#cw: frottage

[sugxto]

open circuit - eddie x volt drabble

⋆syn: there's something about you that's catching Eddie and Volt's interest. They... discuss exactly what they want to do about it.

⋆wc: 2.6k

⋆cw: explicit m/m, frottage, dirty talk - they're fantasizing about you and getting off on it, basically

⋆notes: takes place after you've worked with eddie to fix up the club, before the final night of their route. the person eddie and volt are discussing is completely gender neutral. they're referred to as "human," with they/them pronouns, and no descriptions of genitalia or features. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

“I’m telling you that we should fuck them. Give the little live wire one hell of a night.” Volt’s eyes narrow, and Eddie feels his hand on his side dip lower, glide along the waist of his pants, and a finger hitches around a belt loop. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about them too.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to, because Volt already knows he has.

open circuit

The toolbox swings shut with a metallic thud, and Eddie is relieved to not have to hold a pair of pliers, hopefully, for the rest of the night.

That should be enough, he thinks to himself, just enough to get them through tonight, maybe even tomorrow if Volt didn’t over do it. He repeats the reassurances over and over his in mind as he puts the tools away, wanting, needing to believe it.

The tools away, he makes his way down the hall to the bar office, pressing a thumb to the space between his eyebrows as he mentally goes over what smaller tasks could possibly be left on the to-do list. Wipe down the glasses, restock the whiskey, wipe down the -

He’s suddenly thrown against the wall of the office, just as he rounds the door, his breath leaving his lungs in a surprised gasp. He blinks, and nearly rolls his eyes at the glowing mess of white bolts that greet him. Of course.

“I’m working, Volt,” he grumbles, making his face stoic, but he’s curious about the playful glint in Volt’s eyes. He doesn’t show it, though. “What do you want?”

Volt cocks his head, a familiar smirk on his lips. Eddie knows that smirk too well, knows how it can get anyone at their bar to order another round, how it can convince Daisuke to lend them the crystal glasses, how it can crumble Eddie’s resolve if the situation is right.

“And what makes you think I want something, hm?” As Volt speaks, he rests a hand on the wall next to Eddie’s waist, blocking him if were to move to the door. “Can’t we just take a break together?”

Eddie sighs, rolls his eyes. “No. I don’t have time, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to ensure we don’t blow a fuse every night.” 

“Yes, I have noticed. An excellent job you’re doing too, my darling.” Volt’s eyes rake over Eddie’s face, pausing on his lips, before meeting his eyes again. “You and the human are very good together.”

Fuck.

Eddie feels his face get hot, and his nostrils flare, but he remains still, not willing to give Volt the satisfaction of a reaction. 

But still, Volt smiles, leaning his face down, closer to Eddie’s, the tips of their noses almost touching. “You thought I wouldn’t hear you two making a racket the last few days? Did I overhear something about a ladder?”

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself, a thought forming slowly in his exhausted brain, and he searches Volt’s white eyes for something amiss before saying, “You’re not mad they’re helping?”

“Helping you? Eddie, despite how you reassure me, well, more like lie to me, every morning that you did indeed sleep, I’m overjoyed they’re helping,” Volt says, his lightning brows arching on his forehead. 

Huh.

That wasn’t the reaction Eddie was expecting. 

He’d convinced himself that Volt might, well, explode if he knew someone else was touching their wires, helping to regulate the very power he released every night. But more than that, Volt was… prone to jealousy.

It wasn’t like either of them had virtuous pasts - they spent their first few years after Volt sparked into existence almost dancing around each other, trying to find distractions in whatever came through the door of the Breaker Box. But, once they’d found each other, acknowledged the spark, the current, that connected their very beings, there was no one else. 

Volt was still a flirt, that couldn’t be helped, and it was good for business, they both knew. That didn’t bother Eddie - it was him that Volt came home to every night, but more than that, it was his very essence that gave Volt life. Nothing would ever be able to come between that. Not even when Bev would get hammered every so often, and grab onto Eddie's vest for “balance,” and Volt would appear seemingly out of thin air, a blue tint on his cheeks as he’d escort her out.

He’d made Volt out of necessity, and in turn, Volt lived to protect him. And Volt did not like anyone getting in his way.

So, it surprises Eddie, the voice Volt uses to reference the human - like he’s eager, waiting, for someone to open a present he’s gifting. 

“Really?” Eddie asks, a bit incredulous.

“Really.” Volt’s hand moves to Eddie’s waist, stroking his thumb over the wires on his vest. His eyes are playful, and Eddie tries to ignore the way it makes his heart skip a bit. “They’re quite something, aren’t they?”

Eddie shrugs, makes a face that he hopes displays nonchalance. “I guess. They keep coming back, for some reason.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Volt chuckles, cupping Eddie’s face with his other hand, his thumb tilting his chin up. “You can’t be that oblivious.”

Eddie doesn’t like that tone, like he’s missing something, left out of a secret, and he furrows his brow, his gaze a challenge to his partner. “Oblivious to what, Volt?”

Volt’s grin is nearly sinister, and he turns his head, brings his lips to Eddie’s ear, and whispers, in the softest voice, “They want us.”

Eddie snaps his head, Volt’s eyes shining, that fucking grin still plastered on his face.

That - that couldn’t be right.

Sure, they were a bit of a flirt - he knew that, from how they flushed at Volt’s greetings, from an innuendo or two they’d thrown at him during a work break the other day. But it was Volt they were interested in, surely. Why they offered to help, show up before the club even opened, because it meant something to Volt. It was always Volt.

Except…

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I actually like spending time with you?”

Eddie swallows, steels his gaze against Volt’s white hot stare. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Volt’s grip on Eddie’s waist tightens, and their hips meet as Volt backs him further against the wall. “They ask about you, you know, even as I flash them all my little tricks. And it’s not that they don’t reciprocate the energy - it’s actually refreshing, how well they keep up with me - but.” Volt licks his lips. “I think, one of us just wouldn’t be enough for them.”

That - no.

Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to believe that. That the shimmer he’d seen in their eyes could be for him, for them, and not just the prospect that Volt would have their way just once more.

He couldn’t.

So he lowers his voice, and grabs Volt’s collar, pulls him down to him. “So what - are you telling me you plan on fucking them?” His voice is like a dare, a tone that he knows can keep Volt in check if need be. But it’s less solid than usual.

“Mm, Eddie,” Volt purrs, and his hand travels down from Eddie’s cheek to rest on his neck, “looking a little green, darling.”

He tugs again. “Are you?”

Volt chuckles, shakes his head. “Not at all.” Sparks practically fly from his eyes. “I’m telling you that we should fuck them. Give the little live wire one hell of a night.” Volt’s eyes narrow, and Eddie feels his hand on his side dip lower, glide along the waist of his pants, and a finger hitches around a belt loop. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about them too.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to, because Volt already knows he has. 

(Eddie doesn’t know how it works, but sometimes, when they touch, there’s a spark, a current that flows between them, and it’s like they feel each other’s emotions as if they were their own. He tried to study it, years ago, tried to parse out some sort of rationale, some logic, but simply couldn’t. It was just how they were, he concluded, and it didn’t need to make sense to anyone but them.)

But still, he stays quiet, even as Volt’s nimble fingers find the button of his pants, tug the zipper down. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when Volt’s hand cups him, and he knows he’s caught, half-mast and growing by the second.

“Ah,” Volt breathes, and his lips brush Eddie’s, his breath hot, electric, on his skin. “I knew it.”

Eddie groans when Volt finds more pressure, and he pulls at Volt’s collar, forcing their lips together, and they move with practiced precision, their teeth tugging on each other’s lips, tongues swiping into the other’s mouth. He can never get enough of Volt’s mouth, how easy it is, how natural, when it meets his own. He wants to drink Volt down, feel his warmth like a whiskey sour, as long as he’s physically able.

He swipes a lick across Volt’s lips, then across his jaw, and nips at the skin, his cock paying rapt attention to Volt’s resulting gasps. He finds Volt’s ear, catches the lobe with his teeth, and says, “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”

Volt’s lips are on Eddie’s cheek, his breath tickling his ear. “What haven’t I thought about?” His voice is so rich, so deep. “Can’t you just picture it? You, watching me fuck them. Me, watching you fuck them.” His hand wraps around Eddie’s cock, and Eddie curses as he starts slow, languid strokes. “The two of us, inside them, together.”

Eddie can’t help when his breath hitches, when his knees wobble. He’s thought about it too, in the hidden, deep recesses of his mind, in the early hours of the morning between sleep and wake. Imagining the look on their face when either of their cocks would slide inside, taking it exactly how Volt and Eddie gave it to them. 

But he’d never allowed himself to want.

And now, it surged under his skin, made his skin buzz, and fuck, yes, he wants.

Eddie shoves Volt back, but Volt doesn’t seem surprised, allowing Eddie to lead him, blindly, to the desk that sits in the center of the room. When his legs crash against it, Volt sits atop it, scattered papers flying off the surface with the force of impact. He opens his legs, and Eddie slots between them, grinding his cock against the bulge in Volt’s trousers as he grabs Volt’s face and kisses him again.

When his lips trail to Volt’s neck, and his teeth bite down, Volt’s fingers card through the coils of his hair, tugging him closer still. “You can picture it, can’t you, my darling? On their knees for us? Your beautiful wires on their skin?” he moans as Eddie’s teeth find his shoulder. “There’s so much we can do with them. I could fuck you while you had your fill of their cum. Fuck, Eddie, you could fuck me while they ride me. I’d feel so fucking full, Eddie, you know I would.”

Eddie growls, deep from his throat, and he practically rips the zip of Volt’s pants open, wastes no time in freeing Volt’s cock, long and beautiful and leaking onto Eddie’s fingers as he strokes it. His brain is close to frying, it’s racing, and he’s still not sure this is real. This isn’t a concept that he and Volt have discussed, even thought about, regarding any other occupant of the house. It was them, and they were enough.

And yet.

He raises his gaze, finding Volt’s white eyes drunk from Eddie’s touch, from the lust, love, that charges the very air in the room. When he speaks, his voice is gruff, laced with want. “Yes,” he admits, his eyes never leaving Volt’s. “Yes, I can fucking picture it.”

He lets go of Volt’s cock, just for the split second it takes for him to spit into his palm. He rocks his hips, his own cock knocking against Volt’s, whose jaw goes slack from the touch. Eddie’s hand encircles them both, a groan falling from his lips, as his strokes their lengths, once, twice, the heat of their pairing nearly scalding his palm.

Volt gasps, moans Eddie’s name, as their shafts grind together, their hips bucking up unconsciously. His hold on Eddie’s hair is so tight, pain bristles along his scalp, and Eddie relishes it.

Eddie huffs, his hand picking up speed, and keeping his eyes only on Volt’s. “I can fucking hear it, how you’d sound when their mouth is on you. The way they’d beg us. How they sound, fuuck, when they come.”

Volt presses his forehead to Eddie’s, and their breath combines, sharing the very air they inhale. “Yes, Eddie, yes,” he moans, his hips thrusting into Eddie’s hand, slick and hot and right. “You want it, tell me you want it.” As he says it, a hand leaves the coils of Eddie’s hair, finding, like a magnet, Eddie’s hand on their cocks, and joins him, holding, stroking them, together.

Eddie is hanging on by a frayed wire, and Volt’s voice is breaking it down, fast. “Fucks sake, yes, I want it, Volt.” And they are kissing, again, needing each other, wanting each other, as close as their bodies can stand. 

He feels Volt shudder, and a familiar feeling tightens in his belly. He hears, far off in the distances of the logical part of his brain, the sound of lightbulbs popping in the hallway, and the light above them flickers, almost synchronized to their breath.

Their strokes are hurried now, both of them climbing, together, higher and higher and -

They groan their names into each other’s mouth as they cum, their spend mixing and sizzling the skin of their hands as it coats them while their hands slow. Only when Volt makes a small whimper do they stop, and they catch their breath, slowly, sporadic kisses on each other’s noses.

Eddie is the first to speak, barely above a whisper. “Are you sure about this?”

Volt huffs out a small laugh, lets his hand fall from Eddie’s hair to the back of his neck. “Eddie,” he purrs, his voice heavy with satisfaction, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

They clean up with a rag from Eddie’s pocket, tuck themselves back together, readjust each others’ vests and shirt collars. They’re due to open soon, and they have to have some degree of professionalism, after all.

Eddie wonders if they’ll be here right at opening, and old, unfamiliar feeling arises in his chest - Anticipation. Excitement. Want.

When Volt kisses him, sweetly, once they’re back in one piece, he hums at how lucky he is to have Volt. His better half, his whole soul. Where would he be without him?

“Leave it to me to test the waters, alright?” Volt asks, and his lightning eyes are alight with mischief. “I’ll find you, and you’ll know how it goes.”

He nods, trusting Volt’s words more than his own in this new situation they’ve found themselves in. He runs a hand down Volt’s arm, locking one of his fingers around Volt’s, and he smirks. “Unless you’re wrong,” he teases, and Volt rolls his eyes.

“I’m never wrong, darling.”

“Uh huh. You better not be on this,” Eddie says, and turns to leave the office, off to find even more lightbulbs behind the bar. He tosses over his shoulder, “Or you’ll have to find some way to make it up to me.”

Volt’s laugh follows him, echoes down the hallway, and Eddie’s heart feels fuller than it has in weeks. He wonders, only to himself, if there’s even any more space inside it.

The door to the Breaker Box creaks open, and he recognizes the outline, his heart skipping a beat.

Maybe, Eddie thinks, it could grow to hold more.

[steveseddie]

clarity

written for @steddiebingo hop into spring mini event | prompt: first time | rating: e | wc: 2,9k | no cw | tags: minor steve/male character, feelings realization, friends to lovers, first time, frottage, hand jobs

read on ao3

Steve hoped that coming here would clear some things up for him. It’s why he suggested driving to Indy and going to a queer bar when Robin said she wanted to do something fun for the weekend.

Of course, Steve told her it was so she could meet a cute girl. He never said he wanted to find a cute boy to try to figure out some things about himself. As far as she knows, he’s just being a supportive friend, that’s all.

Only now that Robin has disappeared into the dance floor with a pretty brunette, leaving Steve alone by the bar, he can stop scanning the crowd for girls that Robin might be into and start looking for guys that he might like. Because that’s the question Steve is trying to answer– whether or not he’s into guys.

A few of them catch his eye, but that doesn’t clear anything up– Steve has always been able to appreciate a hot guy when he sees one. That doesn’t mean he’s attracted to them, just that he has eyes. Or at least that’s what he thought until he asked Robin if everyone else did that. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

“I don’t,” Robin said after thinking it over for maybe two seconds.

“No?”

“Nope, like, I know what most girls find hot, but I’ll look at those guys on posters and magazines and I just think they’re– eh,” she said, sending Steve into a spiral for the rest of their shift.

Maybe that’s what he’s doing here, he thinks. Maybe those hot guys are just guys he thinks girls would like. Maybe it doesn’t say anything about him.

