leaning over you. "i really want you to finish with me inside you. does... is that...?"

your previous annoyance falls away and you bob your head enthusiastically. "yeah. yes. please."

he grins and licks some of your slick off of his lips before kissing you sweetly. when he pulls back, you look down to take his boxers off but realize he took them off already. you also realize you've never seen stiles' dick before.

"your staring is making me nervous." he teases, rubbing your thigh. you blink and look back up at him, smiling sheepishly. he smiles back, and it's crooked, and he's tilting his head and panting and sometimes his eyes are wandering to your tits before snapping back up to your eyes. and.

"you're the hottest guy in the whole world, i think." you hum, reaching up to cup his cheek. his eyes go wide and he laughs, kissing your palm.

"is my dick that big?"

"not what i meant."

"it could be."

you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. "'s it gonna hurt?"

his eyes go soft, a bit worried. "proabably for a second, but we'll go at your pace so you can stretch out properly, and if it's too much i can just finish the way i started, kay?"

you nod. stiles would never, ever hurt you. and with the way he's looking at you and how he moans when you feel good and how his hands always have to find a way to pleasure you... something in you switches and you realize he really wants you to like this. that he's being honest when he says he's thought about it a lot.

so as he quickly rolls on a condom (which included him admitting that he usually grabs one before he leaves to see you) and presses into you -slowly, slowly- you try your best to relax against the pillows. it's not unbearable, but you have to ask him to pause sometimes. he always does, and layers praises on top of each other while he does it.

"you're doing so well. just breathe, okay? just like that. holy shit, you feel amazing- b-but how do you feel? you alright?" he rambles halfway inside. you nod, breathing deeply.

"it actually feels... good..." you close your eyes and pull on his waist, urging him forward slowly. he bottoms our and gasps out a moan at the same time you do, feeling him reach the spot you're never able to. his hand snakes in between the two of you and presses against your clit. you gasp out his name, tilting your head back. it's almost too much.

almost.

as you urge him to move, he presses slow circles against your bundle of nerves and kisses any patch of your bare skin he can get ahold of.

"just relax, baby- fuck, god, you know how may times i've thought about this?" he pulls out slowly and pushes back in, and all of his stimulating mixed with his moans and his words... he's doing a good fucking job, that's for sure.

you moan when he moves a little quicker, gasping. he presses his tongue into your open mouth and kisses you sloppily, going a bit faster with every thrust. you whine when he flicks your clit almost crudely, pressing your head back against the mattress and gasping, "faster, sti'"

he obeys without further encouragement, snapping his hips a little quicker than comfortable. you feel your body adjust and watch stiles as he leans back to admire you.

his eyes rake over you, one hand cupping your breast and kneading it softly. he lets out a higher pitched moan than you've heard from him when he sees the point where your bodies connect, slowing his thrusts just to watch. "you're perfect, i swear to god."

you can't respond, not when he's already leaning down to overstimulate your nipples. your brain feels like it's in the other room and has been replaced with stiles' hands, almost solely focused on his kneading of your tits and his circling of your clit. his mouth makes its way back up your neck and he kisses you again, still with very little concern for the proprieties of it.

it's sudden, the feeling that crawls up on you as his hips snap quicker and praise falls from his mouth in between kisses. you gasp for air and tug his head back by pulling his hair, causing a loud moan from him that you'll have to unpack later. you're arching your back, whimpering "faster, faster," squeezing your eyes shut as you feel that sweet release low in your belly. he speeds up his hips, but more importantly his fingers on your clit. your vision goes white for a split second as you cry out, chanting his name like a prayer. you hear him moaning too, and it only helps you as he rides you through your orgasm.

"holy shit," you gasp as you come down. he nods, pulling out of you carefully, and you both lock eyes. you're smiling and he's kissing you and everything feels kind of perfect for a split second. then you remember him, and feel like an idiot. "oh, did you, i totally forgot, did you-"

"don't worry," he laughs sheepishly and glances away from you. "i did. it was, um, when you pulled me away from kissing you."

"when i pulled your hair?" you ask incredulously. he buries his face into your neck and groans.

"maybe we should focus on you again." he kisses up your neck and all over your face. "you did so good, you're so perfect and pretty and oh my god you thought i wasn't attracted to you. you're so out of it sometimes."

"stop insulting me! you never said anything!" you defend, slapping his shoulder. he laughs and cups your face.

"i'm going to say every thought i have now. okay?"

"i feel like this isn't going to end well..."

he grins mischievously. "you look so good when you're cumming. let me make you make that face again?"

you close your eyes and sigh. "yeah, i knew it. this is going to be the death of me."

he laughs, loudly, excitedly, and kisses you. "it's funny how you think death will help. i bet you'd be a sexy ghost. oh, fuck, now i'm thinking about that. yep, it's hot."

you shout and push him off of you, laughing.

☆

when i wrote this originally, i wasn't super happy with it. even now i'm like... ehhh.... i dunno.... so if you guys want more of stiles with virgin/inexperienced reader, i have a lot of ideas and would totally post some if given the 'okay' from my fellow stiles lovers! let me know!!

(please say you want more because i want to make more lowkey tho just lowkey like idec but please)

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf x reader #dylan o'brien #teen wolf #fanfic

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silkscream · 5 months

Text

our boredom's bone-deep

ੈ✩ aki hayakawa x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst, alcohol, smoking, hurt/comfort, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of s*icidal ideation

ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: theyre both so repressed. also sorry about the tswift reference guilty as sin is just on repeat this week

“Yo.”

Aki turns around to see you walking towards him. You join him on the balcony, reaching over to steal his cigarette back from the breast pocket of his windbreaker.

He looked good in civilian clothes. You didn’t see him like this often – out of his dress shirt and tie with his hair down. Dressed casually like he was a normal boy and not a hunter who signed his soul over.

“You can ask first, you know,” Aki grumbles, watching as you light up the cigarette in your mouth.

“You were going to say yes, anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, knowing that it’s true. He’d taken you to his apartment because it was closer to the location of the mission, offering aid to the wounds you’d gotten in the face of a devil. He didn’t have to. You could still walk and you certainly weren’t dying, but he felt the need to keep you close, anyway.

You chuckle when you see the irritated look on his face.

“Don’t pout.”

The cigarette in his mouth is burned down to the nub. You take it out, grazing the cherried end against the ceramic eightball ashtray you’d gotten him for Christmas the year before. The paint was chipping from how often he used it, speckles of white against the black paint.

You take another cig out from the pack before placing it back into his pocket, holding the stick between your fingers up to his mouth and lighting it.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“You’re very welcome,” you grin.

You stay like that for a few minutes. Smoking and silent, staring at the sky post-golden hour, when everything is blanketed in cobalt blue bleeding into a light orange.

“How are your cuts?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckle. “Why do you worry so much? I’ve been around longer than you have, you know.”

Aki merely shrugs. He doesn’t look at you. Holds in his emotions like a geyser begging to stay dormant.

“I just do,” he says plainly.

“How sweet,” you scoff, flicking your cigarette off the railing. “Thought you liked me the least, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, irritated. “You’re the one who trained me. Obviously, I don’t hate you.”

You merely chuckle, discarding your blazer. Your uniform shirt is still slightly bloodied.

“What, you think I don’t like you?” Aki asks, a brow raised.

“I’d be surprised if you liked anyone,” you shrug. “But I can tell you have a soft spot for Denji and Power, even if you refuse to admit it.”

He grunts, looking away from you as he finishes his second cigarette. The late spring breeze blows his hair into his face. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he adjusts his arms on the balcony, his elbow grazing yours. You don’t react, your chin tucked into your arms as you lean forward. He looks at you with curiosity.

You look at him finally and grin.

“You look better with your hair down, you know.”

“I was thinking about cutting it,” he mumbles.

“Don’t. It’s cute. I always thought you looked kind of like a girl. The hair is working.”

He rolls his eyes again, grimacing. He tries to hide his flush.

“Thanks,” he deadpans. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What do you mean?” you grin. “You think I’m scary and mean? I’m very sweet to my lovers, you know.”

He could cringe. That wasn’t what he meant. He shivers at the word “lover” like it’s taboo, knowing very well that images of you are flooding his brain against his will. Your proximity makes it worse, how even despite both of you getting roughed up during your mission, you still smelled sweet to him.

“Yeah, right.”

“Do you really think I’m so cruel?” you challenge him. He’s not going to take the bait. He won’t.

“I’d assume you were a sadist.”

“You think I’m a sadist?” you laugh.

“Probably,” Aki grumbles. He fidgets.

He doesn’t want to take out another cigarette, but he’s convinced that it’s the only thing that would help him tolerate your presence right now. He’d felt unusual since he took you back to this apartment. His nose wrinkles at the memory of your body hours prior, your side saturated in blood. His rabbit heart thumping out of his chest at the thought you’d die in his arms — and yet here you are, next to him, teasing like you always do.

“Why?”

“Because you love pushing me to my limits,” he mutters.

“Oh, come on,” you chuckle. “It’s not like I treat you like a toy. I’m not Makima.”

“What does Makima have to do with this—”

“Because you listen to everything she says. It’s like all of you fucking worship her.”

Your voice sounds bitter, but Aki doesn’t want to pry about it. For some reason, something in his chest riles him, makes his heartbeat faster at the prospect that you might be jealous of his devotion to Miss Makima. You’d always clashed in your beliefs but was never particularly candid about it – you were like him. You wanted to kill devils for the sake of avenging your family, but you also seemed apathetic about your life. With no family or a promising future, you often didn’t care if you died. It was the most frustrating thing about you.

Aki huffs. “You hate following rules yet you’re still controlling. It’s hypocritical.”

“I am not controlling.”

“You are. And you love to torment me because I’m the only one willing to put up with your shit,” he says, laughing humorlessly. You don’t know that he would do anything you told him, that he didn’t give a fuck about Makima. It had always been you, at the forefront of both his blissful dreams and worst nightmares.

“I like your resilience,” you say quietly.

“Resilience?”

You nod slowly. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aki.”

He hates how much dopamine fills his brain when you say this. The smallest praises from you would have him hung up, lately. Even a smile was motivating, though he’d rather die than admit that to anyone. He was never one to pine or yearn, keeping to himself since he was young. No girl could pry anything out of him that wasn’t surface-level until you.

He hated it. It felt like a weakness.

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.”

“If I’m actually that strong, I probably would’ve broken down your walls by now.”

It could be a teasing statement, but he tucks his expression away into the fabric of his jacket, looking away from you. You’re so close to him, close enough to touch, but he still holds himself back.

“You should save your efforts,” you mumble.

Aki looks at you with narrowed eyes and tries to scan your face for anything telling, but you’re as stoic as him. He’d always found it frustrating, how he could never get anything out of you. He didn’t know how to be selfish. He was apprehensive about provoking you despite how much he wanted to.

“Why?”

You finally look him in the eye. Your features are painted with stubborn contempt as you glare at him.

“Because I’m not worth it.”

Your words strike him through the heart. You weren’t one to be particularly insecure – he’d known this since he met you. But your words now are trying to downplay how much he feels for you, and he won’t have it.

Aki moves close enough to you to smell your breath.

“You don’t get to decide whether or not I waste my time on you,” he protests.

You stare at him. You’re surprised he wants to know you at all. You’ve barely processed the meaning behind his words, the possibility of him wanting you beyond mission support and devil-hunting guidance. Both of you had walls up and that was fine. You never had any intention of breaking any of his, regardless of how often he showed up in your dreams. No matter how often you’d find yourself glancing at him, drinking up his features until you had snapped yourself out of it.

“You can’t want things as a devil hunter,” you say blankly, staring at the dark sky. “There’s no use. Desire is the root of all suffering and shit, right? Like in Buddhism?”

Aki feels his face warm up, his frown deepening as you say this without even looking at him.

“I’ll suffer for you if I want to,” he says firmly.

“Always a masochist,” you whisper, sighing. You smile weakly at him.

“Maybe I am a masochist.”

“I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a devil hunter, huh?”

“Why are you a devil hunter?” he raises a brow.

“Because it’s better than killing myself. If I die because of this job, at least I died being useful, you know?”

He swallows thickly at the thought of your death. He’d imagined it a thousand times since he met you and realized how sardonic you were, how little you cared about your own life. You were a mirror of him.

“Don’t say shit like that,” he says, his tone cold.

“It’s the truth.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not letting you die.”

You stare at him, the expression on your face unreadable. Your eyes look dim.

“Thanks,” you mutter. You slide the glass door open and go back inside. Aki feels his lungs ache.

Eventually, he follows you in and sees you on the couch, staring blankly at the television with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. He rolls his eyes. You were just as bad as Kishibe these days.

He sits down next to you without a word, stealing the bottle to take a gulp, flinching. You watch with amusement. He grimaces at you.

“What?” he asks, irritated.

“You can do better than that.”

He wants to wipe the smirk off your face. Maybe with his mouth. He blinks at you a little too fast, then distracts himself with another gulp. A longer one that makes his throat burn, his head dizzy. You laugh.

“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles.

“I didn’t force you to do it,” you scoff.

No, you didn’t. But it was always easy for Aki to do things for you. He often wanted to, didn’t ask any questions. You always wondered why.

“Would you roll around like a dog if I asked you to?” you grin.

“Fuck off.”

You lay down, perching your legs over his lap. He sets his hands on your thigh like it’s second nature to him. You scan his features. His midnight eyes glisten with the blue of the television reflecting in his irises, his mouth downturned into a default pout.

“You should keep your hair down more often.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he’d forgotten you were there.

“Pretty boy,” you mumble.

“You’re drunk.” He tries to keep his expression level. His face is hot from the whiskey, not you, he tells himself.

You shift your position and your foot grazes his crotch. It makes his breath hitch, the creature of want inside him gnawing at his heart. He thinks maybe you’re teasing him, so he takes your foot and rubs it. You raise a brow.

You’re sitting up now, grunting as you do. He pretends that you aren’t staring at him.

“Does it still hurt?” he murmurs.

“Nah. I’m good.”

There’s contempt on his face when he looks at you, his eyes tracing your collarbone just for a second before gazing at the blood on your shirt. Speckled shapes turning from red to brown.

“Let me see.”

“Aki. I’m fine.”

“Let me see,” he mumbles.

You sigh, unbuttoning your shirt until you’re only in a sports bra. He frowns at your wound, how the gauze is dark and nearly falling off.

“Why didn’t you tell me it needed to be changed?”

“It’s fine—”

“No,” he scolds. “Stay still.”

He pins you down by your hips. Somehow, he’s in between your legs, his face frowning in concentration as he looks at your skin. He gets up to grab the first aid kit.

You take another sip of whiskey.

It numbs the pain when he fixes you up again. His fingers are delicate when they handle you — you can’t help but stare at the way they move when he blots your cut. A small press to the center and you feel it sting, making you hiss. He grips you by the waist to disarm you.

Stay still.

“There,” he breathes, kneeling on the floor in front of you. “It’s more secure now.”

He looks at your stomach, watching the rise and fall of your skin as you breathe. You reach out and pat his head like he’s a pet.

Aki was a cute drunk. Still stoic, but malleable in your hands. There are moments during group outings when he opens up a little, places his head on your shoulder. Looks at you for a bit longer than he normally allows himself to.

He presses his cheek to your thigh and sighs as you skim the nape of his neck with your fingers. You stroke his jaw. It’s the closest he’s ever been to you.

Your thumb hooks on his mouth briefly and you feel his tongue on the pad of your fingertip. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Glazed over in the dimness, dripped in syrup.

“You’re barely awake,” you breathe. “I should go.”

“No.” He grips your wrist when you pull your hand away, saliva from his mouth creating the string of fate. The sight made your heart sing. Disgusting.

“Why?” you whisper.

He’s quiet. He could bite the bullet, let the heat of it soar straight through his chest so you can see all the gory bits of desire in him. The whiskey only exacerbated the feeling. He was usually good at keeping it down, despite clinging to you like an extra limb. You probably saw right through him.

“Just stay,” he mutters.

“Make me stay, then.”

He hides his face in your lap again. He feels like such a boy. When you run your fingers through his hair again, he pulls away and grabs both of your wrists, pulling you toward him until you fall onto his lap, his body on the floor. He grips your hips and stares at you from below.

“What are you doing? You wanna wrestle?” you joke half-heartedly.

“No,” he slurs quietly. “You’re hurt.”

Aki sits up and leans on the back of his elbows. He looks at you like he’s eager prey, offering himself on a platter, but he won’t say it. It’s killing you.

“C’mon,” you grin. “I can take it.”

“Stop.”

You pin him to the ground. You’re playing. It’s just that and nothing else, isn’t it?

“Aki,” you say. Your face is so close to his. Your breath smells like tobacco and cinnamon, your neck like petrichor.

“I’m not letting you provoke me,” he groans.

You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to take care of me.”

“But I want to,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.

“Then I’ll take care of you. I’m your senpai, remember?”

His face is hot again, sweat sticking to his shoulder blades. Fuck, he needed to fix the fan since Power and Denji had broken it while wrestling. The memory reminds him of the position he’s in right now and a flush creeps up his neck.

“I–”

Your mouth interrupts him. It’s an experimental peck. Impulsive. It’s short, but Aki groans into it and touches his tongue with yours. You pull away with wide eyes.

There’s hunger in his gaze, something like desperation. You could work with this. You knew that you had Aki wrapped around your finger since he started at Public Safety, but you didn’t know he would be like this.

He breathes deeply, dark lashes blinking at you from the mess of his bangs. His dick was infallibly hard since you’d straddled him. It was aching now underneath your cunt — there was no hiding it.

He narrows his eyes, trying to disguise how much he wants you.

“Thought you said desire is the root of all suffering.”

“I guess we’re both masochists, then,” you whisper.

He kisses you with more force this time, buries his mouth into your neck to exhale the scent of his shampoo in your hair. Drunk on you. He sucks a hickey into your flesh like it’s payback.

He groans when he feels your hands underneath his shirt, rubbing against the pale skin of his abdomen until he takes the liberty to pull the fabric off himself. Aki has always been pretty – like a girl, like you’d told him before. He was also remarkably boyish. The shy type. He’d seem to grow muscles over the past year, his lean figure always hidden by the uniform.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he huffs.

“Get uglier, then,” you roll your eyes, pulling at the zipper of his jeans.

He lets you handle him like a doll.

“Thought you’d be rougher,” you whisper.

“You’ve… thought about this before?” he asks.

You blink at him, then look away.

“Once or twice.”

“I’m not gonna be rough with you,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Not when you got stabbed earlier today.”

“Told you I’m a masochist,” you chuckle dryly. You strip off your slacks, showing off your less-than-sexy cotton underwear. He grazes your core, the wet patch growing larger with your slick.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, mesmerized. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you, lust transparent on his face. It humiliated you, for some reason — you were always used to it rough and fast, your vision blurred while you took cock that you didn’t give a shit about. This was different. This was real.

You put your fingers in his mouth again, pinning him down. He moans when you spit on the head of his cock, palming him gently. Taming him.

You slide your panties off of your legs and do the same with his briefs. When you hover over him, your throat feels tight. He keeps looking at you like you created him. Like you were the world itself.

His tip catches on the slick of your cunt, circling your entrance. Your blood boils, every ventricle in your body sparking to life. You feel him buck his hips, desperate and rutting.

“Use me,” he groans, muffled from your fingers on his tongue.

You sink down on him and his eyes roll back. You remove your fingers from his mouth to toy with your clit, whimpering at the sensation of him filling you up. He was bigger than you expected.

Aki shudders from sensitivity. Alcohol usually numbs his senses, but he can feel all of you, how hot and tight you are. It’s driving him mad. He hiccups through moans, his throat raw.

Your cunt pulses as you grind on him, trembling above him as you try to keep your hips from stuttering too much. Already, you were about to fall apart.

“Fuck,” Aki mutters.

Your hand grazes his face and jaw, and he leans into your palm to kiss it earnestly. Your face burns as you tangle your fingers in his raven hair. When he rises to kiss you, you pull his strands while your other hand holds him back by his shoulder. He groans and thrusts upward into you, holding your hips so that your thighs are flush against his.

Your pulse throbs against the cave of your chest. Aki is desperate to kiss you, to get his tongue in your mouth, so he uses your own trick on you – pulls you in with force and grabs a fistful of your hair. You moan into his mouth, tapering off into a whimper, and you feel him let out a breathy laugh in between kisses.

Aki lets himself be a little loud — no one else was home, and fucking you was cathartic. He squeezes the fat of your thigh, his lunacy suppressed into his tight fists. Entranced by the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick.

You whimper as your knees start to get rug burn, the skin as raw as the love bites on your neck. Your stomach stirs, ecstasy boiling in the pit. You could pretend it was love from the way he gripped you.

“You’re fucking tight,” he grunts.

“Do you like it?” you rasp. You almost sound like you’re begging.

He nods and holds your face, his other hand making an imprint on your waist. Aki was so much taller than you — his size didn’t register until now, the way he was forcing your chin up to look up into his eyes.

He can barely speak, only letting out choked moans and heavy breaths. You look so vulnerable despite being on top of him. He could picture it now, your thighs shaking with arms outstretched to him in morning light. Bare-faced and illuminated, not a bruise on your body. Happy in another life.

“Fuck, Aki,” you moan.

“Again,” he breathes.

“What?”

“Say my name again. Like that.” Like you love me.

“A-Aki,” you whine, gasping for air. “Close.”

A rush of blood to the head. He almost wants to tell you he loves you, force you to say it back to him in between swapping spit. Even if it was just pretend.

You writhe as you cum. Heat-struck by the coil breaking in your stomach. It was like he was melting your insides. He feels your cunt twitch and spills into you with a groan, nose buried in your hair.

He winces as he pulls out of you, his cum getting the carpet wet. He’ll have to clean it up later. He breathes heavily and looks anywhere but your face.

“Lie down with me,” you whisper.

So he does, face to face with you, his arm loose over your waist. He wants to kiss you, but he assumes you’ve had your fill. He wonders if you’ll ever toy with him like that again. He hates himself for how badly he wants it.

But then you look at him, your eyes searching his for meaning. Unspoken words.

“You okay, baby?”

He’s shocked at the nickname, blushing like he didn’t just fuck you to the moon and back.

He nods, blinking rapidly when you stroke his jaw gently. Branding him with tenderness. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with you. He didn’t want to be a sycophant, but he still felt attached to you, and it would only get worse from here. Stuck on his heart like chewed gum.

“Angel boy,” you sigh, hazed. You’re still a little drunk. “Pretty.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”

“What are you, then?”

He says nothing. You smile. The warmth in his chest is immeasurable. It aches like a wound that never heals. He supposes that’s what you are for him. But what is he?

“Yours.”

#aki hayakawa smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa x you #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw man fanfiction #csm smut #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x reader #csm x you #csm x reader

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 2 years

Text

Found myself thinking about Eddie being insecure because he doesn't see himself as Steve's type, and sees the people who flirt with him and well...

Just picture it with me.

Eddie and Steve have been together for a bit. Maybe like, a few months, but they were technically together before, inseparable in the most annoying gooey way. And things are GOOD. Eddie's never been happier.

The way Steve's been so patient with him. Eddie has no idea how relationships work, let alone the sex stuff. He's totally inexperienced. He's maybe kissed a few people before Steve. But not much else.

And Steve is.. so sweet to him. Always asking if he's okay, if this or that touch is alright. Eddie had literally cum in his fucking pants one night, so fast, embarrassingly fast. But Steve had climbed into his lap and he just... couldn't handle it.

He'd been so fucking embarrassed, but Steve had just held him. Not letting him run to the bathroom like he'd wanted too. He had let Eddie hide his face in his neck though, pressed kisses into Eddie's hair until he calmed down.

And THEN he'd let him get up and clean himself off. But only after he made sure Eddie knew he didn't have to be embarrassed.

Steve didn't tell him then, but it made him feel a little crazy. And he definitely hadn't made a plan to make Eddie do it again, needing to hear that sweet little sound that lodged itself in Eddie's throat as his hands grabbed at Steve. He felt like he could fucking fly for the rest of the night.

But it had been a rough couple weeks for Eddie. He'd walked into family video twice this week to see beautiful girls trailing after Steve, big moony, hopeful eyes, as Steve pointed out a few movie options, looking bored.

And Eddie knew he wasn't interested in these girls, or the odd guy who would come in, maybe flirt a little. Steve never returned any of the advances, just gave them his tight cutomer service smile. A smile Eddie and Robin constantly made fun of him for.

But he'd been talking to Robin about some french movie, he'd actually done pretty well in french, so he let Robin force him to sit through movies that he could vaguely understand.

But he'd glanced at Steve, just the briefest look, and had seen a pretty brunette touching his arm and laughing. And Steve had chuckled, a little, and that's fine. Eddie doesn't care if he has friends, it's not... that's not it. Not the issue.

Because Eddie loves Steve's laugh, it's not even about Steve, because Eddie's focus is never on Steve in the these moments. It's always on the beautiful people talking to Steve. Flirting with Steve.

Eddie's eyes linger on the girl's hair, it looks a bit like his, more curls, falling beautifully down her back. Her eyes are pretty, the slope of her nose is nice, and she's got a good laugh too, bubbly, pretty. Eddie swallows hard, notices Steve's eyes on him over the girls shoulder. Steve waves, smiles, leaves the girl behind as he walks toward Eddie.

His palms are sweating as Steve walks over, smiling. He steps behind the counter next to Robin, leans his elbows on it, toward Eddie, into his space. Eddie sighs, can't help but smile.