He has almost convinced himself of this when he makes eye contact with a guy leaning against the bar. When he smirks at Steve and starts to approach, he feels less sure about it. 

He’s seen guys try to hit on Robin a few times, and he’s seen firsthand the uncomfortable and panicked reaction that comes with being approached by someone you’re not interested in at all.

That’s not what Steve is feeling right now.

He’s panicking a little, yes, but his stomach is also flip-flopping in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant.

It reminds Steve of how he feels when he’s with–

“Hey, darling,” the guy says, sliding into the stool next to Steve’s.

The pet name throws him for a loop, and he blushes. “Hi, uh, hey.”

“First time here?” The guy asks, giving him an obvious once-over.

“Yeah, I’m here with a friend. She’s– she’s dancing.”

The guy cocks his head, grinning. “Do you want to dance too?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He lets the guy drag him to the dancefloor, lets him put his hands on his waist after guiding Steve’s arms so they wrap around his neck. They’re pushed against each other by the people moving around them, and Steve’s stomach flip-flops again when their chests and hips press together.

Maybe his plan was a good idea. This does clear some things up.

Turns out Steve is into guys. Huh.

He’s definitely into dancing with someone as tall as he is, and he’s into big hands gripping his waist and the scratch of stubble when they move closer and their cheeks press together.

He’d probably be into kissing this guy, grinding against him, dragging him back to his car for more–

Or at least he would if his mind didn’t keep drifting to someone else– the reason why, after years of blissfully ignoring this part of himself, Steve finally decided to explore it.

Eddie. And Steve’s now confirmed crush on him.

He can’t help but think about him when the guy’s warm hands sneak under his shirt, wondering if Eddie’s would feel cold because of his rings. When Steve’s hand tries to tangle in the hairs at the back of the guy’s neck, he’s a little disappointed when he doesn’t find soft, long curls to grab onto. When the guy starts to lean in, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, Steve wishes he could be staring into big brown eyes instead.

“Shit, uh, sorry, I–” Steve stammers out, placing a hand on the guy’s chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks, pulling away.

Steve brushes his hair back. “I can’t– it’s just– there’s this guy–”

“Ah, did you come here to try to forget about him?” The guy asks, he seems a little disappointed, and Steve can’t blame him for that, but at least he’s also giving him a sympathetic smile.

It’s probably what makes Steve want to tell him the truth. "No, I– I came here to try and figure out if I really like him. He’s my friend, I don’t want to hurt him if I’m just– confused, you know?”

“Are you? Confused?”

“No,” Steve says without hesitation. There’s that clarity he came looking for. “I do like him.”

“Well,” the guy says, squeezing Steve’s hip. “You should tell him that.”

With that, he walks away. Steve leaves the dance floor and heads back to the bar. His spot is no longer available, but it’s fine; he feels like getting some fresh air anyway. He scans the crowd, looking for Robin, and finds her still dancing with the same girl. When their eyes meet, Steve gestures towards the door to let her know where he’ll be, getting a thumbs up in return before her attention returns to the pretty brunette.

Shouldering his way outside, Steve steps out into an empty alley. He’s only been there for a few seconds when the door opens behind him and someone else walks out.

“Stevie!”

The flash of panic he feels at being recognized in a place like this is quickly replaced by a fluttery feeling when he recognizes the voice.

He turns around and sees Eddie, and when his breath catches in his throat as he takes him in, from the eyeliner and the cropped shirt he’s wearing to the bright smile he’s flashing at him, Steve feels a little stupid for ever doubting he was into him.

“Hey, Eds,” he says with a little finger wiggle.

“I knew it was you! I’d recognize that Farrah Fawcett hair anywhere,” he says, and Steve remembers he needs to make Henderson pay for spilling that one. “But I gotta say, Stevie, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Steve could say the same thing. Eddie might be the reason why Steve even knows about this place, but he never said he was planning to come here anytime soon. He didn’t even tell Steve he was driving to the city!

Then again, Steve didn’t say anything either.

“Well, Rob wanted to do something fun, and we remembered you mentioned this place– She’s inside, dancing with a girl.”

Eddie whistles. “Get it, Buckley!" He says, and Steve chuckles. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Did you dance too? Pretty boy like you must’ve gotten quite a few invitations,” he says with a wink that makes Steve feel warm all over.

“Oh, uh, yeah, there was this guy,” Steve says, noticing the way Eddie’s finger tightens around the pack of cigarettes in his hand. “We danced for a while until–”

“Until the guy got handsy and you had to tell him you’re straight and only here to support your lesbian friend?”

Steve thinks about the guy he danced with, the reason why he turned him down, how he urged Steve to tell Eddie, and he thinks about the jealous tilt he can hear in Eddie’s voice right now–

“That’s not the only reason why I’m here actually,” Steve says, which makes Eddie pause in the middle of lighting a cigarette. “I– I thought this was a good place to figure some things out.”

“What things?” Eddie asks, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He realizes that the hand that’s holding the lighter is suspended mid-air and brings it to the end of the cig, flicking it and lighting it up, taking a quick drag–

Only to start coughing when Steve says, “Whether or not I’m into guys.”

“You– what?” Eddie sputters in between coughs. “Uh, I didn’t know– uh, did you– did you figure it out?”

Steve’s lips twitch at the hopeful yet cautious look on Eddie’s face. “I did.”

He takes a long drag of his cigarette. “Good, good, that’s– but you know, you didn’t have to come to Indy, Stevie. I could’ve helped,” he says before his eyes widen and he starts shaking his head frantically. “Not like– not like that! You know, like, talking since I’m into guys myself.”

Steve smiles amusedly at Eddie. It was his own feelings that Steve needed clarity on, not Eddie’s, because Eddie always wears his heart on his sleeve. Or rather, his face. Right now, he looks hopeful but a little scared, so Steve decides to make things easier for him.

Anticipation runs through him as he moves closer, pressing Eddie against the alley wall. “I couldn’t talk to you about this.”

“Um, why not?” Eddie mumbles, his eyes widening as Steve presses closer.

“Because I was also trying to figure out if I’m into you.”

Eddie curses under his breath. “And are– are you?”

Lips curling into a grin, Steve reaches for the cigarette between Eddie’s lips and puts it out against the brick wall before letting it fall to the floor.

Then he grabs hold of Eddie’s neck and surges forward, pressing their mouths together. Eddie makes a surprised noise but starts kissing back instantly, his hands settling on Steve’s waist. He shivers when the cold metal of his rings comes in contact with his skin, where Steve’s shirt rides up, much like he figured it would be like.

Steve’s hand shifts to the back of Eddie’s neck where it grabs a handful of hair, fingers tangling in the soft curls. He gives them a playful tug, angling Eddie’s head a little better so he can deepen the kiss.

When he pulls back so they can catch their breath, his gaze meets Eddie’s big, doe eyes, blown and a little darker than usual.

Steve is so glad he waited for this to be the first time he kissed a guy. For Eddie to be the first guy he ever kissed.

He’s also the second, and the third, and the fourth– and after that, Steve loses count. One kiss mingling with the next as they make out against the wall.

“Is this– did the guy you danced with– did you kiss him too? Is that how you–” Eddie mumbles between biting Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth.

“No, he was going to, but I stopped him,” Steve admits, trailing kisses down Eddie’s neck. “He was hot, but all I could think about was you– doing this with you.”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, and then he’s shoving Steve’s back against the brick wall, switching their positions. “Stevie– Jesus, I’ve thought about doing this for so long, sweetheart. I hoped, but I can’t believe–”

Steve shuts him up by hitching up his leg and hooking it around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer. It brings their hips together, and he feels that Eddie is hard in his jeans. Steve isn’t far behind either.

“Motherfucker–” Eddie curses with a wounded noise when their erections brush together. “Stevie, as embarrassing as it sounds, I’m gonna cream my fucking pants if we don’t slow down.”

Eddie’s words do the opposite of what he intended. They urge Steve on, making heat pool in his stomach. He grinds against Eddie again.

“Fuck, Steve, we’re– are you sure you don’t want to– oh fuck, go somewhere else?”

Steve shakes his head. “I know you’ve hooked up here before,” he says, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders for leverage so he can keep rutting against him. “One time when we got drunk you told me and I– fuck, Eddie, I was so jealous. I thought I was just pent up and annoyed that you were getting any and I wasn’t, but– fuck, I was jealous of the guys who got to do this with you.”

“Oh my God, Steve, fuck, fuck, fuck–” Eddie gives in and tucks his face into Steve’s neck, matching the movement of his hips.

“I wanted it to be me, Eds. I wanted it to be me who jerked you off, who– who sucked you off,” he admits, tugging on Eddie’s hair, making him whine against his neck. “Fuck, Eddie. Wanted to be the one you fucked.”

It’s the last part that drags a strangled moan from Eddie and makes his hips stutter, his entire body shuddering as he comes in his jeans.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Steve,” Eddie pants as he comes down. Steve is painfully hard and twitching in his jeans so he does his best to move them so he can get friction from Eddie’s stomach without grinding against his overly sensitive dick.

“Eddie, Eds–” He moans because making Eddie come in his pants is probably the hottest thing Steve has ever done, and while the friction feels good, he needs more if he’s going to come.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, his lips brushing against Steve’s neck, pressing kisses against his pulse point.

“Touch me,” Steve pleads and feels Eddie grin.

“I got you, big boy,” he whispers, letting go of Steve’s waist and pushing one hand between them. He undoes Steve’s pants and reaches inside his underwear to pull out Steve’s cock, wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a few strokes, which are almost enough to make Steve lose his balance.

Because Eddie’s hand is big and his fingers are rough and calloused, but they move expertly, and they feel so good. Steve doesn’t think he’s going to last.

“God, Eddie, I– I’m close,” he stammers out soon enough, his voice breaking when Eddie thumbs at the slit.

“Already, sweetheart?” He asks, half-teasing and half-awed.

If Steve’s brain wasn’t melting out of his ears he’d make a bitchy comment about not coming in his jeans at least this but he can barely string two words together as it is.

“Y–yeah, please, Eds,” He whines brokenly when Eddie speeds up his hand, pleasure building up almost painfully. “Oh, fuck!” He moans as he topples over the edge, his knees buckling as he comes all over Eddie’s hand.

Eddie has Steve pinned against the brick wall, which is probably the only reason why he doesn’t collapse to the ground after his legs stop working. Resting his head back against the rough surface, he tries to catch his breath. Meanwhile, Eddie reaches into his back pocket for his bandana and uses it to clean his hand before tucking Steve back into his underwear and zipping up his pants.

It’s still blatantly obvious what the two of them were up to– their hair is sticking every which way, their faces are flushed, and their clothes are a mess, not to mention there’s a wet spot in the front of Eddie’s jeans. But at least this way, they won’t get arrested for public indecency if anyone decides to step out into the alley for a smoke. It’s already a miracle no one has walked through the door yet. They really should go before anyone does.

“We should head back inside,” Steve says, playing with a lock of Eddie’s hair.

“Er, you go ahead. I’m–” He gestures at the front of his pants, and Steve bites down on a laugh. “Hopefully I’ve got a change of clothes in the van or it’s gonna be a very uncomfortable drive home.”

“Sorry,” Steve says sheepishly.

Something hot flashes across Eddie’s face, and he cups Steve’s jaw. “Fucking worth it,” he says with a low voice and a wink.

Steve wants to kiss him again, but if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop, and he really needs to head back inside–

“I gotta find Rob, we should be heading back too,” he says, averting his eyes from Eddie’s tempting pink lips.

“Think she got lucky too?” He says with a ridiculous eyebrow waggle.

Steve cocks his head. “Is that why you came here? To get lucky?”

Eddie shrugs, tugging a lock of hair across his face. “I thought– I figured it was a good way to get my mind off– well, you, Stevie.”

“Was it working?”

“Hell no, when I saw you, I thought I was losing my mind, that I was hallucinating you.” A laugh tumbles from his lips. “I’m not sure I ain’t hallucinating this.”

“You’re not,” Steve says, tucking the hair behind Eddie’s ear. “I really like you, Eds.”

“I really like you too,” Eddie says with a giddy smile.

“Hey, wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow? Rob will be there, but she’ll probably want to sleep off her hangover, so we could–” He grabs the hem of Eddie’s cropped shirt, trailing off.

“Sure, sweetheart. I’ll come over,” Eddie says, giving Steve a short kiss. “Now go find Birdie. I’ll see you back home.”

“Bye, Eds.”

Steve watches the way he awkwardly waggles towards the street, laughing to himself, before heading back inside.

Where he bumps right into Robin.

“Dingus! Guess what? I kissed a girl!” She says, aggressively shaking Steve’s shoulders. “A girl kissed me!”

Grinning, Steve offers his hand for a high five. Then he blurts out, “I kissed a guy! Hooked up with him actually.”

Robin’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “You– what?”

“It’s Eddie!” He says, and her eyes grow impossibly bigger. "Also, we might be dating now."

At that, her jaw goes slack. She gawks at him before her face scrunches up. “I can’t believe you’ve been gay for five minutes and you’re already better at this than I am. Ugh!” Grabbing Steve’s hand, she starts pulling him towards the exit. “We’re leaving, dingus,” she says, “I need all the details.”

Steve sniggers. It’s a good thing that the drive back to Hawkins is two hours long.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

A quick imagine w/ Captain Curly

Idea from my bae @butuhaventseenmyman ily <333 NSFW MINORS GET OUT

cw: thigh riding, clothed humping, frottage, praise, squIrting !!

Imagine sitting on Captain Curly's lap while he maintains the ship's console. He's got you sat on one of his knees, his hand on your back to steady you. He's unaware of how your aching cunt is pressing directly against the meat of his thighs, unaware of how drenched you are. He's too focused. He doesn't notice when you slowly buck your hips forward, which sends a shock of pleasure down your spine and almost makes you whine aloud. Back and forth your hips go, gliding your pretty pussy up and down. And still, he doesn't notice it. He only notices when you reach down to pull your panties to the side for more sensible friction. Seeing you hump against his leg like a dog makes his cock hard in his pants. Maybe the console can wait. Without a word, his hand shifts down to your ass to help you along, cocky smirk plastered on his handsome face. You're getting loud now, nearing your orgasm as you dig your clit into his clothed thigh. He begins bouncing his knee, making you gasp. You're staining his pants with your slick, but he couldn't care less right now. He's intent on making you feel good. "More... curly.." You manage, voice weak and feeble from just how good you feel. He obliges, bouncing his knee with more force and speed, your loud whimpers music to his ears. As you rut and hump to your climax, he's soothingly stroking your back, pressing kisses to the side of your head, and when you finally come and gush all over his leg, he coos. "There you go, angel, good girl." His voice is like honey as he praises you, letting his knee gradually fall still as you come down from your high. "Let's get you cleaned up, then I'll take care of you, alright?" Yeah. Console can wait.