"Hey Eds, we still on for movie night?" He asks, tapping his fingers against the movie Eddie had brought to the counter, not paying attention to what it was. They never ended up watching the movie anyway. Eddie nods.

"Yeah of course. I was just, grabbing it." His head feels fuzzy, lost in thought. Steve frowns.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head, pins on the best smile he can manage.

"Yeah. All good. We're doin pizza again too right?" He asks, sliding the movie off the counter and walking backwards to the door. Steve smiles again, believing Eddie's fragile cover.

"Watch out for the-" Robin calls, her hand raised.

"Oof-" Eddie huffs as his back slams into the-

"Door." Robin and Steve say together. Eddie grimaces a small smile and waves, ducking out the door. Robin and Steve laughing as they get back to work.

~°~

They're on the couch, movie forgotten, like always. Steve is sitting in Eddie's lap, hands in his hair, fingers moving against his scalp soothingly as he kisses down Eddie's neck. And Eddie's trying to be into it, wants to be, he is. On one level.

But his thoughts have been racing all day, images of all those beautiful people flirting with Steve. Who is the most fucking beautiful person Eddie's ever goddamn met. And he's sitting in his fucking lap, offering himself to Eddie like he always fucking does. And Eddie is just, is so... distracted.

His hands are resting on Steve's thighs, his headed tilted, giving Steve access to his neck, but he just, he can't focus. Steve's mouth stops, presses a small kiss to his collar bone, and then he's leaning back, resting his butt on Eddie's knees as he looks down at him.

"You okay Ed's?" Steve asks, his voice soft, his touch even softer as his thumbs rest on Eddie's neck. Eddie blinks up at him, licks his lips, opens his mouth, closes it, and nods, his fingers squeezing Steve's thigh as he leans up, tries to kiss Steve, change the subject.

Steve's hand on his chest presses him back down, into the couch, Eddie makes a little noise, Steve smiles, but his eyes are concerned.

"Hey. What's goin on in that head? You've been so quiet. Like... all day." Steve says, his hands back on Eddie's neck, his eyes soft as he waits for Eddie to answer.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Eddie asks, cringes when his voice sounds... bitter? Steve's eyes widen.

"Whoa. What?" He asks, scooting forward a little, setting on Eddie's thighs instead of perching on his knees, getting more comfortable. Eddie shakes his head, bites his lip. Huffs at himself, because he feels like he's about to fucking cry.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's happening?" Steve asks, his hands moving up, thumbs moving over Eddie's cheeks, keeping him facing Steve.

"Nothin. Everything's fine. I'm just- nothing." He tries to smile, knows it doesn't reach his eyes, and Steve droops, bringing him ever closer.

"Eddie. Your hands haven't moved since I got on top of you. You haven't touched my ass once. Not even when I did that tongue thing you like." Steve says, cautious. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I don't like it that much." He shakes his head, keeping his eyes OFF Steve, though he's still cradling his face.

"You whimper every time I do it. And you grabbed my ass hard enough to leave bruises. So I've got proof." Steve teases, rubbing his nose along Eddie's. Eddie heart thumps, he did really like it. Fuckin Steve. He huffs, rolls his eyes again and then moves them back to Steve.

"Just tell me what's wrong." He kisses his forhead, rests his head there after.

"Please." He whispers, his hands moving back into Eddie's hair, scratching at his scalp the way he knows Eddie likes, it relaxes him. He sighs, melts into Steve's touch and clears his throat. Because he doesn't wanna say it. It's stupid. He feels stupid.

"It's stupid." He shakes his head. Steve's brow furrows.

"I'm sure it's not." He says. Eddie swallows hard again, the lump in his throat starting to burn.

"Why me?" And he sounds, small, even to himself, can't imagine how he sounds to Steve, so he closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the couch. Steve is quiet, for a moment.

"What do you mean why you?" He asks, Eddie opens his eyes to see Steve's confused face, his eyes off to the side, looking at the couch, thinking. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his face and tries again, Steve's eyes jump to him, concerned.

"I just- I guess I just- I mean you could have anybody." His voice cracks, he takes his hands off Steve's thighs, rests them on his own stomach instead.

"I just don't understand." Eddie shakes his head. Steve moves his hands, settles them over Eddie's.

"I uh... I guess." Steve says, slowly, uncertain.

"Eddie look at me."

Eddie doesn't. Steve laughs, snorts really, and grabs Eddie's cheeks, gentle with his scars. He moves Eddie's face until Eddie can't not look at him.

"Hi." Steve says, small smile starting to bloom.

"Hi." Eddie huffs, crosses his arms, they bump Steve, jostle him a bit.

"Eddie I don't want anyone else. I want you. You know that right?" Steve asks, his face so close, his eyes so fucking earnest. Eddie nods. Because he does, he does know that. He tries to look away, just moves his eyes as Steve holds his head still.

"I know. I know that. I just-" he takes a shakey breath, fights the sob that's threating to bubble out of his throat.

"I don't know why." Eddie says, and it's a whine when it leaves him, his throat is too tight for it to be anything else.

"All these beautiful people flirt with you, like... all the time. And I know you don't care about that. I know that! But I see them, and the way they look at you, and I just... I don't understand why you picked me. Over that. Over them? I- I'm not..." Steve wipes the tears away from his cheeks but stays silent, lets him keep talking.

"They're all so beautiful. And you're so beautiful. And you just- it's like you don't even see them? And then fucking come here to be with me and I just don't understand why!?" Eddie's voice is loud now, his hands flailing at his sides as Steve keeps his hands on Eddie, they're on his shoulders now. His thumbs soothing against Eddie's collarbones. Eddie's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, his face his wet, and Steve is fucking looking down at him like he fucking hung the stars.

"Why are you looking at me like that." Eddie's voice squeaks. Steve's smile just gets bigger and bigger.

"What?" Eddie's hands grab at his waist, tickling him enough that Steve's concentration breaks, and he laughs, once, before he grabs at Eddie's shirt and brings them face to face again, so close. His nose moving against Eddie's again before he pulls back a bit.

"I um... I love you." He says, biting his lip, his cheeks going red as he looks down at Eddie. And Eddie's heart thuds in his ears. There's... he wasn't expecting that. Steve's never said that to him before. He's said, lots of things, lots of very nice and sweet and filthy, other things. But never that.

"I- you?" Eddie's brow furrows.

"Yeah." Steve nods, more confident now.

"I love you. And yeah, people flirt with me sometimes, and yeah they're pretty. But they're not you. You're fucking breathtaking to me. And I just... want you. Because I love you." Steve shrugs, like it's the fucking simplest thing in the world.

"You love me?" Eddie asks, his brain feels like it's trying to walk through fucking quicksand. Steve snorts.

"Yes. Idiot." He breathes, lowers himself into Eddie's space, kisses him, sweetly. Pulls back, smiles as Eddie's hands scramble against the back of his sweater.

"That's more like it." Steve breathes, tries to kiss Eddie again, frowns when Eddie moves his hands to his chest and holds him back. Eddie feels like he's gonna cry again, he looks up at Steve, blinks.

"I-"

"You don't have to say it." Steve cuts him off.

"But I want to. I- I do." Eddie sniffles, Steve wipes at his face again, rests his head against Eddie's.

"Well go on then." He teases, holding Eddie's neck, he scoots closer, presses himself harder into Eddie's lap. Eddie sucks in a breath, his fingers clawing at Steve's thighs now.

"C'mon Ed's, tell me." He whispers, one hand moving down Eddie's side, his fingers dipping under Eddie's shirt, he moans at the contact.

"Fuck I love you. So much." Eddie breathes, his hands moving to Steve's ass, fingers digging in, pulling him closer. Steve hums happily, rolls his hips.

"There he is." Steve breathes into Eddie's neck, his lips dragging over Eddie's skin, making him shiver.

"I do though. I love you." Eddie's voice is steady now, certain. Steve leans back again, smiling softly at him.

"I know." He says, eyebrows jumping on his forhead. Eddie gasps, dramatic.

"Oh you fucker." Eddie whispers, fists his hand in Steve's shirt and drags him foward, their noses bumping roughly.

"You love it." Steve whispers against his lips before licking into his mouth, smiling against Eddie's lips as he moans in affirmation.

Eddie's heart pounds in his chest as Steve's hands move up under his shirt, holding him closer, his entire body flushing as Steve touches him, rolls his hips into him with purpose, making Eddie whimper as he holds on, his fingers digging into Steve the way he knows Steve likes, all thoughts of anyone else gone from his mind.

Steve kisses down his neck again, smirks into Eddie's skin as he rolls his hips one more time, pushing Eddie over the egde again, for the second time, smiling into Eddie's shirt as that perfect little noise hits his ears. Eddie clinging to him as Steve shows him he has no fucking need to worry about anyone else. Eddie is it for him.

Always.

Probably forever.

As long as Eddie will have him.

#fates endless inkwell #fei #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #inexperienced eddie munson #my writing #mine #my fic

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pure-smut · 2 months

Text

pain and pleasure.

featuring: Coach Ukai x f!reader

contains: virgin!reader, college coach!Ukai, dubcon/noncon (reader is defo coerced), reader dumbification, power imbalance, missionary, groping, Ukai is not a good guy in this I'm sorry!!!

note: all characters are over 18!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

You can pinpoint the exact day Coach Ukai smiled at you differently than usual. His face remained as serious as always but there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. A hunger. You didn’t recognise it at the time but you flush regardless.

You haven’t been on the college volleyball team for long but you practiced four times a week, so you see Ukai often. His t-shirt is fitted against his broad chest and you would sometimes gaze at his forearms, not sure why you enjoy them so much but savouring them anyway. He’s the kind of coach that girls swoon over, giggling and whispering to each other, “He’s so hot!”. So, when you looks at you, hungry, you’re flattered and smile back.

“Y/N,” he calls as the team files out. “I need a word with you.”

“Oooh.” The rest of the team laugh as you blush furiously. “Y/N’s in trouble!”

It’s true you had missed a couple of spikes and you’re still working on your receive but nothing you think you’d get in trouble for. You linger awkwardly, tugging at the hem of your jersey as everyone leaves. Coach Ukai cocks his head.

“Relax, Y/N,” he says. “You’re not in trouble.”

He crosses his arms and trails his eyes over you. It’s not the first time you’ve seen that look in a man but it’s the first time it’s caused butterflies to break out in your stomach. You lower your eyes, wishing you could shake off your awkwardness. But you have to admit, you’re enjoying his laser-focussed attention, even if you don’t know what to do with it.

“However,” Ukai breaks the silence. “You haven’t been making the progress I expect from you.”

“Oh.” You glance up, crestfallen at the idea of disappointing him, but he doesn’t look overly displeased. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Ukai crosses the few steps between you. He’s close enough to make your heart start thumping.

“It’s nothing serious – I think you need to work on the theory more,” he explains, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m happy to tutor you in the evenings.”

You swallow, unsure what to say. Have you really been doing so badly you need extra tutoring. You manage to make yourself match his eye contact, aware of how much taller he is than you.

“Here’s my address,” he says, apparently unbothered by your uncertaintly, and passes you a piece of paper. “Come around at six.”

“Of course, sir.” You clutch the paper to your chest and leave quickly, breathless.

It’s a warm evening so you wear your sundress as you arrive at Coach Ukai’s house. He ushers you in quickly, showing you to his living room. When he offers you a glass of wine, you’re not sure but you want him to think you’re sophisticated so you agree.

You expect to sit at a desk but instead, he guides you to the couch where you both sit down. Ukai’s wearing an easy smile as he rests his arm on the back of the couch.

“You’re getting on well with the team,” he remarks as you take a small sip of wine.

“Yeah, I think so.” You nod, not sure what to do with your hands so taking another drink. “We’re friends.”

“And we’re friends too, right, Y/N?”

You nearly choke on the wine. Ukai smiles at you with that hunger in his eyes again. Not for the first time, you feel like prey under a predators’ gaze.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

“I’d like to be more than friends.” He reaches out to brush a thumb across your cheek.

He’s so close you can smell his cologne. It’s intoxicating.

“More than friends?” you breathe. Your heart thumps against your ribcage.

“But it would need to be a secret,” he whispers, his face inches from yours. “Can you do that?”

“Yes.” You nod, closing your eyes. “I’d do anything for you, sir.”

Ukai’s lips are on yours, the roughness of his stubble at odds with the softness of his mouth. It warms every inch of you. He cups your face and pushes you back on the couch, putting both your glasses of wine to the side. You feel so small under his large form, so completely powerless under the weight of him.

Ukai kisses you deeply, hungrily, but with a slowness that suggests he’s savouring it. You arch your back, feeling so desired you want to close every inch between you.

“Good girl,” Ukai moans, moving from your mouth to your neck.

Thrilled, you raise your chin, allowing him better access to the delicate skin of your neck. He licks across your windpipe, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. His hand moves from your face down to the neckline of your dress, tugging it down. You only remember you’re braless when you feel the rough callouses of his hand as it closes over your breast.

“W-wait,” you gasp. “I’m not sure about this.”

You had never gone this far with anyone before, let alone someone fifteen years your senior. A stab of fear cuts through your excitement. But Ukai only continues to fondle you, his mouth on your neck.

“You wanted this,” he breathes against the shell of your ear. His fingers pinch your nipple in a way that sends a jolt through your body. “You came in here with no bra on, teasing me.”

Ukai’s words conflict you. Are you being a tease? Are you being unfair by flaunting your breasts and not allowing him to touch them?

Coach Ukai pays no mind to your hesitation, pulling down the neckline of your dress to expose both of your tits to him. You inhale sharply, the most exposed and vulnerable you’ve ever felt with someone. You automatically raise an arm to cover yourself but he grabs your wrist, pinning it above you. You struggle against him.

“Please, sir,” you beg.

“You’ve been throwing yourself at me.” He kisses your neck with a gentleness that contradicts with his rough words. “You want this so you can stop pretending and just enjoy it.”

You give one last struggle before giving up, deflated at his superior strength and his words. You had wanted this. How many girls would kill to be in this position with Ukai right now? He’s right. You teased him so it’s only fair you let him have his way.

Ukai feels you sag against him and kisses your lips again. You kiss him back.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You nod, tears threatening to spill.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it feel good,” Ukai assures you.

He repositions himself between your legs, forcing them apart, your dress riding up to your hips. You can’t ignore the hardness presses against your mound and you’re thankful you kept your panties on, if not your bra.

Coach Ukai moves his mouth down to your nipples, capturing one in his mouth and sucking with his hand massages the soft flesh. Despite your fear, your body is getting aroused and you know you’re wet already. Your clit throbs and you find yourself grinding against his hardness, your hips moving on their own.

“You want it, baby?” Ukai pulls his mouth away and unbuckles his belt.

You nod, tears finally spilling. You hate yourself for it but you’re start to become desperate to orgasm. Ukai pulls down his jeans and boxers, just low enough for his cock to spring free. You look down but can’t see much in the semi-darkness and through your wet lashes. But you do feel it slap against your clit, causing you to involuntarily arch your back.

“Look at you spreading your legs for me,” Ukai groans, running a finger along my clothed pussy. “Look at how wet you are for your coach’s cock.”

Ukai hooks a finger under your panties and pulls them to the side, his eyes fixed on your glistening lips. A grin plays on his lips.

“You really want it.”

He doesn’t phrase it as a question but you nod anyway.

“Yes, sir. Please.”

You feel a pressure on your pussy as Ukai lines the fat head of his cock up with your entrance, keeping your panties pulled out of the way. He smears his precum against your lips, mixing with your arousal.

“If you want to stay on the team, you’re gonna have these tutoring sessions with me every week,” Ukai instructs you.

His thumb strokes your swollen clit, sending sparks through your body.

“Oh, god…” you moan, so close to cumming you can’t think straight.

“Understand?”

“Yes, sir. Yes. Please, sir.”

You buck your hips against his thumb but he uses his other hand to press your hips against the couch, keeping you still. He keeps up the steady circles on your clit, his thumb slick with your juices, and begins to push himself inside you.

You expected your first time to hurt but it doesn’t. You feel Ukai stretch you but you’re so wet, it only provides further stimulation. He pushes himself slightly further before pulling out and sliding back in again, going deeper each time. The combination of his cock stroking in and out of you and his rubbing your clit sends you over the edge.

Your body tenses as waves and waves of pleasure course through you. Coach Ukai keeps up his steady rhythm through your orgasm, keeping you pinned against the sofa. He groans as your slick, hot walls contract around his cock, squeezing him tight.

“Good girl,” he grunts, only removing his thumb when you start to whimper from overstimulation.

He leans forward, grabbing the armrest of the couch to leverage himself as he starts to pound at you. His hips snap against the back of your thighs as he buries himself as deep as he can go. Ukai’s previous measured tenderness has gone, replaced with animalistic desire.

His calloused hands grope your breasts roughly as they bounce under the force of his fucking. He slaps them and pinches your nipples, enjoying the feel of your firm flesh under his palm.

You let him do what he wants, still dazed from creaming on his cock, obediently keeping your legs spread for him.

“So fucking tight, fuck.”

Ukai’s breathing quickens, his cock throbbing inside you. You don’t have time to realise what’s happening, that he’s not wearing a condom, before he buries himself to the hilt and spills inside you. Your half-lidded eyes snap open as you feel him, hot and sticky as he coats your walls with a groan.

Ukai collapses on top of you, his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper. “Thank you for fucking me.”

Ukai raises his head to kiss you, his softness returning.

“Every week, you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #coach ukai x reader #coach ukai x you #coach ukai smut #coach ukai x yn #ukai smut #ukai x reader #ukai x you #ukai x y/n #tw dubcon #tw noncon #tw coercion

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doctorbitchcrxft · 7 months

Text

Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 4833

A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.

You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared.

About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt.

You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands.

You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car.

‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.

Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being.

Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car.

“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you.

“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.

‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’

“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.

“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.

‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”

The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”

The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked.

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”

“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off.

“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away.

***

After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks.

‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’

The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink.

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament.

You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in.

You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny.

“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”

Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in.

“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.

It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’

“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave.

You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car.

“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.

“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”

“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied.

“Look, man—” you started.

“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”

“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised.

Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”

“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”

The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”

“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it.

“Oh-kay,” you muttered.

“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”

“A bit touchy?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed.

“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked.

“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”

“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”

“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head.

“Well, do you know anything about the case?”

“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”

“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.

“Okay, then what?”

***

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along.

“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.

“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

“What’s Monday?” you asked.

“I’ve got an interview with law school.”

“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled.

Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

“No, and she's not ever going to know.”

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge.

“And who's that?”

“You're one of us,” Dean said.

Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.

“You have a responsibility to—”

Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.

“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.

“Guys!”

“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing.

The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”

“No idea,” Dean answered.

Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights.

“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.

“Who's driving your car?” you asked him.

He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them.

“Oh.”

The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible.

“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.

‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’

“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”

“What?” came his aggravated response.

You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.

“I’m super,” his brother responded.

You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door.

“Your car okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”

Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process.

Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”

***

Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room.

Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together.

“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall.

‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.

His brother turned around.

“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”

Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are strange.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom.

You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean.

“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.

He smiled sadly at it.

After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”

“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”

“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.

“I’m sure you are,” you smiled.

“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his.

“Meh, not much to tell.”

“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted.

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”

“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again.

“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.

“You sound like Dean.”

“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—”

You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest.

He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?”

You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said.

“A burger would be great,” you told him.

“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”

“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him.

You shook your head. “Dick.”

Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out.

“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.

“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”

“Shit.”

Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.

“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.

Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.

***

You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive.

After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops.

Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear.

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”

“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped.

“Don’t objectify me.”

“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”

“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”

“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation.

You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.”

Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”

“No,” Sam answered.

You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward.

“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him.

“It’s not me.”

You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off.

“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up.

The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”

‘That’s it.’

“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully.

“Sam!”

Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her.

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”

You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala’s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you.

You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots.

“Sam!”

“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled.

Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest.

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car.

‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought.

The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window.

“I think,” Sam responded weakly.

“Can you move?” you asked.

“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother.

Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”

You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car.

You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs.

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor.

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau.

Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.

Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.”

You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly.

“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly.

“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid.

“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”

“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head.

“No, no, I shouldn’t—”

“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”

A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college.

***

The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute.

“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat.

“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”

“True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.

“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map.

“About 600 miles,” he answered.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in.

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”

The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.

“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.

“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist.

Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex.

You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat.

Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded.

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”

Sam patted the car door twice before turning away.

“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay.

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.”

Dean then began to drive off.

The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped.

“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail.

He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.

The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment.

Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom.

You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex.

It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed.

You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say.

Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.

You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly.

‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Seductive. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, smut, p in v sex, rough sex, age gap, (let me know if I missed any)

(Summary): Reader takes some advice from a friend on base and seduces her Captain.

(This has been in my drafts for forever, I hope you like it.)

Your eyes narrow as you look upon her, very clear fake laugh leaving her lips as she places her hand on his shoulder. He doesn't notice, but you do. You can see the look in his eyes as she does, what she's doing. It's working. She walks away from him and makes her way over to you. You're sitting at a table in the mess hall, sandwich in hand.

“What are you doing?” You ask your only friend on the base you worked on. Her name was Katy, the only tolerable female on base. She might've been a little bit of a barracks bunny but you usually ignored that. She was nice and funny and you got along with her quite well.

“What?” She says. “You’re totally trying to seduce him.” You laugh. After witnessing her chatting up your commander. “Yeah? So?” Your eyes widen. “What the hell. You whore.” She shoves you. “Oh come on, don’t be such a prude.” She rolls her eyes. “Katy. You know you can’t have relations on base.” You chuckle. “What they don’t know won’t hurt em.” She smirks. “You’re not interested in anyone at all?” She asks. “No.” You say, confused. “Lame. I was going to tell you how to get what you want.” She smirks. You roll your eyes. “I’ll let you know if I ever need your expertise, but you know I’m leaving soon.” She scoffs. “I know. It’s bullshit, you’re supposed to stay here with me.” She pouts. “It’s only for 6 months and I’ll be back.” You chuckle.

You’d been recruited for task force 141, and you were leaving in a couple of weeks. She was very upset that you were leaving but you were excited for something new. After finishing up lunch, the both of you returned to your posts. You weren't sure how you got recommended to be in task force 141, you hadn't even met anyone apart of it besides the few time's you talked to Laswell, but it wasn't her task force. It was different and you weren't sure if you were ready for it.

The two weeks leading up to the day you were leaving, were crazy. Almost every single day Katy convinced you to go out, you spent almost 2 full weeks hungover at work. It was awful, but it was some of the most fun you’d ever had. The time seemed to drag on, you were nervous and excited at the same time for something different. You were waiting on a bench patiently for your helicopter to arrive, the one that'd be taking you away. Katy was sitting next to you. Talking to you before you'd inevitably leave. She was worried but she'd never show it. She was good at hiding her emotions. She had been through a lot before she entered the military, so she was good at concealment. When the helicopter arrived, she gave you a hug and you finished your goodbye's to the other few acquaintances you had on base. They were sad to see you go, and they were worried as well. 141 went on some crazy missions and they were worried about you. "Don't get dead." Katy smiles, you could see the hurt in her eyes.

She was upset when you left but she’d be okay. She had guys on base to keep her company while you were gone anyways.

The ride to the base task force 141 was on took quite a few hours. They were off in the middle of nowhere in Iran. Working toward eliminating Hassan Zyani. The Iranian terrorist.

When you arrived on base, it was pretty early in the morning. "Hi." A man smiles. He's attractive, very attractive. You smile and take his outstretched hand. Shaking it. "I'm Captain John Price. It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles. His accent takes you a little off guard, forgetting that this base is going to have Military from all over. "Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N." You smile. He nods his head. "I've heard a lot about you. A lot about how sharp you are for your age." He smiles. "Really? I didn't know that people talked about me." You chuckle. "Oh they do. It's nice having you here Y/N, I'll show you around.” He spins around on his heels and you know you'll fit in just fine here.

Your first few weeks with 141 were busy. Nonstop missions, always up to something. If you weren’t out on a mission, you were inside of an office helping people out with research and all kinds of paperwork. You spent a lot of time with your Captain and Laswell. They enjoyed your company and your expertise with technology. Your relationship with each of the members of 141, and those in alliance with 141 were close knit. You got along so well with everyone right away and they took you in as one of their own. Joking and playing with Soap, but knowing he’d ring someone’s neck for you. Slight gestures that always made Ghost smile under his mask. Sharing sweets with him, laughing when he didn’t like it and would spit it out. Catching him smoking with his mask slightly lifted. Him threatening to kill you if you tell anyone. His eyes would darken and he’d glare if someone said something slightly aggressive to you. Playing small pranks on everyone with Gaz, he was like your evil twin. But the couple times Price got stern with you he was always there to help the situation. Usually a “take it easy cap, she’s new.”

But you didn’t really mind when he got stern with you. If you needed correction, you’d take the advice.

The only thing that really started to bother you, was the growing feelings you felt for your Captain. You didn’t figure he’d go after you, significant age gap, the job you both worked in. It just seemed impossible. You wondered if he was married but ended up asking if he had any kids and he said no, he’d never even been married. Your heart jumped. Literally wanted to beat out of your chest in excitement. He was single. Your only concern now was the significant age gap. If he didn’t mind, you definitely didn’t mind.