[l1tw1ck]

Thunder

Bottom!FTM Cloud Strife x Top!Male Reader

⛈️ Word Count: 1,799 ⛈️

While out on a mission, you and Cloud get caught in a sudden thunderstorm, forcing you to find shelter for the night until it stops. But after a couple days, there aren't any signs of it letting up

AFAB Language Used | I had writer's block and got bored so i decided to finally continue playing final fantasy. I stopped like 30 minutes in to write this fic at 12AM. i put down the game (temporarily! i love it) after the section 8 stuff so i'm sorry for any inaccuracies, just needed to take advantage of this burst of motivation

CW: Rape/Non-Con, Somnophilia, Power Imbalance, Frottage, Teasing, Creampie

You peek outside the window, or what was left of it, of the broken down building you're in then turn to Cloud. “Looks like we’ll have to stay the night.” Lightning strikes to reinforce your words. “Think you can handle it, pretty boy?”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.” Cloud sighs. “And stop calling me pretty boy.”

“It's hard when you look like an adorable little kitten.” You smile.

He rolls his eyes and looks around for burnable items.

“It's like watching a lion cub hunt and gather.”

“I can't wait for this night to be over.” He groans. “How about you do something useful, captain?”

“Like what, kitty?”

Cloud grips the damp piece of wood in his hand in annoyance. “Like maybe finding things to keep the water out of here.” He tosses the wood aside.

“Sure.” You stretch.

The two of you worked together to make the old building livable for the night and went to sleep thinking it’d be over by morning.

Cloud wakes up to the loud sound of thunder and sighs. He sees you leaning against the wall. “It's still raining.”

“It sure is.” You chuckle. “We might be here for a while, kitty. Unless you want to run out and somehow dodge all that lightning?”

The two of you are way too far from the base to even consider doing that. The job pays well but not enough for Cloud to not be annoyed with this sudden detour. “I better get a bonus for this.”

“Of course. You could get paid even more if you did me a little favor.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“About 60,000 gil plus your bonus pay.”

“What is it?” He asks, attentive.

You smirk. “Since we're gonna be stuck here for who knows how long, I think it’d be nice to do something as a…pastime of sorts.”

“Stop beating around the bush.”

You motion for him to come over. He rolls his eyes and gets up. “I know you're talented in so many ways,” You grab his wrist and pull him close to you. “And I wanna see if you're talented in this way too.”

He pushes you and steps back, his cheeks red. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.” You laugh.

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

The sun set and the sky continued to pour. Then days passed. You rationed food and managed to find other edible things to keep yourselves alive but the situation isn't all that great for you. You're still functioning, but just by a small margin.

The two of you were able to collect rainwater to drink and help yourselves clean up. Cloud insisted on doing it upstairs so you wouldn't watch him. You promised you wouldn't but you were lying.

As time went on, it was getting harder and harder to keep it in your pants. Your mental state started to get a little wonky thanks to your body not getting all the nutrients it needs. You couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted him, especially since it was better than thinking about food. It got to a point where you couldn't even fall asleep.

You look at Cloud’s sleeping face, studying the slight movements in his facial muscles as he dreams. The soft glow of your lamp allows you to properly see him despite the darkness. His chest slowly rises and falls. You know if you made an attempt, he’d wake up, any good soldier would. But it's getting hard to control yourself. Being in such close proximity with him is driving you mad. You hesitantly, and very softly, touch his shoulder. He doesn't react. You poke his cheek. Nothing. You pause.

You trace your finger down his chest and to his pants. You carefully unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn't seem to notice you pulling them down. You take in a small breath. You're so nervous it feels like there's a hole in your chest. You remove his boxers at an agonizingly slow pace. You gulp as you start to see his pussy. Light blond tufts of hair beautifully surround his soft, pudgy cunt and his t-dick. You look at him. He's sleeping peacefully. He must be more tired than usual tonight.

You gently pull his underwear down his ankles and place it on the end of the blanket he’s laying on. You carefully spread his legs and slot yourself in between them. As you begin to free your aching hard dick, you start to feel a little bad. You tell yourself to give him a huge bonus after this. You gently rub your cock along his pussy, knowing you can definitely get off just by doing this. You don't want it to hurt, at least not too much, so you decide not to penetrate him since your luck would probably run out if you tried to prep him properly.

You bite down on your lip. The view is making you feel dizzy. Your ears drown out the sounds of the thunder storm and focus entirely on Cloud. On his soft, gentle breaths and the squelching sound of his wet pussy, aroused by your cock pressing itself against it. Your heart starts to pound louder, ruining your focus on Cloud.

You let out a breathy gasp as you begin to feel your climax approaching. Your eyes flicker over to his face, watching to make sure he's still asleep. You don't know how you’ve gotten this far but you're no longer so sure that you’ll be able to stop here. Your movements stutter as your cum splatters on his body.

“Cloud..” You whisper. His lack of reaction emboldens you to keep going. You move back and slide your middle finger inside his cunt. Squelch. It sucks it in with ease, and same with your ring finger. You slowly open him up while using your free hand to jerk yourself off. He twitches. You pause and look at him before continuing.

You eventually decide to stop and finally get to the good part. You gently lift Cloud’s legs and position the tip of your cock in front of his entrance. You take your time easing into him while constantly checking if he's awake.

Once you're finally fully inside, you take a couple minutes to take everything in. You're in serious disbelief but way too horny to be concerned about it. You know that, at this point, if he wakes up, you’ll be able to overpower him.

You slowly thrust into him, happily indulging in the wonders of Cloud Strife’s pussy. You gently caress his t-dick, smiling when you start to hear him whimper. “You feel so good, Cloud– ‘s like you were made for me, to tempt me..” You murmur, gradually picking up the pace. “I didn't think it’d be so easy…”

“Maybe you're not even asleep. No properly trained soldier would sleep through something like this…I wonder if you're enjoying this. Getting off on me assaulting you in your sleep like a slut.” You notice his cheeks starting to turn red. A chill runs down your spine as you start to get a feeling your assumption is correct. “You like this, Cloud? Letting yourself get taken advantage of? Does it feel good getting treated like a cocksleeve?”

He whimpers, his cunt squeezing you.

“I know you're awake. Answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, his face flushed and deliciously seductive. “It– it feels good-!” He moans.

“Good boy.” You grin. You never would've thought Cloud would be into something like this. You roughly pound into him. He cries out in pleasure, feeling his orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside and you're gonna take it like the good kitty you are.”

“Ye- yes–!” He shuts his eyes, squirting on your dick. His mouth hangs open as the aftershocks hit him. He smiles dreamily as he feels your cum flow inside of him.

You stop and catch your breath. “Did you reject me hoping this would happen?”

Cloud nods softly. “I didn't think it would…but I wanted it to.”

…..........

He pushes you and steps back. “Don't even think about it.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He shakes his head and decides to explore the building more, far from you.

Cloud climbed the semi-intact stairs and explored the second floor of the building. There wasn't anything noteworthy inside but it did give him much needed privacy. No room to lay down but he didn't need to anyway.

He walked behind a wall to hide himself in case you decided to follow him, and unbuckled his pants. He stuck his hand down them and gently caressed his t-dick. He always knew you were attracted to him, it wasn't like you were hiding it, and he pretended that he hated it. He loves your pet names and the lustful way you look at his body. Part of him hoped that one day, you’d just force yourself on him and claim him like a prize. He didn't think it'd ever happen but he never got tired of fantasizing about it. He hoped he'd have some sort of opportunity for you to finally make your move.

He'd imagine you cornering him in the locker room showers and covering his mouth to make sure no one finds out.

Cloud sneakily rubs his sensitive nipples against the cold wall tiles as you enter him. “Shh, this is what you get for being such a tease.” You spank him, your cock forcefully entering his pussy. Cloud shivers at the sounds of your heavy breathing. He can tell how aroused you are and how much you love his body. He rolls his eyes back as you stretch him wide open, his own heavy breaths making him feel lightheaded.

Or he’d imagine you giving him an ultimatum and forcing him to submit to you in exchange for keeping his job.

Cloud fakes a look of disgust as he stares at your rock hard cock. He looks up at you then back at your length, hesitating before enveloping it in his mouth. “There you go, Cloud, finally doing what I hired you for.” You praise him. He shudders at the thought, his pussy throbbing with need. “This is what you should be doing, not out on the battlefield but here, pleasing me.”

He looks up at you, trying to look angry. You smirk and push his head down, forcing him to shift his focus back.

His latest fantasy was about being trapped together. He hoped that something would happen to keep the two of you together for a long time. And he’d tease you even more to frustrate you. Then you’d finally do it.

He didn't think that exact scenario would actually play out.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Do You Even Lift, Bro?

❄Pairing(s)❄→ Beefcake! Bucky Barnes x boyfriend reader ⚠CW⚠→ Top Bucky (no surprise), bottom male reader, manhandling, rough, slight choking kink, biting/marking, slight degradation, gay, gay-sex, rough sex, cock frottage, sweat kink, scent kink, body worshipping, and slight ass slapping ❄Rating❄→ Explicit ❄Requested❄→ yes

❄Word count❄→ 1.0k

❄Summary❄→Despite being a super-soldier and going to the gym for hours, you constantly teased him for being weak. Bucky got the memo when you told him to “prove how rough you can be, soldier.”

Read before continuing: IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 18 OR ANY OF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! 

This is my first time writing scent and sweat kink. It may be trash.

Bucky was in the kitchen, drinking a protein shake and wiping down his body. He had returned from his morning gym routine sweaty, his tank top clinging to his muscular body, showing his chiseled abs and pecs. His hair was dripping with sweat as he dried it off.

He paused his motions when he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. The super-soldier knows who it is: his boyfriend of three years. He loves you despite you teasing him about being weak. It's a joke to Bucky since he knows you love touching his muscles while making fun of him. Also, he knows you love breathing in his musky scent after a workout. 

As he predicted, you started teasing him while touching his muscles, mainly his biceps and abs. He noticed you’re naked except for underwear. The underwear you were wearing was his favorite cause it hugged your ass perfectly. He could feel a boner popping already and it didn’t help that your hands were dangerously close to his bulge.

Bucky usually gets sexually frustrated after his gym routine and you weren’t helping with your teasing. He finally snapped when you said, “Prove how rough you can be, soldier~.” 

You gasped softly as you were suddenly grabbed by the fabric of your underwear and pulled towards Bucky’s body. His metal and normal hand groping your ass and hips, kneading the soft flesh as he presses his sweaty body against yours. A loud sound rang through the kitchen as Bucky’s hand slapped your ass, grinning when the flesh jiggled from the impact. 

“This is what you wanted, slut.” Bucky growls as he pulls you closer to his sweaty body. He could see your eyes rolling back from the musky smell of his body and the sweatiness of his body. He quickly pulls his tank top off, revealing his glistening body. 

“Get to work.”

You didn’t waste a second. Your hands roam Bucky’s body, squeezing his pecs and twisting his nipples. Bucky groans as you play with his nipples before sucking on them. Your tongue swirls around the hardened flesh. The kitchen was filled with groans as Bucky clenched his teeth.

Pulling away from Bucky’s pecs, your tongue started licking every corner and crevice of Bucky’s muscular body and licking the sweat around Bucky’s neck, groaning at the salty taste of the man’s sweat. You then notice Bucky lifting his arm and showing his pits. 

Grabbing your head, Bucky forces your head into his pits. You began inhaling the sweaty and musky smell of Bucky. Your eyes rolled back, you couldn’t hold yourself back from licking them. The tangy flavor sends whirlpools in your head and the heady musk was making your cock throb with need.

Bucky grins and moans as he feels you sniffing and licking his armpit. He started pulling down both his and your underwear, his cold metal hand wrapping around both cocks. With slow strokes, his cock was rubbing against yours. “Damn, so fucking hot.” 

Your mind was shutting down. Bucky’s strong scent and his metal hand stroking both your cock and his was making your mind turn into mush. So much precum oozes from the tiny slit and it lathers both cocks generously. The feeling of Bucky’s thick cock sliding against yours made you want to cum instantly.

Suddenly, you were manhandled from Bucky’s armpit and slammed onto the kitchen island, moaning as Bucky forced your legs to spread. Using the precum and some spit, he lathers two metal fingers before pushing them slowly into your ass.

Bucky smirks as he hears your moans. His other hand slowly squeezes your neck, not cutting off any oxygen from entering your body but tight enough to feel pleasurable to you. After stretching your ass for a few minutes, Bucky rammed his large cock into your warm hole.

“You got what you wanted slut. You wanted this fucking cock… teasing me… If anything, you’re the one that’s fucking weak, already breaking from my cock.” Bucky growls as he aggressively thrusts into you. His hand squeezes your throat slightly as he rams into you.

Your eyes roll back, weakly trying to touch your cock before Bucky slaps your hand away. “You’re gonna cum hands-free. Fucking… whore… this cock is for me to touch.” Bucky says as he pulls out, leaving only the cockhead before slamming inside again. Your moans and cries of pleasure filled the kitchen as Bucky’s cock kept hitting your prostate, repeatedly slamming into it. 

Bucky groans as he feels your ass clenching around his cock, trying to suck it deeper. He pulls his hands away and grabs onto your hips. You could tell his orgasm was approaching, and so was yours. 

The sounds of slapping echoed through the quiet house, Bucky’s heavy balls slapping against your ass and his rough thrusts. Heavy breaths were exchanged as your orgasms were coming. Bucky’s grip on you tightened as he fucks into you like a wild animal while your cock throbbed and leaked copious amounts of precum on your stomach.

“Fucking cum.” Bucky groans as he gives one final thrust, pushing his cock all the way in, filling you to the hilt before spurting its big load inside. Bucky’s thick cum filling your ass was enough to cause your cock to spurt its own load on your stomach.

Bucky pulls out, watching his cum ooze out of your abused ass. Heavy breathing filled the room as both of you tried calming down. Bucky’s musky smell and the smell of sex filled the kitchen: pure heaven for you.

“Should bring you to the gym next time, could use a good cocksleeve in the shower.”

THE END

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

A/n: Hello, my strawberries! Hope this is good! If you wish to be a part of my taglist, send me a private message and I’ll add you to it. Very special thanks to my proofreader; @sagethegaywitch

TAGLIST: @hiddens-eden @spnfanboy777 @meyocoko @buckyshusband0 @zamfam4272 @raspberryyuuki @maxxioislost

[jesuistrestriste]

*NSFW drabble/thirst*

cw (18+): sub!art donaldson, sub!patrick zweig, gn dom!reader, dry humping (basically frottage), begging, orgasm denial/orgasm control, praise, desperation*, patrick is yearning, bossing the boys around + talking them through it <3

i can’t stop thinking about gently easing art donaldson and patrick zweig into submissive headspaces and then, as soon as they’re anticipating (needing) your touch, you tell them that the only way that they’re gonna be allowed to get relief is if they grind against each other <3

and the last thing they want to do is disappoint you, so they do it. and they love it.

art is whining and letting out pathetic moans as he bucks his hips up against patrick on top of him, wanting so desperately to get him as close as he is.

and patrick is moaning and trembling with pinched-up brows as he rocks down against art’s body and tries to chase a high that’s so close but just out of reach (the fabric of both of their boxers between them is too much to be able to feel everything properly!)

so you just look down at them and smile sweetly.