You spent many nights up late, daydreaming. You thought about the way he smelled, the way he has to taste on your tongue. The way his facial hair would scratch at the skin between your legs. You were groggy most days but managed to hide it. Your Captain always kept everything professional with you. He never gave you a reason to have such a growing crush on him despite his protectiveness. He was a little rough around the edges, raised his voice sometimes, very stern. You day dreamt about that too, how rough he could be. His calloused hands moving with the curves of your body. Sometimes you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face, get him out of your head. But not even an ice bath would take away the growing heat you felt between your legs when you thought about him. You suffered like this for longer than you liked to admit. Longing stares at him during meetings. Constant concern about him on missions. It was getting a little dangerous how you felt about him.

You sat on the edge of your bed. It was pretty late at night. You were running out of options. You had one left, and you were growing desperate. With a sigh, you pull your phone out. Quickly dialing her number.

“Hey Katy.” You smile as she answered. “Y/N! Hi! How is everything?” She asks. “Everything is great, but I need advice.” You laugh. “Oh? With what?”

You take a deep breath, standing up and stepping further into your room to ensure nobody would hear you. “Do you remember when you said to ask you, ‘when I wanted to get what I want’ you remember that?” You say. She squeals through the phone. “You like somebody? You’re going to try to seduce them? You whore.” She laughs. “Yeah, if I told you who it was you’d probably freak.” She looks confused but you can’t see it. “What?”

“It’s my Captain.” She gasps. “Y/N! You little minx!” She laughs. “Just.. tell me how to do it.” You breathe. “Okay okay.” She laughs.

“First, start being friendly. When he makes a joke, put your hand on his shoulder, on his knee if you’re sitting next to him. You can fake a laugh, but don’t be obvious.” She says. “I’m listening.” You smile. “Your base isn’t that strict right?” She asks. “No?” She smiles on the other end of the line. “In the morning, before you put your uniform on, go out to get coffee. I’ve done it before in just a tank top and shorts. But you have to track his pattern so you know where he’ll be. Make sure he’s in the room, you don’t wanna seduce the wrong one yknow?” She laughs. “When you’re training, just wear a sports bra and shorts. Tight shorts. Ask him to help you train, and don’t be afraid to make some suspicious noises when you’re working out.” She smirks. “When you’re stretching, whimper. They like that.” You’re laughing. “You seem to know a lot about this.” You laugh. “Of course I do.” She rolls her eyes. You take a deep breath. “Start with those, and I’ll think of some more.” She giggles. “Okay. You’re a life saver.” After some more sly words from her, you talk a little more about everything going on. Once you’re done, you say your goodbyes and hang up.

The nervousness you felt in the morning after the conversation with her was almost too much to bare. You made your way into the mess hall, shorts and a tight tank top just like she said. You knew your Captain didn’t sleep all that well so he was always the first awake. You make your way into the kitchen, your eyes burned from being tired but you needed this. Needed him to pay attention to you. When you step into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes tiredly, his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He has to stop himself from choking on his coffee. He had never seen you dressed like this before. He has to kick himself for acting like a horny teenage boy, it was pathetic. You don't notice anything different about him as you finish getting your coffee, mumbling a small 'good morning' to him.

Over the next couple of weeks, you do as she says. When he'd make you laugh in any way, you'd put a light hand on his shoulder or thigh if you were sitting next to him. You'd come out nearly every morning in something revealing. He didn't seem to show any interest in you which sucked. You started to think maybe he just wasn't interested in you, but after more conversations with Katy, she said to keep up and not let up quite yet. To keep doing it for a while. So you did. It didn't take much to do it anyways.

“Morning Captain.” You say tiredly. “Good morning.” He smiles. He breathes out. He didn’t expect this, the way you looked under your gear. “Why are you awake so early Ah?” He asks. “Didn’t sleep good. Was thinking about working out but Soap is usually my spotter and I know he’s not awake yet.” You sigh. You laugh, sitting across from him at the table. You needed to try something else, so why not this? John perks up. “I could spot you if you need help.” He breathes. He’s trying not to sound too eager. “Oh I’d hate to ask you to do that..” you say innocently. “Oh, it’s no problem. I don’t mind.” He smiles. “Okay. I’ll go get changed and I’ll meet you in the gym?” He nods his head. “Sounds good sweetheart.”

You walk quickly to your room, changing into an even more revealing outfit. You wait around in the gym, doing your usual workout routine. When your Captain comes in, he freezes when he sees you. Sports bra, even tighter shorts. He breathes out, trying to collect his thoughts. Was he really this deprived? Thinking this way about you?

He sets all of his belongings down and makes his way over to you. “Ready?” He asks. Standing over the bench press. You nod your head. "You've stretched already right?" He asks. You nod your head with a smile. You lay down and get adjusted onto it. You grasp the bar, lifting it off of the rack and beginning to lift it up. “Let me know when it gets to be too much.” He says. You nod your head trying to breath through it. Katy’s words echo in your ear.

You start small, small breaths of air leaving your lips, and you get a tiny bit louder, very small moans escape your lips and you don't notice anything at first but as your whimpers got louder, breaths of air leaving your lips with each raise you do, you finally catch it. John stepping back. Having to adjust his hardening cock. The tightening he felt was uncomfortable and he couldn’t take it. You notice this action, having to stop yourself from smiling. It was fucking working.

Katy you devil.

You hang up the bar, struggling a little as you did so. “Did good Y/N.” He smiles. “Thank you, I’m trying.” You laugh. Your body had a slight sheen of sweat. He could see the way your cleavage looked. Beads of sweat. You probably tasted so sweet, he wanted to run his tongue along your skin. He has to shake the thoughts away. So dirty. It was fucking working. You were so surprised. John works out alongside you for only a few minutes longer before excusing himself to go do 'work' which you knew wasn't true. He was rock hard and needed relief, or at least to get away from you. The moment he leaves the Gym, you're picking up your phone to give Katy a call.

When she picks up, the first words out of your mouth are "It fucking worked!" to which she laughs. She asks if you hooked up but of course you say "Not yet." following this up by telling her what had happened with the Gym.

"Maybe you should surprise him in his office if that's where he went. Might walk in on a little something." She laughs. You laugh, shrugging it off. After a little more conversation, you make your way to his office. Maybe she was right. Maybe you might. As you approach you don't hear anything. But you think, he might hear your footsteps and it would be awkward for you to walk away, it'd seem suspicious. So without thinking you come up with some kind of lie and walk right into his office. Your breath leaves your body, a gasp leaving your lips. He gasps out, eyes going wide as he rushes to cover himself up. "Fuck, I'm so sorry." You gasp, rushing to cover your eyes. "I'll.. I'll come back later." You mumble. You step out and he groans in frustration, he needed to catch you before you got away.

He scrambles up to follow after you. Opening up his office door. “Wait- Y/N!” He calls after you. You stop immediately, turning around. “Come here.” He breathes. You nod your head immediately, following him back into his office. “I.. what did you need darling?” He asks. His face is blushing red, and he slicks his hair back, he hadn’t even put his hat on. “I.. I was…” you pause for a second. He’s standing right in front of you, hard. Little beads of sweat on his forehead. You glance down, backing up into his office door and closing it behind you. “I was going to ask if you needed any help. But I guess you answered my question.” You smile. His eyes widen at how forward you’re being, but he’s not going to deny this. He’s breathing hard, he seems nervous.

He takes a step forward and smashes his lips against yours, pushing you back into the wall behind you. He’s got a tight grip on you as he kisses you, teeth knocking against yours with the force of his lips moving with yours. He reaches for the shorts you still have on, pushing them down your legs. Once you’re bare, he lifts you up by your thighs, walking you over to his desk and sliding some of his paperwork off to set you down onto it. “Such a fucking temptress.” He breathes. He leans into you and you hold onto him by his neck, kissing him again. He’s got his hand wrapped around your lower back, hips rubbing into yours. The seam of his pants is stimulating you, making you moan out. He unbuttons them, unzipping them and pushing them low enough to expose his cock. Your eyes widen slightly at him. He spits in his hand, lowering his hand to slide it over your hole, earning a gasp from you. He slides his cock right into you, filling you completely full in one thrust. He clamps a hand over your mouth as a cry is about to leave your lips. “Stay quiet for me darling.” He chuckles. He holds it there as he begins fucking you, your body lurching with every hard thrust he takes. He raises your thighs higher up on his hips, pushing you further back into the desk, until the cold wood is pressed right up against your back. You clutch the edge of it, trying your hardest to stay quiet as he hammers his hips into yours.

“Been such a fucking tease-“ he grits his teeth. Holding onto your thighs. “Walking out there in basically nothing in the morning.. wearing those tight clothes- fuck.” He tilts his head back. Groaning out. “I didn’t think it’d work.” You look up at him, lazy smile on your lips. “You seduced me?” He smirks. You bite your lip, staying quiet. He snorts. “Bad girl hm?” He rubs at your clit with his thumb, and you tilt your head back once again. “Bad, bad girl.” He growls. Your knuckles are turning white with how hard you’re holding onto the desk, a death grip as he pounds you. He pushes a hand down around your throat, pushing down on you lightly. “You didn’t have to work too hard at it baby, just didn’t think you’d go for an old man like me.” He chuckles. “Oh… you have no idea.” You smile. You bite your lip lightly, gripping his wrist. He grits his teeth, he’s getting close. He draws his hand back, squeezing your breast, earning a whine from you. “Rub your clit.” He breathes. You look up at him, raising your hand. “Gonna show you how good I can make you feel.” He breathes. He pulls you closer to him, holding your thighs at a good angle. Instead of full thrusts, he starts grinding his cock into you perfectly. He rubs right up against the spongy spot inside of you and a cry leaves your lips.

He wants to tell you to quiet down, but he doesn’t care who hears anymore. You’re his, all his. “Oh my god-“ you cry out, letting your head rest back on his desk. “So tight on me sweetheart.” He grits his teeth. He keeps the steady pace, and your legs shake slightly as he pushes you closer to your high. “I- I’m gonna cum Captain.” You breathe. He smiles, “cum for me baby, that’s a good girl.” He growls. “Keep rubbing your clit.” He breathes. He’s right there too, praying you’ll cum before him. You tilt your head back, body lurching forward as you reach your high, and once he knows he’s ridden it out for you, he starts thrusting again. It only takes a couple until he’s spilling into you with a groan. You’re breathing hard as he helps you up, standing between your legs still.

“You’re a bad girl you know that?” He laughs. You smile. “Just for you though, Captain.”

“Good. Because I’m going to keep you to myself.” He laughs.

This was just the start of something scandalous.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #captain johnathan price #john price #john price x reader #price x reader

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 7 months

Note

Can you write about Ethan fucking reader in missionary and he sees the bulge in her tummy everytime he thrusts inside her and he's just absolutely feral, pressing down on it with his hand to feel himself up in there😵‍💫 pretty please with a cherry on top

HI! Okay, I literally just thought of something along these lines YESTERDAY before I got this request. I was hoping someone would want something like this written. Thank you, and I hope you like it💕

In Too Deep - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Ethan fucks you so hard that he notices something knew about the way you take him.

Contains: Fluff, sexting?, Oral - f!receiving, p in v, rough sex, dom!-ish Ethan, after care. (If I missed anything let me know:)

A/N: Fucking LOVED writing this. There's just something about rough Ethan that just feels so right to write.

Ethan was trying to torture you…at least that’s what it felt like. He’d been holding out on sex for a few weeks, and as bad as you tried, he was always denying your advances. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it, because he was dying to touch you, but he didn’t want your relationship to be more sexual than anything.

While you were at a random frat party with your friends, he’d started to think that he’d made you wait long enough. He was talking with Chad on the other side of the room as you sat with Tara and Anika, sipping on your drink. You barely heard your phone chime over the loud music, and when you checked it, you saw you had a text from Ethan. You looked over to him as he smiled before you checked the message.

Ethan: You look beautiful tonight🩷

You blushed a little as you read his text and started to type your response when the three dots indicating that he was typing again popped up at the bottom of the screen.

Ethan: I can’t wait to take you back to my place and get you out of those clothes

Ethan: I can’t wait to taste your pussy😏

Your eyes grew wide as you tried to keep your composure. You knew your cheeks were heating up as you glanced over to him again. You watched him lock his phone and jump back into the conversation with Chad.

“You okay?” Anika asked, as you quickly flipped your phone so she couldn’t see the screen.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I might go home soon,” you said, trying to fake-yawn as she took a sip of her drink.

“Aww, that sucks. You sure you have to leave soon?” Tara asked as you nodded, when you felt Ethan’s eyes on you again, your phone dinging in your hand. “That boyfriend of yours won’t stop staring at you.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice,” you lied, before looking up at him. He held up his phone, signaling that you needed to check yours once Anika and Tara stopped looking at him.

Ethan: I thought you’d be begging me to leave by now.🙄

Ethan: Don’t you want me to fuck that perfect pussy?

You took a deep breath as you started to type.

You: You’re killing me😫

You: Meet me outside in 5?

Ethan: Can’t wait, baby😘

You looked over to Tara and Anika again, “Hey, I’m going home. I need to get some sleep, I’m exhausted.”

“Aww, but Mindy’s going to be so bummed that you left before she got here,” Anika frowned as you started to laugh.

“There will be more parties. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, anyway,” you smiled at them as you walked towards the door, Ethan watching your every move.

You started to walk back to his place, your pace slowed as you waited for him to catch up to you. You soon heard footsteps walking quickly behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his sweet tone contradicting the filthy things he was texting you.

“What was that about?” you asked, as he pulled away to walk beside you. He laced his fingers with yours as you started to pick up the pace, both of you desperate to be alone.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, baby,” he said, looking down to smile at you, “I know you think it hurts a little, but do you think you could try to take all of my cock tonight?”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “Why should I do that when you haven’t fucked me in three weeks?”

“Because I think you’d like it,” his tone was cocky as he thought back to all the times you told him it was too much. “Only if you want to, though.”

“We can try it,” you said, the acing between your thighs getting unbearable. “We need to walk faster.”

“Someone’s needy.”

Once you made it to his complex, he intentionally took his time to unlock the door. You glared at him as he slowly stuck the key into the lock and twisted it.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you pleaded, as he smirked at you. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny. I love that you’re so desperate for this,” he smiled, finally opening the door.

Once you walked inside, you grabbed his hand to lead him towards his room. He stopped in the kitchen, his arm stretching out in front of him as you tried to pull him.

“What?” you huffed, noticing a mischievous look on his face as he pulled you back towards him.

“We’ll go to my bed soon, baby. There’s something I really wanted to do first,” he said, as he started to unbutton your jeans. You stepped out of your shoes as he slid your jeans and panties down your legs at the same time.

“What did you have in mind?” you asked, the bottom half of your body bare as he teased your thighs with his fingertips.

“I want you to sit your pretty ass up on the counter so I can eat your pussy,” he smirked, his hands going to your hips.

“Oh, okay,” you smiled, placing your arms on the counter and pushing yourself up onto it.

He spread your legs and ran his fingers over your soaked pussy, the feeling making you whimper.

“Please don’t tease me,” you begged, as he chuckled at your words.

He leaned in and gently sucked your clit into his mouth, before his tongue started to flick it.

“Shit,” you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat at the feeling. “Just like that, baby.”

He alternated between the flicking and swirling his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, your legs starting to twitch at how good he was making you feel. Your pussy was dripping with your arousal, making it easy for him to slide two fingers into you at once with ease.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, as he slid them all the way inside of you. He started to angle them just right after a couple minutes of thrusting them to stretch you out. “Fuck, baby,” you gasped, as he started to hum against your clit.

His fingers were starting to coax your orgasm closer to the edge, your legs starting to jolt as your whines got louder.

“You’re gonna make me cum. I’m so close,” you moaned out, as he started to hit that spot inside of you a little harder. Your hand went to his hair, wanting him to keep his attention on your clit as your pussy started to flutter around his fingers. “Yes, baby!” you cried out, your hips involuntarily bucking against his fingers as that wave of euphoria washed over you.

He worked you through it, before he pulled away with a smirk.

“Did that feel good, babe?” he asked, as you nodded your response. You were already so fucked out from his fingers that you couldn’t even imagine how you’d react once he actually fucked you. “Let’s go to my room.”

He helped you get off the counter, his hands going to your hips as your wobbly legs threatened to give out. He walked you to his room and helped you take off your shirt and bra, before he pushed you back on the soft comforter. You watched him unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, before sliding them, along with his boxers, down his legs. You got a little nervous at his size, and he could tell as he walked to his nightstand to grab a condom.

“Just relax, baby. If it hurts, I’ll stop. Okay?” he said, trying to ease your anxiety as he crawled on top of you.

He slid into you inch by inch, stopping when he had another left to go. He thrusted what he knew you could take, not wanting to rush it. You were moaning underneath him as your hands went to your breasts, squeezing them as he started to move a little faster. You were getting so into it that your legs hooked around the back of his thighs, pulling him as far in as he could go.

“Oh shit,” you mewled, your thoughts clouded as he slowed down a little. He wanted to make sure you were okay, but once you started whining because he wasn’t going fast enough, he sped back up.

“You’re taking my cock so fucking well,” he groaned, watching your face. You started to babble, your words making no sense as he praised you. “I knew you could do it.”

“Mhm,” was all you could get out as he leaned back to watch the way your tits jiggled as he fucked you. That’s when he noticed it.

“Fuck, baby,” he said, running his hand along the bulge his cock was causing on your lower tummy with each thrust. “Does that feel good?” you nodded, your eyes pinched shut as he started to go faster. “And to think you’ve been holding out on me this whole time. You’re taking my whole fucking cock right now,” he growled, as he started to press down on the spot where the tip of his cock kept bulging out. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your whimpers were teetering on the edge of cries as your eyes started to water, but it didn’t hurt. It felt so good, his pace speeding up even more as he continued to press down on you.

“Cumming,” you choked out, unable to say anything else.

He reached down to circle your clit with his fingers, making your orgasm even more intense. He kept watching your tummy, desperate to run his hands over it again as he fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching him so tight that he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

Once you started to go limp, your eyes were hazy as you smiled at him. He started to pound into you, his hand pressing down on your tummy.

“That’s it, fucking take it,” he said, as you moaned out at the feeling. “I need you to be louder, baby.”

You did as he said, but it wasn’t fake by any means. You’d barely come down from your orgasm before he started to send you into another one, your hands gripping the sheets to the point that your knuckles were starting to hurt.

You didn’t give him any warning before your pussy clenched him so tight that he groaned out, your whole body shaking underneath him as you got lightheaded from the intensity of it.

“I’m..fuck. Gonna cum,” he finally got out, completely drunk off your pussy as he released into the condom. He pulled out and relaxed his weight on you as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands went to his hair, your nails scratching his scalp as you started to drift off to sleep.

“Hey, baby?” he asked, leaning up to look at you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded your response, too tired to say anything.

“I know the perfect thing for you,” he said, lifting off of you and running to the bathroom.

You soon heard the water running in his large tub as your eyes started to open. You wanted to get up to meet him in the bathroom, but you knew the odds of you falling to the floor the second you stood up were pretty high.

After the water was shut off, he walked back into his room to get you.

“I need you to come with me,” he smiled sweetly as he helped you up.

He led you down the hall, the dim flickering light cast against the wall making you confused until you walked in and saw a bubble bath surrounded by candles.

“How’s this for after care?” he joked, as he helped you get in. He got in, too, pulling your back to him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“This feels so nice,” you said, the hot water relaxing your body.

“Oh, I see someone got their voice back,” he said with a laugh, “You sure you’re okay? That wasn’t too much?”

“No…I’ll probably be a little sore in the morning, but it didn’t hurt. It felt really good,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss the back of your head. “You’ve never made me cum that quick back-to-back like that.”

“I could literally see every single thrust in your tummy,” he groaned, missing the sight already.

“RIP to my cervix,” you joked, as he laughed. “I think we should do that again soon.”

“I want to give you plenty of recovery time. I was so deep,” he said, rubbing his hands along your lower stomach. “After this, do you want to cuddle and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that…after we disinfect your kitchen counter.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #scream #smut

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tastesousweet · 8 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

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#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x black!reader

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lustfulslxt · 10 months

Note

Heyy hope your day going good I have a request for a Matt fic based on their recent pod they did with there parents basically when they were talking about how Matt was on the hockey team and he would get mad a lot maybe he has a game or something and loses it and he takes it out on his gf? Hope that makes sense

Take It Out - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : roughhhh sex

—

It’s around 6:30 and I’m already running late. Matt’s hockey game started ten minutes ago and I’m not even on my way to the rink yet. I know Matt’s probably upset about it, because I’m upset about it. However, I got stuck at work, and now I’m on my way home to pick up a gift bag I have for him.

We’ve been talking about this specific game for weeks now. They’re facing their rivals and Matt’s been practicing so incredibly hard. I know how important it is for me to be there for him, cheering for him.

I pull into my driveway and run inside, quickly gathering everything I need before running back out to my car. I toss it on the passenger seat, swiftly reversing and semi speeding to my destination. My nerves are on ten, I just want to get there to support my baby.

Upon pulling up to the rink, I hurriedly exit, leaving his gift bag in the seat and running inside. Once I give my ticket to the booth and they let me in, I swiftly make my way to the front, sitting in my reserved seat.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! Ugh, Matt is gonna kill me.” I exclaim, my face ridden with guilt.

“It’s okay, it was a late start anyways.” Marylou reassures me.

“Yeah, but he’s still upset. You can see it in the way he’s playing.” Nick says, making me frown.

He’s right, Matt’s game is off tonight. I can feel my stomach tighten at the thought of it being my fault. Sure, it’s just a game, but I know how much it means to Matt. I continue watching the game unfold in front of me, my leg anxiously bouncing with every passing minute.

The score’s 1-5, Matt’s team unfortunately down. I can visually see the frustration in him, he’s been extremely aggressive. He’s already been put in the penalty box several times this game, having been too rough.

Suddenly, Matt is checked by someone from the opposing team, crashing into him and resulting in a violent collision. I can practically see the steam coming from his ears. He jumps up and flings his gloves off, shoving the other guy into the wall, and throwing a punch at his face. A gasp leaves my mouth at the scene in front of me, my hands crossing at my chin.

“Jesus, Matt!” Nick shouts, tossing his arms up.

The two are quickly pulled apart and he’s once again sent to the penalty box. They’ve only got five minutes left on the clock, so it’s crucial that he’s on the ice to help his team. I watch as he anxiously paces back and forth, occasionally screaming through the glass as he watches the game play out in front of him. He then looks over in my direction, our eyes locking momentarily. I shoot him a smile, which he doesn’t return, and rolls his neck, something he does when he’s aggravated.

“God, he hates me.” I mumble, frowning once again.

“He doesn’t hate you. He just hates tonight.” Nick clarifies, reassuringly patting my knee.

I take a deep breath and nod, wishing the words to be true. I know he doesn’t actually hate me, but I would be surprised if he weren’t ridiculously upset with me right now. Though his feelings would be valid, it would still hurt. It’s not like I planned to be late, life just happens.

Once Matt’s two minutes were up, he quickly skated out, heading straight for the puck. Even if he were to make this shot, his team would still lose. They’re just too far behind to make it up in three minutes. As he chased after the puck, swiftly swiping it from his opponents, he began racing towards the opposite end of the rink, heading towards their goal. He swings his stick, hitting the puck and sending it flying into the goal. He turns around and throws his arms up, cheering. I can see the smile through his helmet. However, it quickly vanishes when he looks at the scoreboard and sees they’re still 6 points behind, just as the final buzzer goes off.

They lost.

I sigh, already knowing how the night’s going to go. As the teams exit the rink, I stand up, bidding goodbye to Nick and Marylou, and make my way towards the locker room, waiting for Matt to come out. Around ten minutes go by before he walks out the door. He looks at me, rolling his eyes, and continues walking towards the building’s exit.

“Seriously, Matt?” I toss my hands up, following after him.

He doesn’t say anything and just makes his way towards my car. Once we reach it, he tries to open the passenger door, but doesn’t succeed as it’s locked. He sighs loudly, rolling his eyes once again as he impatiently shuffles on his feet. I hit the unlock button and he opens the door, only to be met with his gift bag. He looks at it, then up at me, then back at it.

Without a word, he puts it in the backseat with his duffel bag, taking his place up front. I can’t help the deep frown that tugs on my lips. I knew he was going to be upset, but he doesn’t have to be a jerk. I silently start the car, waiting a minute for it to warm up, then pull out of the parking lot, heading for my house.

It’s tradition. After every game, he comes to my house and we spend the night together. Win or lose, it’s never been different. Though he’s never been this upset with me before, and I don’t even want to ask him if he’d rather go home. It could be selfish of me to want him to spend his time with me when he’s clearly mad at me, but I also want us to work through it.

It doesn’t take long to get to my house, and he’s getting out without a word, and grabbing his bag before making his way inside. Noticing he left the gift bag in the car, my frown deepens. I don’t understand why he’s being so mean. With a sigh, I retrieve the bag and follow him inside. Upon making my way into the living room, I notice him setting his bag against the wall.

“Matt, seriously! What the fuck is your problem?” I ask, finally giving in.

“My problem?” He asks, bewilderment taking over his face. “What’s your problem? You were supposed to be there.”

“I was there!” I exclaim.

He dryly chuckles, “Yeah, late.”

“But I still showed up! I’m sorry that I got held up at work, but I still showed up. Yes, I was late, but I still showed up. When have I ever not been there, Matthew?” I snap, already feeling frustrated with the audacity of him.