“Art, you seem like you���re closer than Patrick is.. is this true?” you whisper lowly.

“P-Probably.. oh god.. i’m so—i’m really close,” he squirms, “please, i’m so close…!”

You move your gaze to Patrick.

“you think Art is closer than you are right now?” you say to the brunette.

“yeah,” he pants, “y-yeah, he’s closer.. but i’m nearly there too.. just a little more..”

You shift your gaze back to Art’s and run a hand through his mess of blonde curls.

“Art, why don’t you go ahead and get Patrick there first, ok?” you speak firmly but gently.

“okay, i will,” he moans, “ill get him there first—“

He aggressively starts to smush his pelvis rhythmically up against patrick’s, his body writhing on the bedsheets below as he secretly begs for patrick to be ready to cum soon so he can stop feeling the hot ache that’s spreading all over..

“good boy. don’t cum until Patrick is cumming too.”

art nods.

patrick keens.

you chuckle and move to slide your hand from art’s hair to gently caress the length of patrick's back. art's back arches up from the mattress, and you shift your gaze back and forth between the two young men as patrick furiously meets art’s movements with his own.

“feel how desperate Art is to get you as close as he is? how desperate he is to finish with you?” you whisper.

patrick swallows thickly and nods, his eyes squeezed shut as the pleasurable warmth of his oncoming release starts to prickle in..

“i can feel it.. god, i wanna cum so badly,” he whispers shakily.

“Are you there right now?”

patrick’s eyes open briefly so he can nod at you before they flutter shut again and his hips jolt down over art’s stuttering form.

“i’m so close.. i need more from Art..”

“tell him.”

“Push harder against me… Harder… I need more pressure… I need you more against me…” patrick babbles and breathes out desperately into the neck of his counterpart.

the obedient blonde nods frantically and instantly shifts to push even more of himself up against his best friend’s body.

“good boy for using your words, patrick.. and art, you’re doing so well too.. just a bit longer.. patrick is nearly there,” you say softly to the two in front of you

after a few short moments of this depraved, needy humping, patrick lets out a loud moan and bites down on his bottom lip.

“God, Art, please,” he whispers, so close to the edge now that he can barely keep himself held up on his forearms. his hands are absolutely shaking.

“did you hear Patrick?” you coo with a slight smirk.

art can do nothing but gasp for air as he nods for a moment or two.

“i’m pushing as hard as i can..” he gulps and whines, tears pricking at his eyes as he assumes that patrick is asking for more pressure and ferocity from him.

“i know, baby.. just ask Patrick if he’s ready to cum,” you guide him.

art murmurs out a whimpery “mhm” before he squeezes patrick’s biceps in his hands and looks up into his eyes.

“Hngh.. Are you ready to cum?” he asks quickly and eagerly, his voice tinged with lewd desperation.

“God, yes! Please! Ahh-!” patrick shouts.

the two tremble and sweat, their bare chests rubbing against one another's as they grind their bodies as hard and as fast as they possibly can. art is desperately pawing at patrick's back now, and patrick has both of his hands gripping the small of art's back as they both release a string of loud, needy moans. even though there are thin layers of fabric preventing the two men from feeling each other skin-to-skin, both of them are equally hyperaware of the sensation of their clothed erections sliding and slotting up against each other's. It's heaven. it’s better than heaven. and it's been a long time coming.

you lean back, just enough to make sure that you can get a good view, and then you give in and say the magic words that they’ve both been waiting to hear all night:

“go on, boys.. you can finish.”

art's eyes snap open, while patrick's squeeze shut, and you watch closely as art's baby blues roll all the way to the back of his head. his jaw slacks and his hips arch up and shudder harshly against his friend's.

"I'm cumm--! AH! ANGHH-!" the blonde cries out, cutting his own warning off with the sound of his pleasure as he spills a warm, heavy load into his boxer briefs, "cumming so hard--!"

patrick's abdomen involuntarily curls in over itself as he humps art's bucking body with the shaky anguish of a man in a desert who's just found his first source of water in two days. in other words, he needs this. he needs him.

"Fuck! Fu-uuck! I'm cumming -- AH-! Hah, haah--!" patrick sobs, his fingers digging into arts soft, toned flesh as the heat of his sticky release floods his boxer shorts, "Art!"

The involuntary calling-out of his best friend's name surprises not only both you and the best friend in question, but also patrick. he didn't mean to, but when he felt the warmth of art's release seep out and stick to his thighs, he couldn't hold it anymore.

you're completely entranced by the obedience and sheer obscenity of the two trembling bodies in front of you, so you're unsure if they've been cumming for two minutes or two hours, but it doesn't really matter. they're gorgeously good listeners, and even better submissives. you'd definitely play with them again, as long as they were up for it. and you knew they would be.

you watch as patrick collapses on top of art in a flushed, limp heap, holding him close as both of their bodies tremble and jerk softly every so often with the aftershocks of their orgasms.

they're both pleasantly surprised when they each feel one of your hands carding your fingers through their heads of hair. their eyes are closed, and they can hardly breathe as they pant, but they are aware of this act of kindness from you. they'll take anything you give them. both of them practically start to purr.

"Breathe, boys, breathe.." you whisper lowly, stroking a soft hand over each head of messy locks.

they do as they're told, trying their best to take deep, slow breaths in and out as the fuzziness in their brains starts to dissipate as the seconds go by.

"Felt good?"

art nods slowly but insistently, while patrick mumbles out a slurred confirmation.

"it felt amazing."

"God, it was really.. that was really good..." art sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, his arms still limply draped over patrick's shoulders.

you nod, removing your touch from them to press a kiss to the nape of patrick's neck and then a kiss to art's forehead.

"I'm gonna take care of you guys now, ok?"

they nod and grunt softly, but make no attempt to sit up or pry themselves off of each other. this was going to be a long night.

notes; heyyy hehe. just wanted to write up a quick little drabble while i'm working on the two longer fics, and i NEEDED to get sub!art + sub!patrick out of my head. they were rotting in there. ps. srry this probs isn’t my best work, i started writing it at like 4 am last night lmao.

also i love writing orgasm denial and then making the reader just be like

dividers from: @benkeibear

[steddieas-shegoes]

three things

for @switcheddieweek prompt 'spit' (a little) and 'non-verbal negotiation' (mostly this one tbh)

rated e | 5395 words | also on ao3 | cw: under-negotiated kink | tags: switch eddie, switch steve, friends with benefits, bisexual steve, bondage, banter, frottage, spit kink, anal fingering, anal sex, dirty talk, choking, not actually unrequited feelings, open ending but we can play clue together

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Steve’s jittery and it’s making Eddie fucking jumpy. From the second he walked in the door, Steve’s been bustling around, moving things he doesn’t need to, taking sips of Eddie’s drink, knocking into things. Eddie’s ready to tie him to a chair and—

Well, that’s an idea.

Just as he considers acting on it, Steve groans.

“Do you think I’m too high strung?” He asks as he paces the floor anxiously.

“In this moment or in general?” Eddie has to tread carefully here. Whatever’s got Steve on edge like this needs to be taken seriously. One wrong word and Steve will shut down and it’ll be a long fucking night of trying to pull him back in.

“Like, always? Or most of the time.” Steve stops pacing, sets his gaze on Eddie where he’s sitting comfortably at the kitchen table. “Do you think I think too much about little things?”

Eddie’s brow furrows. Where the hell is this even coming from? Steve’s not usually high strung. He gets anxious sometimes, like when he knows they have to do their annual check in with the government doctors, but that’s not unreasonable. If he knows one of the kids is flying, he gets a bit nervous, but Eddie just keeps him distracted as best he can and it passes.

“Suzie mentioned that sometimes I get stuck on small problems and they ruin my day,” he continues. “Do you think that’s true?”

Suzie is going to school to be a therapist and likes to psychoanalyze her friends. It’s equal parts fascinating and annoying, especially when she talks to Steve. He takes everything she says seriously, even though she isn’t licensed yet and probably shouldn’t be giving her professional opinion to him anyway.

“I think that you do what every normal human does sometimes and catastrophize a little when you worry. It’s probably the trauma,” Eddie shrugs and stands, moving close to him, but leaving him space to get away if he needs to. He’s acting a bit like a cornered animal right now. The last thing Eddie needs to do is actually corner him. “If you think it’s harming you, maybe you could talk to a licensed therapist.”

“Suzie’s as good as licensed.” Steve folds his arms across his chest. “And she said I rely too much on you.”

“Did she?” Eddie scoffs. Steve doesn’t. Steve doesn’t rely on fucking anyone. He’d be better off if he did rely on someone more. “What made her come to that conclusion?”

“Apparently I talk about you too much. She thinks you’re my only friend.” Steve sighs. “Now that I say it out loud it does sound wrong. I have friends.”

“No shit.” Eddie grins, leans in until he can smell the cologne Steve always wears to work. “I’m just your best friend.”

“Other than Robin.”

“Other than Robin,” Eddie agrees. He straightens his back and nods his head back towards the chair he was sitting in before. “You wanna sit while I heat up leftovers?”

“Oh, not sure I can stay.” Steve suddenly won’t meet his eyes. “I uh, I have a date.”

Eddie ignores the way his heart clenches in his chest, painfully tightening. Steve’s still antsy, he can tell. He’s gonna go to his apartment and pace and worry until he has to pretend to be fine for his date. And the date won’t realize he’s faking it, that he’s pretending to be fine when he’s not. Eddie can’t let that happen.

“You should cancel.”

Steve gives him a look, one that says he knows what Eddie’s doing and he isn’t gonna fall for it. He has before, though. He probably will this time.

“She’s nice. I’m not gonna cancel just for us to fuck around. What about that guy you saw last month?” Steve snaps his fingers while he tries to remember the quite frankly unremarkable guy Eddie sucked off at a club. “Jeremy? Joey? James?”

“Isaac.”

“I was close!” Steve claps.

“Alphabetically, sure,” Eddie groans. “He was boring. Didn’t even fuck my face when I told him to. He’d probably run screaming if I showed him my plug.”

“I almost ran screaming when you showed me that thing,” Steve laughs. “I’m gonna head out. You find someone more interesting than Isaac.”

Eddie could beg. He’s done it before.

He could go along with it and wait for Steve to inevitably show back up at his place later when he didn’t get what he wanted from whoever this woman is. He’s done that before, too.

He could turn on the waterworks and guilt him into staying. That’s not something he’s tried before. Bound to work, though.

Before he can muster up the fake tears, Steve is walking around him and staring at the chair.

He looks back at Eddie and squints, then back at the chair.

Eddie waits because that’s all he can do. Steve’s either gonna leave and go on his date or he’s gonna stay and they’ll fall into their comforting pattern of being the only people who understand what the other needs.

Steve walks to the phone on the wall, grabs a piece of paper from his wallet, and angrily dials.

“Julie! Hey!” Eddie rolls his eyes, mouths Julie and makes kissy lips while Steve’s back is to him. “Sorry this is so last minute, but they need me to close tonight. Maybe next week?”

Eddie watches as Steve’s shoulders slowly relax. Julie’s probably letting him off the hook, thinking he’s such a hard worker for staying when asked. Maybe she thinks he’ll be up for a promotion, making the big bucks soon.

Eddie knows that Steve’s gonna fuck him up tonight.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, only focusing back in when the phone drops back on the hook and Steve laughs.

“You should get the ropes.”

It’s not a suggestion as much as a demand, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to do it. Steve doesn’t like getting tied up, not even if Eddie’s the one doing it, but he loves tying intricate knots around Eddie’s wrists and ankles, sometimes his chest and neck if they have time. It helps ground him, keeps his mind from wandering into anxious territory.

It’s perfect for tonight.

Eddie keeps his ropes in his closet, hung up so they don’t get tangled together. He grabs all of them, in too much of a rush to make a decision about which ones to use.

Steve’s pulled the chair to the center of the room and he’s wringing his hands together like he needs something in them. Robin mentioned getting him a keychain that doubled as a silent clicker so it would keep his hands busy when he needed it, but Steve turned it down. Maybe Eddie can convince him later.

After.

Eddie sits, holds the ropes in his lap, and waits.

Steve circles him like a predator circles their prey before they attack. He’s hot and his heart is racing, and he hopes that he can be forgiven for being selfish enough to get Steve to stay.

He kneels in front of Eddie, grabs his face in his hands, and grins.

“You wanted this.”

It’s true. But he never said it explicitly. Steve just knows. It’s why they work so well.

“I wanted you.”

It’s a bit too honest for them, but Steve doesn’t stop to take Eddie’s words in. He’s up and grabbing the rope from his hands, shoving his shoulder back until he’s almost worried it’ll bruise. Eddie’s pale and Steve’s rough and as much as he likes the reminders of what they do, he’s going to visit Wayne this weekend and doesn’t wanna risk him seeing it.

“Hey. Easy,” Eddie says with just enough bite to make Steve pause. “No bruises.”

Steve nods, apologizes, but continues his work. Eddie lets him.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

There’s something peaceful about letting Steve tie him up, making him helpless in the middle of his own apartment. He knows he’s safe, they’re both safe. He doesn’t have to feel the emptiness inside that he feels when Steve’s not with him.

He feels full, even without the plug.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie does. His eyes feel heavy for a moment and then he sees how dark Steve’s eyes are, how blown his pupils have gotten. How long has Steve been working on him? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

“Too tight?” Steve asks, for what must not be the first time. Eddie shakes his head. “Okay. I’m gonna grab the plug.”

Eddie’s not sure why, but he knows it’ll come to him eventually. He nods and waits. Steve’s only gone for a moment, familiar enough with where Eddie keeps everything to be quick.

He sets the lube and plug on the table, then turns to Eddie.

Eddie’s a bit in love with him, he has to admit. It’s pretty terrible to be in love with your best friend, especially when it’s a guy who has made it pretty clear he’s never gonna be ready for a relationship with any man, let alone Eddie.

But he drops everything to do this with him, and he comes here right after work even when he’s exhausted, even if it’s just for a few minutes, even though it’s two miles out of his way. He sleeps in Eddie’s bed when they get too high for him to get back to his place, curled up into his side or around his back. He uses Eddie’s soap in the shower and wears Eddie’s shirt when he forgets to bring the clothes he keeps here home to wash them. He leaves notes around the apartment for him to take his meds and to call Dustin and take out the trash. He does everything with love and it’s hard for Eddie to separate it sometimes.

Steve straddles his lap and waits.

It’s Eddie’s turn now. Focus.

“Gonna be good and listen to me?” Eddie asks him, voice rough.

Steve shivers in his lap. “Yeah. Tell me.”

Eddie uses all his strength to sit up a bit straighter, appear bigger. Steve loves when he’s tied up and bossing him around. He loves being told what to do while Eddie’s like this.