“You promised.” He mutters, his voice angry with a hint of sadness. “You were supposed to be there for the whole thing, and you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry, okay? But it wasn’t my fault! It’s not like I intentionally decided to come late.” I yell, before tossing the gift bag at him. “Here’s your gift, even though you’re far from deserving of it right now.”

I don’t spare him another glance, and I don’t wait for a response, I simply walk up the stairs, already ready for bed. I can’t believe him. He’s being ridiculous. Before I can even make it into my bedroom, I’m yanked back.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Matt says from behind me, his voice low.

With that, I’m spun around and his lips are slamming into mine, kissing me fast and hard. One of his hands holds onto the back of my head, the other one gripping my ass and pulling me closer to him. He shoves his tongue into my mouth, exploring every inch of it as I moan into his. I hate how easily he affects me, I’m always at my knees for him.

He pulls away from the kiss, quickly pulling my shirt off and attacking my neck with wet kisses. His teeth graze over my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He backs away once again, frantically removing his shirt. He yanks me back into him, smashing his lips on mine once more.

Our lips are working together, teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance, hands touching any and everywhere. His hands then reach my jeans, swiftly unbuckling them and tugging them down. To assist him, I kick them off of my feet. His hands then reach into the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down just as quickly. Once they’re discarded, he pulls his sweats off, leaving him in his boxers. I can see his hard on pressing against the fabric, constricted against it.

His lips are on mine again, his hand reaching in between my legs, feeling my bare heat. With a simple brush of his fingers, they’re now coated in my juices.

He pulls away and groans at the sight, “I knew you loved this shit. Such a whore.”

I can’t help but moan in response, him now rubbing my bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure through my body. His other hand massages my boobs, squeezing and tweaking my nipples. His fingers move from my clit, down to my entrance, pumping into me. The pace is slow and steady for only a split second, before his fingers are thrusting into me, fast and hard. My legs almost give out, so he wraps his arm around my waist, holding me up as he finger fucks me.

“Fuck, Matty.” I moan out, my face contorting in pleasure as the knot in my stomach grows tighter.

“Look at you, you’re eating this up.” He groans into my ear, “You love it when daddy’s rough with you, don’t you?”

I can only moan in return as he curls his fingers so perfectly. Unhappy with my response, he halts his movement inside of me, and his hand holding me up grips my jaw as he moves his face in front of mine.

His lips slightly ghosting over my own, he says, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes, yes. I love it so much.” I admit, lewd moans emitting from my mouth.

“That’s my girl.” He grins, continuing to pump in and out of me.

With a few more thrusts, I feel myself lose it, giving into the pressure in my stomach. A loud moan falls from my lips as I let go, squirting all over his hand as he fucks his fingers into me. My breath hitches in my throat, feeling utter euphoria coursing in my veins.

As soon as he removes his fingers, he has both of my legs wrapped around his waist, leaving me to hold onto the railing behind me, my elbows resting on it. Without a word, he’s shoving his cock into me. A loud yelp escapes my mouth, and a guttural moan from his. Off the rip, his pace is fast, fucking into me so deliciously and hard. My boobs are bouncing from the force and I can’t help my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

“F-feels so good, daddy.” I moan out, my breathing erratic.

“Mhm. Such a good little slut.” He groans out, his thrusts increasing in speed and strength.

The knot in my stomach returns, pleasure building up very quickly. I force myself to keep my eyes open just to take in Matt’s appearance. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked in his mouth. His torso is glistening with sweat, whilst his hair slightly sways with every movement, aside from the pieces sticking to his forehead. His cheeks are flushed a rosy color, and his eyes are dark with lust.

Just the sight of him was enough to push me over the edge as I let go for the second time tonight. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I tighten around him, feeling him pulsating inside of me. Me clenching around him caused him to shudder, immediately releasing his nut into me, fucking us both through our orgasms.

“Fuck, so good to me, baby.” He moans out, his thrusts coming to a stop.

Both of us are breathless, panting together as he pulls out of me, slowly letting me down, but still holding onto me, so that I don’t drop.

“That was-“

“I’m sorry.” He cuts me off, pulling me flush against him. “My team was shit tonight and I took it out on you when you did nothing wrong. Thank you for coming to support me, I love you so much.”

I smile, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll always be there for you, Matty. I love you so much.”

He gently kisses me on the lips, soft and slow, savoring the moment. He then picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, running in the direction of the bathroom.

“Come on. We need to shower.” He laughs, making me laugh in return as he’s not wrong.

—

a/n : so sorry this is so short!!! i hope it does the trick tho :( pls enjoy fr, send in more <3333

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

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𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 ; 𝘤𝘣98 ୨୧

➪ summary: connor's favorite thing about having his girlfriend in chicago is the nights he gets to come home to her

➪ warnings: none

➪ word count: 1.1k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i completely forgot i wrote this. just a little fic (it's basically a blurb but i wrote like 50 words over a thousand so by my definition it's not) anyway, i hope you guys a short connor little thing today!

cb98 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

Dating the first overall pick was an experience, to say the least. Y/n and Connor had been dating since they were sixteen and she was by his side every step of the way through his hockey career.

When they knew where Connor was going to be drafted, the two of them got this sinking feeling in their stomachs. They didn’t want to do long distance, it would be too hard on both of them. However, there was something that y/n never told Connor.

She applied to the University of Illinois-Chicago on a whim. She didn’t think she would get in, so she didn’t see the point in telling her boyfriend about it. Yet, when she got her acceptance letter, she was troubled. She had never seen the campus, knew nothing about Chicago in general, she didn’t know what classes she would have to take.

But, when she thought about the other schools she had looked at, none of them even compared to being just down the street from where Connor would be every day that he wasn’t on a road trip. None of them were worth being so far away from her boyfriend.

A week after she got her letter she sat Connor down to talk. Connor didn’t like the way y/n sounded when she said, ‘I need to talk to you’.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

“Con, I need to talk to you.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and sat down on y/n’s couch holding her hand as y/n looked around anxiously.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What, no, of course not. There’s just something I have been keeping from you.”

“I don’t know if I should be relieved or more nervous now.”

Y/n laughed nervously, “No, uh. You know how we were talking about how we didn’t want to do long distance?”

“Yeah?”

“We might not have to.” Y/n handed the envelope to her boyfriend and watched his reaction nervously.

Connor had a confused look on his face as he looked at his girlfriend and then at the envelope. He opened and his face was met with the UIC causing him even more confusion.

“You applied to Chicago?” Y/n just nodded her head and urged him to keep reading.

He only had to scan a few lines before he was standing up and looking at the girl, “You got in?”

“Mhm.” Before he celebrated he contemplated the situation. He didn’t want her to move to Chicago just because he was going to be there. He loved her and he wanted her to be there, but he didn’t want her to give up her life for him.

“But what about-”

“‘But what about’ nothing, Connor. I love you and I want to be with you. And if that means going to Chicago with you, I will. Chicago has something no other school doesn’t.”

“What?”

“You, you big dope.”

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

Connor was forever grateful that she kept that secret from him. If he knew that she applied to UIC and didn’t get in, he would be devastated. However, there were ups and downs to being there in Chicago. Connor rarely saw y/n despite her being just down the street from the UC.

Any time he had an off day, she would have class and anytime she didn’t have class, he would have practice or a game. It was the luck of the draw when they got to be with each other. At points in time, they both thought it would’ve been better if they just stayed in their respective cities.

Overall, those cons were outweighed by the pros. When Connor had a rough day he could literally walk to her apartment to the UC, though he never did. And when y/n had her rough days, she would call Connor and they could be at each other's places within minutes. Though most days when they had a night game, or any game really, Connor ended up staying at her apartment.

That was what happened tonight. Y/n was watching the game from her apartment, she had lucked out with only getting one roommate and she had gone home for the break. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and y/n didn’t particularly want to go home, spending time with Connor was enough for her.

They had played the Leafs and Kevin scored the overtime goal with an assist from Connor. She had cheered so loudly that she was glad that almost everyone had gone home for the break. She watched post-game live including the interviews and everything that went along with it. When it was done, she turned on the Vancouver game as background noise while she added some food for her and Connor along with some cookies for later.

She truly had no way of knowing when and if Connor was coming back tonight, but she knew him. She sort of blacked out from the end of the game to when Connor came in through the door, causing her to jump when she heard the sound of his bag against the floor.

“Hey, Con.”

“Hi.” He took off his suit jacket and his hat, his cheeks rosy from the of Chicago.

“Thought you guys would be celebrating.” Y/n turned around from where she was stirring at the stove.

“They offered but cuddling with you was much more tempting.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his head onto her shoulder, “Whatcha making?”

“Soup and I went out and got a bunch of stuffing, because why not.”

“Thank you.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek, “Always.”

Connor went to shower and change as she finished making their food. The two sat and ate dinner while watching the game, talking about whatever came to mind. Connor was going to go shopping with her tomorrow even though Black Friday was today. They were going to buy Christmas decorations so they could decorate her room and part of the main area of the apartment.

When they were done and the game was done, they climbed under the covers of her bed, Connor wrapping his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest.

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“Your OT goal assist. Con that was amazing.”

Connor shrugged and tightened his hold.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And that’s how almost every game night is spent for Connor and y/n. Those nights were their favorite.

𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗚𝗢 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗛𝗔𝗪𝗞𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @petite-potato4 @absolutelyhugh3s @dyslecticdutchman

#: ̗̀➛ sunny’s writing 📓 !#: ̗̀➛ ❝ [ fics ] ❞#: ̗̀➛ ❝ [ connor bedard ] ❞#nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #connor bedard #cb98 #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard fic #connor bedard x reader #chicago blackhawks #nhl blackhawks

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bluecollarmcandtf · 8 months

Text

Am I Acting Weird?

Part II

I've been jogging on this treadmill for over an hour now. Cardio sucks, and I hate this old unventilated gym! When I joined the football team, I did it for the parties and cheerleaders! I just wanted to drink with the cool guys and get laid. I still do, but I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. I can't even remember the last girl I hooked up with!

I used to think it was weird that I was suddenly working out all the time. It was like my entire personality had changed overnight.

I know it's not weird now. Max, my younger brother, told me so. I have to keep working out until I become the quarterback of the football team. Then I have to bulk up and train even more, so I can become a professional footballer. That's my new goal in life, and I can't wait for my little bro to be able to brag about being related to a pro athlete.

Sure, I never really wanted to play football professionally. If it were up to me, I'd be out drinking with my buds, but it's not up to me.

That's not weird right?

I shake my head and slow my aching legs. Droplets of sweat run down my face as I work to control my breathing. My whole body is sore from the conditioning. It doesn't help that this is my third workout of the day. Between my morning weight session, afternoon field practice, and this, I am totally whipped.

I stagger over to grab my workout gear. My night isn't over. I still have to bulk my stomach up for tomorrow.

With a frustrated sigh, I stomp out of the gym and march directly into the diner next door. I nod to the greasy cook behind the counter. I've become a regular here, so he knows me pretty well.

"The usual?" he grunts with a toothy grin.

I nod and sink into a booth.

Max, my little brother, got tired of me eating at the house. Apparently, it took our father too long to cook my bulking meals. Max has me eat here after my workouts, and I completely agree. Max shouldn't have to share our dad with me. He deserved to have someone at home cooking whenever he wanted to eat.

"Four burgers, fries, and a soda," the cook snickers as he slaps the tray in front of me, "A growing boy needs extra protein."

I grimace and turn away from the chef. His breath alone is enough to make me lose my appetite, but I take a big bite and swallow. I won't gain mass if I'm not consuming mass, and I obviously need to get bigger.

I've broken out into a second sweat by the time I'm done. Forcing myself to up, I have to adjust to my bloated waist. You'd think I'd get used to a packed stomach, but I always feel uncomfortable for the rest of the night.

I let out a belch and carry the dirty dishes to the back. It always feels weird strolling into an employees-only area like this, but it's part of how I get my meals for free. You see, the cook let's is nice as long as I take care of two things.

The dishes are the first thing.

"Leave the dishes," I hear his husky voice behind me, "I never wash 'em anyways."

I drop the dishes and turn the sink off, holding my gut as it growls in pain. My belly might ache, but I've got one more thing to do.

The cook watches me expectantly. He licks his chapped lips, and grabs at the bulge under his apron, between his two trunks of legs. He's already fishing the thing out. I know what he wants, so I drop to the floor. This has become just another part of my daily routine.

It's how I thank the chef.

I don't know how this became a habit, because I absolutely do not enjoy it! The man is filthy, and a man! I'm not gay! I like women, but I have to eat a lot to bulk up and Max liked the idea of me eating for free. It's not weird!

I let him manhandle me a bit, gripping my head and pulling my hair. The cook gets off faster if he roughs me up a little. He usually only lasts a few minutes, but it's the longest few minutes of the day.

It's not sex. It's just a transaction!

"Oh, yeah!" he growls with his eyes squeezed shut, "Yeah, boy! Fuck!"