“You gonna stay dressed?” Eddie asks, not caring much either way. Might be hard to get the plug in, but they don’t have to do anything with it if Steve changed his mind.

“For now.”

“Then touch yourself.”

Eddie watches as Steve runs his hands down his chest, skims the edge of his shirt, slides them underneath. He wants him to strip it off, wants to see the way his nipples harden under his own touch, the way his chest hair darkens as sweat beads on his skin the more worked up he gets. He doesn’t make any noise when he pinches his own nipple, just lets out the breath he must’ve been holding for a while.

“Now the other one.”

Steve listens, stays quiet and obedient, just the way Eddie likes him.

“Feel good?” Eddie asks, but he already knows it does. Steve’s nipples are sensitive. He loves having Eddie’s teeth on them, tugging and sucking them into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I want more.”

“Greedy, but fine.” Eddie glances behind him, sees the bottle of lube. “You planning on using that or no?”

Steve follows his gaze, hands never leaving his chest. “The lube or the plug?”

“Either. Both.”

Steve shivers. “Maybe. Rather you do it later.”

Eddie’s not opposed. He likes watching Steve, but if he gets to have his hands on him later, have his plug in him, then he can wait.

“You gonna get yourself off like this then?” Eddie thinks he might be able to if they play their cards right. He’s never come just from playing with his nipples, but it doesn’t seem impossible. He’s riled up right now. On edge in every way. It might be time to try it out.

“Don’t think I can,” Steve admits, pouting his bottom lip out. It should look ridiculous, but it makes heat coil in Eddie’s stomach. He wants to bite it, suck it into his mouth and taste the spit pooling on his tongue. He wants to make him bleed so he can taste that too, find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of him. “Not without a hand on me.”

“I think you can.” Eddie laughs when Steve groans at him. “C’mon. I’ve seen you do harder things. Find a way.”

“Don’t have to be mean. I canceled a date for you,” Steve bites out, pinching his nipples again and scooting forward in Eddie’s lap. His dick is hard in his jeans, but he’s not gonna find what he needs with the way Eddie’s chest and stomach are pulled back with the ropes. Not unless he gets real close. “I’m not doing it all by myself.”

“You tied me up,” Eddie snorts. “I assumed that meant you were gonna do it yourself.”

Eddie’s own dick is straining in his jeans. It’s getting a bit uncomfortable, but he knows Steve will be pissed if he asks him to unbutton his pants. He’s supposed to sit here and take it, and Steve will sit there and do what he says. That’s how this works.

“Sit still then.” Eddie hasn’t moved, but he wants to now that Steve’s made the demand. He scoots even further up, so his dick is rubbing against Eddie’s stomach. It’d feel better if he took his pants off, but he’s stubborn. “I’m gonna get off like this.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince Eddie.

“I’ll wait.” Eddie smirks when Steve narrows his eyes at him. “Go ahead. I’ve got all night.”

His legs are a little numb from being tied and having Steve’s weight on them like this. The dining room chair isn’t exactly comfortable to begin with. He’s a little shocked it’s holding both their weight like this.

Steve ruts forward once, twice, groans before he drops his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He isn’t gonna get as much friction as he wants like this, but he can get the job done.

“That’s it. You just need something to rub your dick on, huh? Anything would work,” Eddie teases, voice low. “So desperate.”

He tries to sound annoyed or uninterested, but he knows he sounds a bit awed. Steve’s hips move faster as he talks, the room gets hotter, and the air gets thicker. Eddie gets impossibly harder in his jeans. If it’s possible to break a zipper, he may do it any minute.

Steve whimpers as he bites down on Eddie’s shoulder. He’s a bit sweaty from the day, and he knows his shirt can’t smell or taste good. Steve doesn’t seem bothered.

“Can’t believe you tied me up just to hump me like a dog,” Eddie grins around the words. “You know there’s better ways to do this.”

Steve pauses in his movements, but doesn’t sit up or move his face away from Eddie’s neck. It’s all Eddie needs to know that he can keep going like this.

“So stubborn. I should make you use the wall next time.” Steve whimpers and ruts forward. “You’d love it. I could sit here and watch. Probably hurt after a while, huh?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything. Eddie smiles to himself.

“You like when it hurts though. That’s why you can’t stop what you’re doing now.”

“Mhm. Like it when you hurt me, though.”

Eddie bites his lip. God, he does love hurting Steve. He’s so good at being hurt. Takes it so good and then gives it right back to Eddie as if he isn’t covered in bruises and scars left by Eddie’s teeth and fingers.

“I like it too,” Eddie allows himself to say. It’s important to keep the boundaries there, but sometimes he can be vulnerable. If Steve starts it, he can follow. “You gonna let me touch you?”

“Maybe in a minute.”

“You’re only hurting yourself, baby.” Eddie rolls his shoulders, breath hitching at the way it tugs the ropes tighter around his wrists for a moment. Baby is allowed. Steve said it first months ago, one of the first times they did this, and it stuck. It’s fine, especially when it’s slightly mocking like this. “I could make it feel so good. You know I take care of you.”

Steve tenses, almost like he’s going to come, then groans and pulls his head back, looking at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie looks back at him, calculating, trying to get a read on what’s going on in his head.

He’s still unsure what truly caused his panic earlier, other than Suzie’s words. Something had to, though. He’s still sifting through it, not quite over the tension.

And then it hits him.

His date.

Steve hasn’t had a real date in months. He’s definitely done questionable things in bar bathrooms, but he hasn’t taken a girl out since…

Since they started this.

Eddie rushes to think back to what Suzie told him, thinks about things Steve probably left out of his explanation. How quick he was to cancel the date once he knew what was on offer.

Steve struggles with being the one to call the shots. Not just in bed, but always. He always asks others to choose what they do, and usually tries to leave another adult in charge as often as he can.

Other than life or death situations, Steve Harrington likes to follow someone else’s lead.

This thing they have, whatever it may be, it works. Eddie calls the shots a lot, but there’s still times when Steve’s in charge. Like now, when Eddie’s tied up, completely at his mercy. He may be encouraging Steve to do things, but he’s not the one making the decisions, not really.

It’s Steve’s safe place to call the shots. Eddie’s his safe space. Not this girl he was going to take to dinner or a movie or back to his place.

“Hey.” Eddie wants his hands free, but it’s selfish. His mind is reeling as he thinks of a way to do this without making Steve lose the control he has. “You’re gonna do something for me.”

It’s another demand, but he knows Steve will listen.

“What?” Steve asks, flushed and struggling not to find any more friction.

“Tell me three things you want me to do.”

Steve’s shaking and Eddie doesn’t know if it’s from being so close to the edge or from nerves or from being overwhelmed with all of it at once. He’s never looked so unsure when they’re doing this, not even the first time when they hadn’t figured out how to communicate yet.

“Like…now?”

“I want you to answer now, but it can be stuff you want me to do later.”

Everything shifts again; A whine marks the moment that Steve gives in.

“Can you-”

“No.” Eddie leans in, gets close enough that he can feel Steve’s breath against his own lips. “Don’t ask me. Tell me.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath, closes his eyes, and relaxes his shoulders. Eddie watches, waits patiently. His legs are starting to get tingly, almost painfully so. The feeling comes and goes as Steve shifts in his lap, moving weight from one leg to the other and then settling on both.

“Open me up.” Steve says so quietly Eddie almost asks him to repeat it. “I want four fingers.”

“Four? You sure?” Eddie’s never given him four. Steve’s never given himself four as far as he knows.

“Yeah. I can take it.”

“Okay. That’s one,” Eddie wants to kiss him, but he won’t. He can’t. Even if he weren’t tied up, he wouldn’t. “Another one.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Steve pauses like he’s going to say more. Eddie waits again, less patiently now that he knows what the next hour might entail. “In your bed.”

The silence that follows his request is louder than their breaths, louder than the thud, thud, thud of their hearts beating in their chests.

They don’t do that. They do a lot of shit, but they don’t do that. They fuck on the couch, the chair, against the wall, the shower, the floor. Never the bed. Not Eddie’s, not Steve’s.

It’s like kissing, in a way: silently forbidden.

Steve tenses when Eddie doesn’t respond. He starts to scoot back to get up, but Eddie lets out a noise close to a whine. He wants to move his hands, grip Steve’s hips so hard that there’s no way he doesn’t have bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning.

“What’s the third thing?” Eddie asks, making sure he knows he needs to stay right where he is.

Steve doesn’t say it. He’s pushing Eddie, seeing how far Eddie will push back. He could get up right now, go to Eddie’s bed, and they’ll forget all about the third thing. Eddie will let it be left in this room, never to be mentioned again.

“I’ll tell you later.”

He should insist on it now, but he won’t. Steve’s taking the reins now.

“Untie me.”

Mostly.

Steve works quickly, letting the ropes fall to the floor as Eddie slowly moves his limbs to get feeling back. He shivers when Steve’s fingers brush against his wrist, pulse speeding up under his careful touch.

“Anything hurt?” Steve asks, checking in the way Eddie showed him to the first time. Eddie taught him a lot of things. “Need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m good,” Eddie smiles, a real one, a soft one. Something almost too gentle for what they’re doing. “Let’s get in bed.”

He almost forgets to grab the lube and plug on the table behind him, but remembers when he watches Steve adjust himself in his pants and awkwardly half-waddle out of the room. He wants to use them when they’re done, after Eddie’s fucked him until he can’t talk.

Steve’s finally undressing, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. It feels like they belong there, like they could find a home in Eddie’s laundry basket, and then in his closet. Like pieces of Steve could stay.

Steve looks good in his bed, on his back, parting his legs. His hand cups his balls, lifts them as if he’s showing off exactly where he wants Eddie to go. Eddie’s dick leaks at the thought of being inside him.

He could probably lick him open and shove inside him with no argument, even though it would be uncomfortable and probably a little too painful even for Steve’s taste. He likes feeling the pinch of too much, the drag of skin that should be wetter. Maybe next time.

Eddie’s not gonna be mean like that, but he is gonna be quick. He’s not patient enough to take his time the way Steve may have thought he would.

He spits on Steve’s dick as he settles between his legs.

“Keep touching yourself. Don’t come,” he orders, pouring lube onto his fingers. “If you come, we stop.”

Steve whimpers and nods, accepts the challenge for what it is. His hand moves slow, languid in finding the perfect level of pleasure to keep him on the edge but not sending him over.

Eddie starts with two fingers, a happy medium between the pain Steve likes and the pain Eddie wants to try someday. It’s still enough to have Steve tighten around him, letting out a noise he’s never made before.

Eddie pauses and raises a brow up at him. Steve relaxes. Eddie continues.

He’s not gentle, but he could be a lot rougher. He has one purpose: open Steve up. He doesn’t even try to find his prostate until he’s ready to add the fourth finger that Steve wanted so bad.

Steve’s barely moving his hand anymore, just squeezing the base of his cock like it’s the only thing keeping him on earth. He’s burning up inside and out, sweat building on his thighs, darkening the hairs just enough to be noticeable.

As soon as Eddie pushes the fourth finger into him, Steve goes still and silent. Any sign of the anxious mess of a person who was pacing his kitchen floor earlier is long gone.

Eddie only gives him a second before he moves, pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in. It’s tight, really tight.

“Gotta relax or I can’t fuck you like you wanted,” Eddie reminds him. He looks down at where he’s stretching Steve, watches his hole flutter around his fingers as he desperately tries to relax. “Bet I could get my whole hand in if I used more lube.”

Eddie’s actually not sure he could with how tight Steve is now with just four, but Steve pants, nods like he agrees. Maybe they can try that, too.

Now that the bed is an option, Eddie could try a lot of things. So could Steve. Eddie thinks feeling his entire hand inside him might be enough to send him over the edge, dick untouched.

Steve finally relaxes enough around him so he can move and there has to be a direct connection between his fingertips and his own dick with how it jumps when he stretches his fingers. He’s sweating now, too, using his free hand to brush the hair off his shoulder for a moment.

“Your hand’s so big,” Steve whines, lifting his legs back further with what little strength he has left. ”So much.”

Eddie agrees. He’s watching how much he’s stretching him out and thinks it should be impossible.

He feels lost right now, shocked into watching what he’s doing rather than doing what the logical next step is: getting his dick inside Steve. It’s mesmerizing.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is unsure. “Look at me.”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to his face, unblinking.

“You need me to tell you what I want?” Steve asks, letting his legs fall to the bed. The new angle shifts his fingers so they brush against Steve’s prostate. He bites back a moan, but so does Eddie. “Let me.”

Eddie nods. He can’t fucking think for himself right now. Some switch flipped when he saw the way Steve took him, and he’s not sure he can switch it back by himself.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself wet.”

He does it. How can he not when Steve is taking deep breaths to keep himself calm? How can he not when he’d do anything that Steve asks of him?

He misses Steve around his fingers, misses the heat of it, the warmth that ran from his hand to his chest. The direct link is gone, even if just for a moment.

Eddie spits on his hand, makes the glide of his hand easier. He knows not to come, but he knows he could. Steve’s eyes are on him, watching and assessing, figuring out what he’ll do next.

Steve isn’t the type to drag this on. He doesn’t like delaying his own pleasure. He’ll make Eddie come inside him the way they both want, he knows that.

But he still worries this will be the time he can’t hold back, that Steve will watch him until he comes and then the night will be done.

“Just the tip.” Steve’s words make Eddie whine. It’s not enough, but it might be too much. “Take it slow.”

Eddie leans down, lines himself up. The moment he’s inside Steve, he groans and his brain resets, focuses.

He waits for Steve to say he can give him more. He wants to give him more, he needs-

“More.” Steve is barely holding it together at this point, Eddie can tell from the way his voice shakes and his hand grips Eddie’s shoulder like his life depends on it. “Slow.”

Eddie goes slow. One inch further, one degree warmer.

Another inch and Steve’s grip is harder, bringing him back to earth.

He shares a look with Steve, sending the message that he’s good, he wants to take things from here. Steve will let him.

“You’re so good,” Eddie groans against his mouth as he kisses him, pushes in until he feels tight heat surrounding him completely. “Always so good for me.”

Steve tightens around him, legs wrapping around Eddie’s back and tugging him closer. It feels too much like something he can hold onto, something way more than what it’s supposed to be. He doesn’t comment on it. He can’t.

Steve tilts his head back, lids heavy as he begs Eddie for something only Eddie can give him.

He wraps a hand around Steve’s throat, squeezes once, and fucks into him hard.

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s wrist, his silent permission to keep going, understanding of what he has to do for this to keep going.

They’ve never properly talked about this. It’s stupid and Eddie knows he needs to be careful.

He is. He’s always careful with Steve.

He only does it twice more, but it’s enough to have Steve pushing back against him, asking for more. Eddie removes his hand, grazes it down his chest, grips at his chest hair and tugs.

Steve yelps and Eddie smirks. “Thought you liked when I was mean,” he says to be extra mean. “You beg me to be rough all the time.”