I whip my head off his hairy crotch and jump to my feet. I spit into a napkin and wipe my mouth quickly. I know from experience that I won't be able to get the taste of sweat and meat out of my mouth until I brush my teeth thoroughly at home.

My part is finally done here, so I just want to leave!

"Can't wait to see you tomorrow morning, jocky boy!" he laughs, but I've already stormed out, marching down the street to my house. I'm trying not to think about how I'll be seeing him in a few hours for breakfast.

"Hey dad," I mumble, stepping inside.

"Boy," he answers dismissively, not even looking up from his work. As usual, he's wearing his home uniform: a suit and white gloves. I have a similar outfit for when I'm hanging around the house, but dad gets a lot more use out of his now that I'm constantly bulking up. Max is really the only one who seems to dress casually around here anymore.

I guess that makes him the weird one.

"What are you doing?" I ask, trying to start up a conversation.

"What's it look like, boy?" he answers gruffly, "I'm cleaning up after Max and his guests. Now, either get your uniform on and help or get out of my way."

His attitude makes me cringe a bit. Dad and I used to be really tight. We used to bond over sports and craft beer, but he doesn't really care about anything besides Max anymore.

I don't think he's gone to any of my games for the last few months. He's always cooking or cleaning for Max. I wish I understood. We used to tease Max all the time together, but now he gets angry anytime I try and bond with him. Like, it's totally normal and right for Max to be his new favorite, but I wish we could still chat every now and then.

"Sorry," I mutter.

My father ignores me and heads off to the kitchen in a rush. He looks erratic, and I can tell he's just as exhausted as I am. He's made it a habit of working extra hours at the office everyday. It's so he can bring home the biggest paycheck he can earn every week, but I know is affecting his sleep.

"Where is Max?" I ask.

My dad frowns, tersely responding, "Max took his guests to a movie in my car. The house needs to be clean and snacks need to be ready for when Max gets back."

"Oh," I sigh, "Are his friends staying over again? I'd stay up with you and help serve them, but Max said I should be getting nine hours of sleep every night."

"Go to bed, boy. I'll handle it," he states firmly, putting the final touches on the silver platter.

With that, my father picks up the tray of assorted snacks and walks them out into the living room. There he takes his place by the door and stands in his usual position. It's where he normally waits to welcome Max home everyday. Father and I know that someone like Max shouldn't have to put their own coat away or take off their own shoes.

"Alright, dad, see you tomorrow."

He doesn't answer. He's already standing still as a statue and probably won't move until Max gets back. Hopefully, my little brother won't keep him up too late.

Sleep won't be hard for me to find. I can barely keep my eyes open, and I pass out as soon as I fall on my bed. The rest of the night is a deep and dreamless void, while my stomach processes all the food I ate.

When I wake up, I find dad like this...

"Dad? Dad!" I give his shoulder a nudge.

He jumps to life, jerking his eyes around the trashed living room.

"Did you fall asleep standing up?"

"Maybe," he answers with shock, "Max had me holding everyone's coats while they enjoyed some beer. They must have moved to the bed while I drifted off."

"Aren't they a little young for beer?"

"Max and his guests are welcome to my alcohol whenever they want it!" he snaps back at me.

"Geez, ok."

"You have a workout you need to get to, boy," he barks, "And I'm going to have to hurry if I'm going to clean up this mess before work."

I stare at my father as he scrambles to clean up the living room once again. He looks even more exhausted and disheveled than last night. Hopefully, he would be able to clean everything up with enough time to shower and shave. I know that all of the household stuff is his responsibility, but sometimes it seems like too much.

With a shrug, I turn and step out of the door. My day is going to be the same miserable routine as the last. I'm not looking forward to any of it, but that's not weird. Like Max said, I'll just keep my head down, and power through.

#hypno story #mind control #gay ai art #servant

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ladykailitha · 2 months

Text

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 3

Hey guys!! I am really loving all the excitement for this story. It's going to be a fun ride.

I'm going to be taking a week off with this and Icarus (metal band Steve) next week because I can't wait for you guys to see the Stripper AU and the Olympic swimmer one. And Sept is too far away dammit!

This part we see the morning after and Eddie learns Steve's real situation.

Part 1 Part 2

Steve woke up the next morning, warm, sated, and happy. He stretched luxuriously in the bed, reveling in the silky softness of the satin sheets against his bare skin.

“There’s the sleepy head,” Eddie said from a nearby chair. He was gently strumming his guitar and jotting down notes. “Did you sleep good, princess?”

Steve sat up and let the sheets pool provocatively around his waist. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time, if I’m honest.”

Eddie chuckled and put the guitar down. He strolled over to the bed and kissed Steve deeply. “As much as I would like round two, I’ve got to check out in an hour and I still need breakfast and shower.”

Steve pouted, but the tantalizing smell of room service hit his nose and his stomach growled.

Shit.

He hadn’t eaten since his dinner two nights before. So he slid out of the comfort of the bed and pulled on his pants, before padding over to the table that had a literal feast laid out.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Eddie explained. “Eat as much as you want, I can grab food on the tour bus.”

Steve looked up at him, chewing his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, and then gathered some clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

Steve dug into the food with gusto. His mouth watering around each bite. Look, he’d grown up rich. He had never had “poor” people food. Only the best ever graced his mother’s table. But this? This was god tiered level food. Each bite melted in his mouth and lit up all his senses. It was divine.

Granted that could just be because he was hungry, but he didn’t think so.

He wasn’t sure how long he took savoring each morsel but he looked up to Eddie chuckling in the doorway to the bathroom.

“You keep making those sounds, baby,” he purred, “and I might be tempted to see how fast I could get you off.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Is the food always this good?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Not always sometimes they’ll have some asshole chef who thinks he’s god’s gift to food and makes it all about him. Small portions, bland, expensive as hell. There isn’t much Hawkins has going for it, but this hotel is definitely one of them.”

“It must be so expensive getting a room here,” Steve breathed.

Eddie just shrugged. “You must have not come from much if this impresses you.”

“My parents are like lawyer and businessman rich,” Steve said shaking his head, “not rockstar rich. Trust me when I say that this would blow their fucking minds.”

“Duly noted,” Eddie said coming to sit next to him at the table. There was still a lot left as Steve had been enjoying the meal instead of scarfing it down. “I wouldn’t know. I grew up in Forest Hills that’s the trai–”

“Trailer park,” Steve said quietly, “I know. I used to babysit after school for fun money. I didn’t have to do it, but I enjoyed it and I liked the pocket money that wasn’t dependent on Mommy and Daddy. Anyway one of my kids was from there. She had a single mom who worked and when she didn’t she drank, so I was happy to watch her and get her out of the house for a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked for a moment and then half shrugged. He pulled some food onto his plate and took a bite. “So yeah, I grew up poor and each time we moved up the chain from sleeping rough, to motel, to cheap hotel, to nice hotel, to some place more like this I was always impressed. Don’t impress me anymore, though.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “Do you miss that? The wonder of seeing each new place?”

Eddie frowned as he thought about it. He took another bite of food but he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He poke Steve in the ribs. “Don’t I didn’t notice you wanting to go diving into those pillows when we first came in. I saw you.”

Steve squeaked and giggled. “All right, all right. But can you blame me?”

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “Because that was the first thing I did when I got into the room yesterday afternoon.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, all right.”

They finished their breakfast.

“Come on let me take you back to your car,” Eddie said putting his luggage together for his PA to grab later.

“Oh.”

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell him that he still had all his earthly possessions in his car. At least he hoped they were still there. That he didn’t have any place to go and he couldn’t ask the parents of those kids he babysat. His dad would make their life hell.

“No, it’s fine,” he said waving Eddie off. “I’ll relax here in the lobby for a bit and then call a friend for a ride. You can go whenever you need to.”

He had no friend to call and he would be walking that long ass trip back to the bar.

“I’m not going to do that,” Eddie said, standing up. “I’m going to take back to the bar because that’s where the tour bus is anyway. It doesn’t make any sense to have you call someone else when we are literally going to the same place.”

Shit.

There was nothing Steve could say to that. So he finished getting dressed and walked with Eddie back to his rental car.

Once they got to the bar, Steve tried to sneak off, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“I’m walking you to your car, Stevie,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Fuck.

Steve dragged his feet all the way to the back of the lot where his Bimmer was parked.

Eddie stopped ten feet from the car and looked at Steve in indignation. “Please tell me you have some place to go after I get on that tour bus.” Steve opened his mouth, but he held up a hand, “And please don’t lie, you’re terrible at it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he stared at him in shock. “I am not!”

“Yeah, you are, babe,” Eddie said coming and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “It’s how I was able to tell you weren’t twenty-two, remember?”

Steve let out a small petulant huff but said, “Yeah, okay. My dad kicked me out and threatened all my friends so they wouldn’t want to take me or risk his wrath. He did the same thing to my job at the video store.”

Eddie kissed him tenderly and then pressed his forehead against Steve’s. Steve grabbed onto his wrists for something to hold onto, not to pull him away.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie growled, “you have no friends, no money, no job, and no place to go, is that right?”

Steve nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He took Steve’s hand and started hauling him away from the car.

Steve stumbled, trying to keep up. He looked back at his car and then back to Eddie. “But where are we going?”

“I need to make a short pit stop and then we’re going back to the hotel,” Eddie said firmly.

“But what about your tour?!” he protested. “I let you throw your life away from some guy you just met!”

Eddie stopped and turned around to face him. “You listen real close, little Canary. We are going back to the hotel to get you a room for the next six months so that you have a roof over your head and a constant supply of food. Then I will be going on tour and will check in on you from time to time to make sure you do need anything else. Is that clear?”

Steve gulped he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. And he had the feeling that if he tried to weasel out of it, Eddie would be right back in Hawkins to hunt him down.

“You take care of everyone else,” Eddie said gently, “let me take care of you.”

“How–how did you know I take care of everyone else?” Steve stammered, trying not to think of the implications of what was going on here.

Eddie kissed him gently. ‘Because little Canary, you have not once talked about the boy you were obviously caught with for your dad to throw you out even though he’s not offering to take you in either. You haven’t railed against the friends that are clearly more afraid your dad then they care about you. You haven’t blamed your dickhead boss for firing you for being gay, even though you really should. And you haven’t called the parents of the kids you used to babysit for fear of your dad coming after them, too. You have carer written all over you, babe.”

Steve blinked in the face of that onslaught of information.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t really thought to blame anyone for his current predicament because it was obviously his fault this all happened.

“So you’ll let me help you?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve sighed and waved his free hand back to the direction they were going. “Lead on.”

Eddie cackled and did just that.

What the pit stop was was Eddie talking to his band and manager about getting Steve a room at the hotel, putting all of the expenses on Eddie’s credit card and hauling all his belongings up the hotel room Steve had vacated literally a scant hour before.

The room had been cleaned and the bedding replaced and the bed made anew.

Eddie handed Steve a paper with a couple of numbers on it. “The top one is my cell phone. I usually leave it in the tour bus, but if you call it I’ll call you back as soon as I can. The second number is Chrissy, she’s our manager, if you need anything other than what the hotel provides, call her and she’ll get it for you. The third number is your hotel en suite phone number. I don’t recommend giving this out to too many people though, okay?”

Steve nodded and gingerly took the paper from him. He looked up at Eddie, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for this.”

Eddie kissed him again. “You just relax and enjoy yourself, baby. The tour will be over in a few months and then I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Steve kissed him goodbye as tears flowed down his cheeks. Eddie kissed them away and gave him a hug goodbye.

Once Eddie was gone, Steve sat down into the chair Eddie had been in when he woke this morning. Hard.

His entire life had been turned upside down again. This time was even more insane than the last.

Just two days ago, he had been making out with Tommy Hagan on his parents’ sofa and now he was sitting in the swankiest suite in Hawkins’ swankiest hotel, which would be his for the next six months.

He had all his clothes and his pictures and things. He even got to put them up on the side table, housekeeping would just dust around them. His clothes were in the drawers and closet. There was a basketball court in the hotel gym, there was a swimming pool, and a fucking sauna. There was a TV in the room, hooked up to cable. He could even order porn on here and it would all be charged to Eddie’s credit card.

Steve literally had everything he could ever need and never leave the hotel. There was just one condition.

No underaged drinking on Eddie’s credit card. Steve could smoke, watch porn, do whatever else he wanted, but he couldn’t drink alcohol until he was twenty-one. Because Eddie didn’t want to get into trouble with the law and Steve really didn’t blame him.

So he traded booze for the life of luxury. Which fucking hell was a pretty great trade.

He wiped his hands on the black leather pants he had yet to change out of and stood up.

Steve eyed the bed for one moment before he was running straight for it. He leapt into the air and landed spread eagle, face first in the center of the bed, pillows flying everywhere.

It was every bit as amazing as he thought it would be.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he could get used to this, in fact.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #age difference #ten years between steve and eddie

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