“Be rough. But slow.”

Eddie is too close to go slow, but he thinks Steve’s in the same boat. He can probably get away with a few minutes of being rough before he comes.

“Wanna taste you,” Steve says, and it sounds like it might be the third thing he wanted. Eddie’s not sure what he means, though. They don’t kiss so it can’t be that. “Please, let me taste you.”

Eddie holds his chin, considers his next move as he fucks into him once, twice, grinds into him until they’re both breathless. He digs his fingers in, keeps Steve’s jaw open.

He leans in close enough to feel Steve’s breath in his own mouth.

“You wanna taste me?” He whispers.

“Yes.”

Eddie licks Steve’s bottom lip, so quick he could almost convince himself it didn’t actually happen.

Then he spits. Right in Steve’s mouth, watches it pool on his tongue.

Steve swallows it without being told to, closes his eyes and groans. He looks blissed out, cheeks red and forehead shining with sweat. He’s never been more beautiful, never made Eddie want to devour him quite like this.

It’s hard to keep things slow after that, but god, he tries. He would do anything for Steve, but he’s only human. He can’t be this close for much longer.

Steve’s eyes open and he doesn’t have to say anything for Eddie to know he’s too close to keep going.

They come seconds apart, so close Eddie’s not even sure who got there first.

Eddie fucks into him until he physically can’t anymore, wincing when it’s too much for his softening dick. He always pushes too much.

Steve lets out a laugh as Eddie falls to the side, grunting when his cheek smacks against Steve’s arm. He sighs and rests his lips against the skin there, scared to bring attention to it, but not wanting to put space between them yet.

It’s quiet for a while, their breathing evening out slowly as they come down. He still doesn’t move, but his brain’s starting to catch up and he’s left wondering something. He probably shouldn’t ask.

“What’s the third thing you want me to do?” Eddie asks anyway.

Steve is still, and Eddie thinks he hears his breath hitch.

His other hand comes up, resting gently on Eddie’s head. It’s a heavy weight on him, making him hotter when he’s already overheated. A comfort when he’s been giving and taking so much.

“Love me.”

Eddie should be more surprised to hear it maybe. He doesn’t even have a reaction at first, just soaks in the words.

Loving Steve Harrington has been easy so far, even though it’s been in silence. Understanding who he is, what he likes, what makes him tick, all of it has been a gift.

Even when he overthinks things, even when he’s high strung.

But loving Steve Harrington loudly, in the way he needs, the way he craves, might be even easier.

So he lets his lips pucker, kisses Steve’s arm.

“Is that all?” He asks, looking up at Steve with a smile.

[redr0sewrites]

t. shigaraki nsfw alphabet

🥀A/n: yk the smuts gonna be good when the CW is longer than the authors note ...

🥀Cw: smut, switch!shigaraki, hand kink, dry humping, marking/biting, choking, frottage, cumming untouched, humiliation, scent kink, praise, somnophilia, corruption, mild coercion/aphrodisiac mention, etc

🥀 divider

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

probably not really used to giving OR receiving aftercare or just like? that type of intimacy in general? he's definitely very inexperienced relationship wise, but there's also the fact that he's simply not very good at expressing his feelings, and because sex is so vulnerable, he struggles a lot with the aftercare process. he doesn't mean to be negligent, he's just not used to it. probably just kinda lays there for the first few times you sleep together, but would secretly love to be pampered or taken care of, even though he'd never admit it!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

really struggles with picking a favorite body part of his, especially considering both his upbringing and his quirk. however, i think he'd say his eyes, as he's very attentive and observant, along with the fact that theyre unique and a bit unsettling as well. he kinda likes the intimidation factor, but also likes that you think they're pretty. when it comes to you, i definitely think he's a tits guy through and through. whether you have boobs or not, Tomura just loves your chest. if you have boobs, he loves watching them jiggle, he loves toying with your nipples, loves palming them and marking them and just. everything about your chest. whenever he sees you in a low cut top he's drooling. however, i also think he would really enjoy your hands. they're a lot gentler than his own, and you treat him so kindly, he truly didn't know that so much tenderness could be stored in such simple gestures. he loves how soft they are compared to his, but also,,,,, he thinks its hot when you get super touchy with him. loves seeing your hands pleasure him, seeing your hands that are normally so gentle and sweet wringing orgasm after orgasm out of his spent cock... urgh. does something to him. he probably has a weird repressed hand kink but, again, would never admit it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

nasty about it. wants you to cum in him, and if you can't, then on him is the next best option. loves eating you out or giving you head and absolutely sucking you dry, he treats wasting even a drop of your cum as a complete disappointment. also really enjoys cumming in you, on you, just making a mess. likes filling you up and then finger fucking it back inside you, the soft squelching and overall possessiveness is just really hot to him. its not even a breeding kink, moreso a claiming sort of mindset? either way, he wants to be fucked full of your cum or vice versa.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

i think he's a bit of a pervert soooo he probably has a lot. starting off strong, this isn't really a huge secret but his favorite method of masturbation is pillow humping. he wasn't sure if his quirk could work on himself for the majority of his life, and obviously he was not eager to find out, so the only way he could really get off was through grinding or humping something (this led to him having a huge thigh/boot/dry humping kink,,,). also watches a shit ton of porn and hentai but also plays like horny videogames as well, like cloud meadow type stuff. has a secret fancy for tentacle porn or really nasty defilement type of porn, coercion, stepcest, monsterfucking, age gap and heavy power dynamics, etc. finally, his worst and probably most perverted secret is that he is a serial clothes stealer... but particularly underwear and panties. absolutely jacks off to your scent on your underwear and will keep it for himself. he will not tell you about it but would be flustered if you caught him,,, but he lowkey wants to be caught

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

none. he really never had experience before you, he's a virgin who spent most of his life focused on his masters plan and revenge. hes watched a shit ton of porn and filth, so he knows how sex works, and honestly he thinks that he's got a lot more skill than he actually does because of that, but then the first time you actually fuck him he gets super submissive and overstimulated because hes just soooo sensitive. you'll definitely have to take the lead.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

when hes bottoming, probably doggy or mating press, and when hes topping he definitely likes it when you ride him- but i also really think he'd like simple missionary or mating press too. when he's bottoming or subbing Tomura gets a lot more embarrassed about his reactions and the faces he makes, so he prefers for you to be rough and shove his face in the sheets than deal with the intimacy and vulnerability of eye contact. meanwhile, when he's feeling more dominant or topping, he LOVES to see your face and reactions- so he's a bit of a hypocrite. this is very specific to post league/paranormal liberation front Shigaraki, but since he's so much physically stronger and more built, he would absolutely LOVE. to fuck you while holding you against a wall to showcase his strength.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

other than the occasional breathy chuckle or snarky comment i don't think he's very humorous. he's not even super intense or serious either, he just gets very overwhelmed and needy and doesn't really feel the need to joke around if that makes sense ? if you do or say something funny though he will laugh, and when he's (very rarely) topping sometimes he'll be demeaning and make fun of you but he's not being super humorous, its moreso dirty talk.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

happy trail happy trail happy trail urgrhssbsnnnngghhhh DEFINITELY has the prettiest pale blue happy trail on his tummy and base. probably doesn't shave very often but keeps the hair short by trimming it so there's always a bit of length to it. carpet matches the drapes so immaculately that you'd think he dyes his pubes but no he's just. Like That.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

takes a while for him to be very intimate i think, but his first "i love you" probably slips out during sex. once he's comfortable in a relationship, which takes a long time, Tomura is much more romantic and vulnerable during sex, but at the start he's mostly just looking for a way to ease his arousal. he's probably a lot more loving when he's submissive, i think he'd be a little mean when he's dominant (not that he can't be mean and bratty when he's submissive, its just lessened,,,)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

very often, and probably prefers to hump something rather than simply jerk himself off. i think that Tomura probably wasn't sure if his quirk could work on himself for a good portion of his life, and so that caused some difficulties when it came to masturbation- however, pillow humping was genuinely the next best option, and so when he needs to get off quickly thats probably what he opts for. however, he does jack off with gloves on sometimes, but overall i think he prefers humping and grinding. there's something about the desperation of it that turns him on. he's also a very avid porn watcher, and masturbates to some filthy things.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ohhh he has a lot. marking/biting, choking (giving and receiving), mild roleplay, pegging (although he won't admit it), hand kink, spit kink, frottage, cumming untouched, humiliation (giving and receiving), mild voyeurism, scent kink, feminization (but it would take a little while to convince him), PRAISE, somnophilia, corruption (giving and receiving- likes if you're more experienced than him but also enjoys corrupting you- esp in roleplay), mild coercion/aphrodisiac kink, and probably so much more. down to try anything you want tbh

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

anywhere private. surprisingly doesn't initiate a lot of public sex as he's a bit meticulous about his process and doesn't want to be interrupted. he doesnt mind public sex but prefers the comfort of his own home- or whatever base the league's currently in. however he enjoys the thrill and risk of being caught, so he'll sometimes be risky around the LOV and such. if you enjoy public sex however, he has no qualms about teasing you or being bratty where others may catch you. it honestly depends on how he's feeling.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally just. you existing. sometimes its a wet dream, other times its seeing you in a cute outfit, a lot of the times its the scent of your perfume/cologne or just the smell of you that gets him going- truly does not matter. Tomura has a pretty high sex drive but is simultaneously very touch starved and inexperienced before meeting you, so he's practically insatiable. seeing you flustered turns him on as well, but also being flustered by you is a major turn on. also gets really horny when you praise him a lot or if you're INTENTIONALLY trying to turn him on. you expressing that you actually want him is probably his number one turn on, he just loves feeling wanted by you if that makes sense ?

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

the gloves stay on during sex. he wants no chance that he could accidentally hurt you (or worse) with his quirk. also, i think Tomura would actually be against anything that would make you scared of him if that makes sense ? he doesn't trust himself to not hurt you, and in all honesty doesnt want to scare you away. he's very afraid that you'll leave him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers receiving i think. doesnt mind giving either, but hes a LOT more inexperienced and you'll have to teach him!! whether you have a dick or pussy the only experience with giving head that Tomura has is solely based on porn, nothing else. the first time he tries it with you he's verrryyy awkward and needs lots of instructions and gentle guidance but once he's a bit more used to it ? i genuinely think he'd be pretty good at it. however overall he genuinely does prefer receiving, and urghhh the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around his dick has him cumming every time.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on your mood and how pissed off he is, also depends on how dominant or submissive he's feeling yk? most of the time he's very much a fan of rough and fast but passionate sex, yet sometimes he really juts wants to be pampered and taken care of.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Tomura appreciates them, but prefers longer, drawn out sessions. sure, he'll take any opportunity to fuck you, but would much rather have no interruptions and get to take his time with you. doesn't mean he won't occasionally indulge though, and sometimes intentionally pisses you off in public so that you'll drag him to a nearby alleyway or bathroom just to fuck him silly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes. absolutely into risks, experimentation, pretty much anything you want to try is on the table if only because he wants to please you and is very curious about kinks in general. HOWEVERR, he will not risk anything in terms of his quirk. the gloves stay on or his hands are tied and away- he simply refuses to accidentally hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i'd say its okay? nothing special but not terrible either. at first it isn't so great since he's so inexperienced, but Tomura makes up for his lack of stamina with his lust and how cute he is when overstimulated. he lasts a lot longer when he's subbing, and a lot of the time when he's topping he'll revert to bottoming at the end simply because he's still horny but doesn't too tired to put in more effort.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Tomura probably owns one or two but they're very basic, like a pocket pussy/fleshlight and maybe a vibrator, but otherwise he doesn't have much. PLEASE teach him the wonders of a dildo and bullet vibrator it would change his LIFE. when it comes to using toys he's very much down to try it out, i don't think thats something he'd be against. i think Tomura would be a bit more nervous about trying out toys on himself rather than you but he will try it if you want him to. he really likes teasing you with a vibrator, especially a remote controlled one. you both have definitely gotten a bit freaky in public with concealed vibrators more than once.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

would love to tease but is too impatient for it!!! he's also so wrapped around your finger that he gives in whenever you flutter your lashes at him and beg, he's just too down bad and hopelessly horny for u. he'll try to be mean or edge you but the second your pleading w him and calling him "Tomu.." he's giving in and letting you cum. in addition to this, he has a love/hate relationship with being teased himself and a LOT of the times it depends on his mood. sometimes he's too irritated and if you tease him he'll either get really angry or just cry and lowkey melt down, but then other times he's being super bratty and just wants to be put in his place. it takes a little while to navigate but the closer you both become and the more prevalent your sex lives become, the better you get at reading him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

super quiet at first, he's very embarrassed about making noise and the best you'll get are soft grunts and panting. however once he eases up he gets a lot more vocal, especially when he's bottoming. he also has a tendency to be a bit of a babbler when he's close, and the first time you get him so overstimulated that he starts pleading as he cums he gets so embarrassed as though it wasn't the hottest thing you've ever witnessed.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

blushes all over his face, and his ears too !!! its very obvious when he's flustered or needy. along with this, he's very sensitive, especially his thighs. theyre one of the softest places on his body, and he really likes it when you bite and mark them. ALSO. a sucker for eye contact. he hates being vulnerable so he absolutely avoided eye contact when you both started having sex, until one day he realizes that he's just. in love with you. and looks you in the eyes as you're both cumming and its the best decision he's ever made. now he can't keep his eyes off you during sex, but still sometimes gets embarrassed...

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's a grower for sure. starts off at around 5 inches, pretty average, but grows to around 7 or maybe even 7.5. his cock is thick at the base but thins out a bit, with a pretty pretty pretty pink tip and heavy balls. has a BEAUTIFUL happy trail that's a very pretty shade of pale blue down his lower tummy and base. also his dick is very expressive if that makes sense? he's very twitchy and sensitive and he had a LOT of precum.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

very high, you sleeping with him opens up a whole new world of possibilities for him and all of the desires that he's basically ignored his whole life come rushing forward and suddenly he's horny constantly. this probably occurs even before you both start dating, and its absolute TORTURE for him lmao. before you he never even thought that much about sex outside of porn or masturbation, but once he starts crushing on you he's having dirty dreams, getting random hard ons, waking up w morning wood, URGH he's just very worked up. but yea. all this to say, he has a very high sex drive n is very horny all the time

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

almost immediately, you make him feel very safe and he just passes out. he's very clingy too, and needs to be holding yoh in his sleep. especially at the start of the relationship, Tomura is at his most vulnerable after sex, and truly just wants to be held :( he's just super sleepy n docile and very cute. this is also great if you're into somno because he would very much enjoy you riding him while he just. nods off beneath you. because a lot of the time he's still a bit horny but too sleepy to continue.. its just a win win situation. maybe im just yapping now but i read a while ago about a study where you fall asleep and feel your most tired around the people you feel safest with and i think that applies here.

this is nawt proof read i fear im too lazy 😭😭😭 ANYWYAS !!! ITS DONE !!! i love him so bad hes so fine hes so fine hes so fine i need him. im in my period so im especially horny rn lmao so feel free to send in any bnha thirsts or asks etc

[fkinkindagauche]

Somebody Has to Arrange the Matches

This is a prompt fill for @steddiebingo Round One, prompt "Dustin Henderson". Full fic on AO3.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 5,398 | CW: None | Tags: Dustin Henderson parent trap, gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington speed runs his sexuality crisis, first kiss, mutual pining, friends to lovers, frottage

Summary: Dustin is adamant that Eddie Munson deserves to find love, after all he's been through. Once Dustin figures out some things about Eddie, he gets to work making it happen.

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie was being cagey again.

It had become Dustin's personal mission now that Eddie was out of the hospital to get the man a girlfriend. As far as Dustin could tell from his probing questions to the Corroded Coffin guys, Eddie had never had a girlfriend, which was honestly shocking to Dustin. Sure, Eddie could be pretty over the top, but everyone liked him. And it wasn't like he was ugly. So he must just be too shy or something. Dustin wanted to help.

Dustin currently had him cornered in Gareth's garage, away from the rest of the group. They'd just finished a D&D session at Gareth's house, with a Corroded Coffin practice scheduled after. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will were waiting for Steve to pick them up before the practice started. Dustin was doing his utmost to get Eddie to go out with one of Robin's band geek friends, but Eddie was resisting all of his attempts.

"Henderson, no." Eddie sounded exactly like Steve did after Dustin had asked for a ride about ten times, trying to get a no to magically change to a yes. "I'm not going to ask Veronica out."

"Why not?" Dustin asked, voice raised. "She's a huge nerd, she flirts with you, like, non-stop, and she's hot."

Eddie sighed. "I'm just not into her."

Dustin groaned, tugging his hands through his hair in frustration. "Are you into anyone? Every time I bring someone up, you shoot the option down."

"Well, I don't like your options, bud. They're not good options."

"That's objectively false!" Dustin yelled. "Most guys would kill for some of the options I've presented!" Why did Eddie have to be like this?

"How can it be objectively false?" Eddie shot back. "It's literally my opinion. The definition of subjective."

Dustin glared at him. He hated when Eddie tried to outsmart him. He hated how often it worked. Steve drove up just as Dustin was opening his mouth for a rebuttal.

"Thank the fucking Lord," Eddie muttered. "Please take this young whippersnapper off of my hands before I kill him," Eddie yelled to Steve when he got out of his car.

"Oh, great," Steve said. "Can't wait to spend the next 15 minutes with a feisty Henderson in my car."

God, they were both such turds sometimes. Dustin sighed loudly and stomped over to Steve's car. "This isn't over, Munson!" he called over his shoulder. Eddie flipped him off in response.

He grabbed the passenger seat before Mike, Lucas, or Will even made it to the car, much to their chagrin. Steve chatted with Eddie for a few moments, Eddie leaning into his space as per usual, slinging an arm over Steve's shoulder.

Dustin leaned over and honked the horn.

"Really, Dustin?" Steve yelled, hands on his hips.

"Some of us have places to be!" Dustin yelled back.

"Where do you have to be?" Lucas asked from the backseat.

Dustin shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing."

Steve spent a few more moments talking to Eddie, probably just to piss Dustin off, then came back to the car.

Dustin gave Steve 30 seconds to adjust, watching the time tick by on his watch. He'd been told off one too many times for immediately starting an interrogation, so this was his compromise with the world. As soon as his watch hit the 30 second mark, he started in.

"So why doesn't Eddie ever date anyone?" Dustin asked, talking over whatever conversation Mike and Will had been having in the back.

Steve glanced at Dustin with a confused expression on his face. "What?"

"From the intel I've gathered, Eddie's never had a girlfriend," Dustin said. "He turns down all of my suggestions for potential dates. But if anyone deserves a girlfriend, it's him. He's, like, a hero. I want to help him find his Suzie."

"Excuse me, what am I? Chopped liver?" Steve interjected. "Why aren't you trying to find me a girlfriend?"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "You've had a million girlfriends, Steve. Give some of the other poor dudes a chance."

"Yeah, Steve. You're kind of hogging the eligible young women of Hawkins," Mike piped up from the back seat.

"I haven't had a girlfriend since Nancy," Steve protested.

"But you do still get around," Dustin insisted.

"Whatever, man." Steve shook his head. "Why don't you let Eddie do his own thing? Maybe he's just picky."

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, not responding. Steve was wrong. Eddie deserved his own Suzie. And Dustin wasn't going to give up on helping him find her.

"So I saw this girl the other day at the arcade," Dustin started. He and Eddie were at the trailer, painting some miniatures. It was his mom's night working late, and Dustin had started spending it with either Eddie or Steve on alternating weeks.

Eddie groaned. "Not again, Henderson. Can't we go, like, one day without this shit?"

"But Eddie! I think you'd really like her. She had a mohawk. Dyed pink. And her nose was pierced."

Eddie dropped his head into his hands, smearing some red paint on his cheek. He stayed that way for a few moments, quieter for much longer than usual. Dustin worried for a moment that he might have broken him. When Eddie finally looked up, his face was serious in a way it almost never was. He reached out for Dustin's hand.

"Dustin. I'm about to tell you something, and you cannot freak out about it. And you can't tell anyone else about it, either. Am I clear?" Usually, Dustin would have thought a joke was coming after an intro like that from Eddie. But he seemed completely earnest this time, so Dustin actually considered what he'd asked.

"What about Suzie?" Dustin asked. "Can I tell Suzie?"

Eddie sighed. "Yeah, you can tell Suzie."

"Alright," Dustin said. "I agree to your terms. No freak out, no telling anyone other than Suzie."

Eddie nodded. "Okay." He took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm gay, Dustin."

It took Dustin a second for his brain to parse what he'd just heard. Eddie. Heavy metal band member, dungeon master Eddie.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Dustin squeaked. He must have misheard.

"I'm gay," Eddie repeated. "Queer, fruity, a homo, a friend of Dorothy, a fairy. I like men. That's why none of your options have sounded remotely appealing to me. That's why I've never had a girlfriend."

Dustin sat back in his chair, stunned. A lot of things were making sense now.

"Oooookay," Dustin said, nodding. So now he had to find Eddie a boyfriend. More difficult, but he liked a challenge. "So what's your type? We can find you a boyfriend."

Eddie barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. He looked relieved. "Are you serious? That's your only question, what's my type?"

"Of course that's not my only question, who do you think I am?" Dustin was a little offended. "That's just my most pressing question."

"I think this is the best response I've gotten so far to coming out," Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Dustin felt pretty good about that. "Well? Are you gonna answer?"

Eddie chuckled. "I should've known this wouldn't make you give up your weird crusade." He pulled a few strands of hair in front of his mouth, chewing on the ends while he thought. "My type? I'm not totally sure, honestly, haven't had much of a chance to find out, living in Hawkins. I guess probably my height or maybe shorter, but not much taller. On the masculine side of things, almost the jock physique. Hairy. Brunette."

Dustin nodded after each characteristic, mentally taking note. "Those are all physical things. What about personality?"

Eddie had to think a little harder about that one, looking into the distance. "Um. Kinda goofy, I guess? Not too macho. Sense of humor." Eddie trailed off and looked at Dustin sharply. "Henderson, if you go around asking the men of Hawkins if they're queer so you can try to find a date for me, you're gonna get beat to shit."

Dustin held up his hands. "You really think I'm that stupid? Give me some credit here, Eddie."

"You have a track record of failing to read the room, man," Eddie pointed out.

That absolutely wasn't true. Dustin was very tactful. He could be quite subtle when he wanted to be. Eddie just never got to see that side of him.

"I'll be careful," Dustin insisted. "I'm not gonna ask anyone if they're gay."

"Alright," Eddie said, but he didn't look convinced. Dustin would show him.

The idea hit Dustin the next week, when he was spending his mom's late work night with Steve. They were out by the pool, and Steve's hairy chest was on full display, with all of its muscles. Dustin had Suzie, and she didn't want him to be muscular, but sometimes when he saw Steve's chest he couldn't deny the twinge of jealously.

Hairy. Muscular jock physique. Something was tickling at the back of Dustin's mind. Brunette. What was that? About as tall as Eddie.

Oh shit. Dustin dropped his Dr. Pepper as Steve yelled "COWABUNGA" and did a cannonball into the water. Kinda goofy.

It was Steve. Eddie had basically been describing Steve. Did Eddie even know? Had he been secretly pining after Steve this whole time? Or was it still subconscious?

Holy shit. But Steve liked girls. How was Dustin gonna make this work? Did he need to find a Steve doppelganger somewhere who was gay?

Steve popped out of the water, shaking his hair. He looked up at Dustin and the Dr. Pepper spilled all over the patio. "Everything alright there?" Steve asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Dustin nodded. "I- I'm good. Everything's fine!"

Steve shrugged and dove back under the water.

Dustin did some research over the next few days. If he was going to find a gay Steve doppelganger for Eddie, he needed to understand the culture - where he could find other queer people, the types of phrases they used to identify each other without being too blatant, that kind of stuff.

He tried finding books at the library, but came up empty-handed and probably on some sort of list the librarian kept of degenerates. So he had to resort to asking Eddie where he got all his information.

"Why do you wanna know?" Eddie asked with a suspicious glare.

"I just wanna understand you, man!" Dustin insisted, putting on his most innocent expression. "You're my friend, I wanna know what's going on with you."

Eddie reluctantly handed Dustin some zines he'd picked up in Indianapolis. "None of the raunchy stuff," Eddie said. "I'm not getting arrested for dealing gay pornography to minors."

Dustin made a disgusted face. "You could have just… not told me you even had raunchy stuff."

Eddie shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

Dustin spent hours that night poring over the zines, learning the lingo. He discovered an incredibly interesting fact in one of the zines - the existence of bisexuality. You could like both men and women. You didn't have to be either gay or straight.

This fact blew Dustin's mind, and the seeds of a different plan took root. What if Steve was bisexual, and he didn't even know it? That would be the easiest, most logical solution to the Eddie problem. Steve was Eddie's type; so what if Eddie was also Steve's type?

He talked about it with Suzie the following evening. She'd been shocked to learn that Eddie was gay. Mormons weren't exactly accepting of homosexuality. But she'd always played a little fast and loose with certain aspects of Mormonism, so Dustin was able to bring her around to the idea eventually.

"I don't know, Dusty Buns," she said as they were discussing his idea about Steve. "I don't think you can just make someone be bisexual."

"I'm not gonna make him be bisexual," Dustin insisted. "I'm just gonna try to show him that he already is."

"But what if he isn't?" she shot back.

"Then I'll go back to the doppelganger plan," he said with a sigh. "But I have to try. This is the simplest solution. Occam's razor."

"Dusty Buns, you know you're not using that correctly right now," Suzie scolded.

Dustin sighed. She never let him get away with anything.

Dustin paid a lot more attention to Steve and Eddie's interactions over the next few weeks. Now that he knew Eddie was gay, he couldn't believe he'd missed the signs pointing to his crush on Steve.

Eddie gravitated to Steve like a moth to a flame. It was like he had some sort of Steve-related sixth sense, his head immediately turning toward Steve whenever the man walked into a room.

He was a tactile guy with everyone, but whenever Steve was around, it was always Steve that Eddie was touching. Every time Dustin looked at the two of them, Eddie had a hand somewhere on Steve - slung around his shoulders, resting on one of his arms, brushing against one of his legs to get his attention.

Steve didn't seem to mind at all. He leaned into the physical contact, touching Eddie back almost as often as he was touched. They smiled at each other all the time. They got each other drinks and snacks and just in general acted like a goddamn couple. How had Dustin missed this?

He was gonna need to accelerate his timeline. These idiots needed to get together ASAP.

Read the rest of the fic on AO3.

[minminyoonjii]

Hello :) my birthday is on Friday and I had been looking for Ot8 x Reader birthday fics but people just don't write em and it's so upsetting 😭😭😭

I was wondering if you could do a story where the boys throw the reader a big birthday party but by the end of it, the party is long forgotten and it just turns into one big horny mess- also I wanna say I really like your work and I've sent in a few requests, I wanted to know if I could be 🦝anon if it's not already taken

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

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💙Series Masterlist

🕯Summary: Birthdays are always a special day. Some celebrate with a wholesome heart, they celebrate with their wholesome head. Not the brain kind.

💛AN

Sorry for the belated birthday gift 🦝anon. I finished your request before the series and I thought a good ending piece. I hope you love it💛💛

🌹CW

Birthday Sex|Worship Kink|Edging|Masturbation|Frottage|Grinding|Multiple Orgasms|Voyeurism|Degrading Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Rough Sex|Dom! OT8|Photoshoot|Fishnet Ripping|Possessive|Panty Sniffer|Pussy Slapping|Squirting|Pussy Gape|Pervy! Reader|Instructions|Creampie|Hand Job|Messy Blow Job|Face Fucking|Cock Gagging|Puppy Kink|Throat Bulge|Cunnilingus|Overstimulation|Oral Fixation|Fingering|Daddy Kink|Omorashi|Ghost Face! Lee Minho|Edging|Breeding Kink|69|Cum Eating|Free Use|Teasing|Cum Dump|Very Sensitive Pussy|Sub Space|Deep Penetration|Vibrator|Double Penetration|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 4.9K

"You look stunning in that, darling," Jisung whistled, eyeing you up and down. You gulped, averting eye contact, "I don't know, it's a bit too short isn't it?" You mumbled, tugging down the hem of your skirt. Jisung smiled, "Isn't that the point, baby? You wore this for a reason didn't you?" he said, gesturing you over. You sulked, "I just wanted to look cute," you said, wrapping your arms around your waist. Jisung chuckled, "And you are. Come here," he said, pulling you onto his lap. "Such an adorable little girl. Think you're all grown up, huh?" Jisung whispered, patting your hair. 

You frowned, "Shut up," you grumbled, hiding your face in your hands. Jisung chuckled, "Aww, why should I hm? Pretty little birthday girl like you should get pampered and worshipped, hm?" he said, kissing the back of your neck. You rolled your eyes, "Oh and how are you going to do that?" you asked, hiding your smile. "With a bit of help of course," Jisung said, nosing below your jaw. A shiver ran down your spine, "Ji," you sighed, pressing your thighs together. 

He laughed, kissing your cheek, "Don't get too excited, baby. We still need to attend your birthday party," Jisung said, lifting you off his lap. You jutted your bottom lip, "This is cruel," you grumbled, readjusting your clothes. Jisung smirked, "If you think this is cruel. Just imagine what the boys would do seeing you in that," he said, gesturing to your fit. You bit back a smile, "I don't know what you mean," you said, walking ahead of Jisung. He laughed, "Says the princess who was afraid that it was too short," Jisung teased, wrapping and holding your waist.

You smirked, kissing his cheek, "Guess all I needed was a little reassurance," you said, ruffling his hair. "Anything for the birthday girl," he whispered, licking your ear lobe. You pushed open the door to the living room, panic running through your veins the moment you stepped through it. Some had blank stares, some had their jaws dropped, and some were happy to celebrate. Felix ran up to you, "Sunbeam, you look stunning," he said, kissing your nose. 

You giggled, feeling the tension break, "Thanks, Lix," you whispered, squishing his face. He chuckled, "Come on, let Jinnie take your birthday shots," Felix said, dragging you along. You sat on the spinning stool, "Hyune," you said, pulling Hyunjin in for a hug. "Princess," he chuckled, tightening the hug. You pulled back, "Direct me however you want," you said, not knowing where to put your hands. Hyunjin smiled, "Of course, put your elbows on the table and rest your head on your hands," he instructed, positioning the camera.

You nodded, following each command. Hyunjin smirked, "That's it. You're doing so well," he praised, taking a few more shots. Some with you standing and some with you carefully holding the cake. "Bunny, be careful not to drop it!" Changbin warned, worried about how you tilted it for the shot. You nodded, instantly setting the cake down after Hyunjin said you could. Jeongin rearranged the cake back to its spot, "Hyung, it's cake-cutting time," he said, calling all the members to the table as he stood behind you.

"Here," Felix said, handing you a lighter. That's when you realised there weren't any candles. "What?" you whispered, confused for a second before your eyes lit up. "You didn't," you gasped, looking up at the fond looks looking back at you. "Go ahead," Felix said, gesturing to you to burn the 'Happy Birthday' wafer paper. You felt your cheeks ache from how hard you were smiling, "Wah," you said, watching the paper burn for a single pet name to be written underneath. 

"Really?" you asked, shaking your head at the cheesiness. Bright and bold it wrote 'Little one' in black icing. You looked up at Chan and he only raised his hands in surrender. You giggled at the gesture, "You guys are ridiculous," you said, trying to hide your flustered cheeks. "Ridiculously in love with you," Changbin said, blowing you a kiss. You waved him off, only to be met with loud whines, "Say it back, bunny," he sulked. "I love you too," you mumbled, seeing Jeongin place an actual candle on the cake.

Changbin laughed, "See she loves me," he boasted, crossing his arms to flex his biceps. Jeongin cringed, lighting the candle, "Hyunjinnie hyung, don't forget the video," he said. Hyunjin gave him a thumbs up, "On it," he said, clicking the record. Soon the room was filled with random harmonies as they sang Happy Birthday, with random high notes and runs making you giggle. "Make a wish, kitten," Minho said, rubbing your back. You tilt your head up, surprised that he got behind you, "Okay," you whispered, making your wish.

You blew the candle, and the boys cheered, "Baksu!" Changbin exclaimed, clapping his hands. Seungmin whined, "We're going to get a noise complaint, hyung," he teased, covering his ears. You laughed, shakily holding the knife in your hand. Minho swiftly took it from you, "Let's not make this birthday party a trip to the ER, hm?" he said, cutting the cake. Your jaw dropped, wanting to retort but you knew it was best. Chan chuckled, hugging you from behind, "Happy birthday, baby girl," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"Thank you, Channie," you whispered, leaning back into his hold. Chan cooed, having a good look at your outfit from this angle, "Don't you look absolutely delicious, little one?" he asked, seeing your thighs plush out against the stool. You gulped, straightening your posture, "Is it too much?" you mumbled, tilting your neck back to look up at him. Chan shook his head, staring at your bare neck, "No no, it looks perfect for us to play with," he chuckled, stroking your cheek.

A whine escaped your lips, head clouding from his voice. Chan smirked, easily lifting you off the stool, "Spin the wheel, baby girl. You know what to do," he said, handing you the board. Your names were written on it, this decides the order during birthday parties. You took a deep breath and spun the wheel. The boys eyed the spinning names, wondering who it would land on. Chan chuckled, "Lucky me," he said, seeing his name being picked. You gulped, seeing the pure lust pooling in his eyes.

Chan laid you on the couch, "Let's keep the skirt on but the fishnets have to go," he said, ripping the fabric off your legs. You shivered at the sound, breath picking up from the building arousal. He cooed, stroking your bare thighs, "Pretty little girl," he gruffed, digging his finger into your flesh. You whined, arching your back at the sting, "Chan," you pouted, staring at him between your legs. Chan smirked, pressing his tongue against his bottom lip, "What's wrong? Use your words," he teased, tilting his head back.

You bit back a smile, "Want to be filled, please Daddy," you teased back, knowing very well they would give you anything you wanted for your birthday. Chan's eyes widened for a second before he wrapped his hand around your throat, "Oh yeah? The birthday girl wants her cunt to be fucked loose with cum, huh?" he growled, adding pressure to the sides of your neck. You nodded, legs trembling from the pooling desire, "Please," you pleaded, racking your nails over his hand to show your desperation.

Chan clenched his jaw, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, "Don't whine tomorrow, remember that you begged for this, little one," he groaned, tugging down his pants. A mewl slipped past your mouth, you shifted Chan's thumb towards your lips and he instantly knew what you wanted. Chan panted, cock swelling beneath his boxers, "Fuck, you looked so good when you walked in earlier. Had to hold myself back from stripping you down myself, baby girl," he chuckled, lifting your legs on his hips. 

You moaned, clenching around your drenched panties when an audible squelch could be heard. The room went silent, "Fuck," Jisung whined in disbelief. Chan felt his brain short circuit, "Clench again," he commanded, needing to hear that again. Your lips wobbled in embarrassment but you obeyed nevertheless. You whimpered, clenching your sloppy cunt and there it was again. A. Filthy. Squelch. 

"Chris if you don't hurry up. I swear on my name, I'm going to lose it," Felix growled, palming his clothed bulge. "Not on my watch," Chan grunted, wincing when his throbbing cock slapped against his abdomen. You whined at the sight of his precum-dripping cock, "Need you so fucking bad," you sobbed, sexually frustrated with the teasing. Chan slapped your drenched cunt, instantly sending shocks of pleasure up your body, "Lift your hips," he instructed, tugging your panties off and tossing them to Hyunjin. 

"Just what I needed," Hyunjin slurred, wrapping your panties around his pulsing cock. The warmth of your slick against his aching cock sent his mind hazy. Chan easily slipped two fingers in your needy hole, "So ready and wet for us," he said, adding another finger to his thrusts. You babbled, pleasure coating your body in a familiar comfort. Chan slicked his cock with your arousal and slapped your pretty little hooded clit with his dripping cockhead.

You hiccuped whenever the slit of his cockhead would envelop your clit. Chan leaned down, lining his cock with your fluttering cunt, "Happy fucking birthday, baby girl," he growled, pushing in one quick thrust. You whimpered from the stretch, gripping hard around his cock. Chan's knees buckled, groaning against your ear, "Fuck, fuck!" he gruffed, thrusting his hips as he worked your hole open. You ran your hands up your top, cupping your sensitive chest while Chan pumped his cock in and out of your hole.

"Dirty girl," he purred, picking up his pace to fuck your cunt out relentlessly. Whines echoed within the room, spurring the boys on. You looked up at Chan with half-lidded eyes, drool dripping down the sides of your lips as your tears welled up. "Take my cock, baby girl," he groaned, massaging your inner walls. Your body writhed, orgasm teetering on the edge, "Shi-shit, I'm cum-cumming," you stuttered, arching your back. Chan quickened his thrusts, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves, "Look at me as you cum, little one," he instructed, gripping your jaw.

You sobbed, staring directly into Chan's firm gaze when the coil in your abdomen snapped, "Hah, ah, fuck!" you gasped, biting down your bottom lip. Chan jerked his hips with a few more thrusts, "Take it, fuck," he sighed, pumping your cunt with his orgasm. You shuddered at the warmth, a dopey smile etched on your lips. Chan eased his cock out of your hole, "Good girl," he chuckled, stroking your messy cheek. You shuffled yourself up and spun the wheel again.

"Seungmin," you panted, catching your breath. He chuckled, cupping your cheek to give you a deep kiss. "Mmhm," you moaned, licking Seungmin's bottom lip. He smirked and nipped your tongue, "Naughty girl," he whispered, pulling away. "Yours," you said, raising your arms for him to slip off your top. Seungmin sighed, eyeing your body, the light sheen of sweat made his mind spin, "On your knees," he instructed, tugging down his boxers.

Drool pooled your mouth at the sight, Seungmin's slender and pretty cock curved against his happy trail made your cunt clench. "Use your hands, pretty," he said, patting your head. You wrapped your hands around his cock, stroking it languidly. He brushed your hair back, "Such a pretty birthday girl," he hummed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You kissed the tip of his cock, smearing precum all over your lips. Seungmin groaned, "Lick my cock, pretty. Get it drippy," he said, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

You mewled, "Mhmm," you hummed, licking up from the base. "That's it," Seungmin panted, keeping his eyes on you. Drool dripped down your chin as you flicked your tongue against his frenulum. Precum oozed past his slit, "Fuck, pretty," he grunted, tugging your hair. You moaned, swirling your tongue around his cockhead. A sudden slap to the cheek drew a loud whimper from you. "Impatient are we?" he asked, smirking when his plans worked.

"Huh?" you questioned, looking up with a confused gaze. Seungmin cooed, "Did I say you can suck on my cockhead like that?" he asked, loving the way your eyes widened in realisation. Your lips settled in a pout, stirring Seungmin's internal sadism. "Open wide, pup," he instructed, tapping his cock on your lips. You parted them, huffing warm air onto his cockhead. Seungmin smirked, "Don't forget to breathe," he said, sliding his cock down your throat in a single thrust.

You gagged around his cock, tears dripping down your eyes. Seungmin growled, using your hair as leverage to buck his hips. Your whines grow muffled around his cock. The weight of his shaft made your head spin. "Always love how fucking warm your mouth is, puppy," Seungmin gruffed, eyeing the bulge in your throat made by his girth. You moaned, hollowing your cheeks as much as you could. "Yes, yes, fucking hell," he grunted, fucking your tight mouth.

"Mmh," you keened, swallowing around Seungmin's cockhead. You shuddered, staring up at him with the need to milk every last drop of his orgasm. Seungmin felt his knees waver, shocks enveloping his body, "Fuck, fuck, hah!" he growled, holding your face to the base of his cock as he came. You swallowed as much as you could, thrashing slightly when you couldn't breathe. Seungmin noticed and pulled his hips back, easing his cock out of your mouth. 

You huffed out a puff of warm air, cum coating your tongue and lips. Seungmin chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, "You did so good for me, puppy," he hummed, handing you the wheel to spin again. You gulped, leaning your head against Seungmin's thigh as you watched your breath. You weakly spun the wheel again, "Innie-ah, it's your turn," Seungmin said, reaching for a bottle of water for you to drink. 

Jeongin stroked your hair, "Just lie down, angel," he said, helping you lay back. You pouted, "Innie, kiss," you rasped, making grabby hands towards him. He chuckled, placing a peck on your lips, "Precious," he whispered, pinching your cheek. You whined, glaring through your droopy eyes. Jeongin easily lined up his cock with your cunt, "Are you ready, angel?" he asked, teasing your gaping hole. You nodded, hooking your legs over Jeongin's shoulder, "Please, Jeongin," you pleaded.

"As you wish," he said, sinking his cock to the hilt. You arched your back as the air got knocked out of you. Jeongin gripped the back of your thighs and began thrusting at a frantic pace. You cried at the get-go, ears ringing from the shocks buzzing under your skin. Jeongin didn't hold back, fucking Chan's cum back into your cunt. Babbles spilt past your lips, mind barely comprehending anything else except Jeongin's cock hitting all the right places. 

Changbin groaned, just as surprised about Jeongin's desperate bucks, "Holy shit," he whispered, pressing his thumb between Felix's slit. Felix hissed, "Fuck, they look hot," he grunted, clenching his jaw. Jeongin growled, using his hand to press the subtle bulge under your skin. Your eyes rolled back at the pressure, and a silent scream slacked your jaw. "Fuck you're clenching so fucking tight, angel," he grunted, pounding your sensitive hole. 

You cried out, feeling your orgasm snap without a warning. Jeongin whimpered, buckling against your raised legs as his orgasm broke, "Ah, hah, ah," he gasped, kissing down your ankles to distract himself from the orgasmic clench. You lay there panting, eyes barely focusing on anything. Jeongin mewled, easing his cock from your cunt, "I think she killed my cock," he whined, getting his baring. The boys laughed at his declaration. 

Seungmin held the wheel in front of you, "Go ahead and spin it, pretty," he said, feeding you a bite of cake. You licked your lips and spun the wheel. "Jinnie hyung," he read, looking at Hyunjin. "Let's take a quick break," Hyunjin said, wiping down your body. Seungmin nodded, feeding you a few snacks. You wiggled, pleased by the pampering. Chan wiped your matted hair, "Having fun, little one?" he asked, booping your nose. You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, scrunching your nose.

He chuckled, "Good," he said, kissing your forehead. Hyunjin rubbed your thighs, "All good for more?" he asked, trailing his hand down to your tummy. You nodded, spreading your legs apart. Hyunjin cooed, making himself comfortable between your thighs, "How could they neglect this pretty little clit?" he pouted, blowing softly against it. Your body twitched, heat building under your skin. Hyunjin smirked, darting his tongue to taste. He moaned, latching his plump lips around your pulsing clit.

You bucked your hips, overwhelmed by the sheer eye contact Hyunjin gave, "Hyune," you whined. Hyunjin chuckled, pulling off your clit to lick your urethra. "Fuck!" you cursed, arching your back off the couch. Hyunjin smirked, flicking his tongue against the sensitive hole. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold back the familiar pressure Hyunjin was trying to trigger. "Don't be afraid, love," he purred, pressing his face against your quivering cunt. 

You whimpered, gripping Hyunjin's hair as you pissed, "Sorry, sorry, sorry," you sniffled, trembling. Hyunjin pulled away the moment he noticed you let go. He groaned, shivering when your warm piss landed on his crotch, "Fuck, love. You're perfect," he purred, palming his drenched boxers. You sniffled, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Hyunjin chuckled, letting his cock slap against your throbbing clit, "Messy little girl. Even on your birthday you're making a mess," he degraded, licking his lips.

"Meanie," you mumbled as your lips wobbled. He cooed, pumping his cock with his wrist, "Only to you, lovely," he growled, cumming onto your skirt. You glared at him, crossing your arms. Hyunjin found you adorable, "Aww, my sweet little love is all sulky," he said, pampering your face with kisses. You couldn't help but giggle at the kisses, "Stop," you whined, squirming. He laughed, "Aww but my little girl is mad at me," Hyunjin said, pampering more kisses. 

You melted under the kisses, "Hyune," you sighed, nosing his cheek. He cooed, "Sweet little girl," he chuckled, kissing your forehead. Seungmin brushed your hair back, "Ready for another?" he asked, holding up the wheel. Chan clicked his tongue, "Before that, take a sip, little one," he said, tilting the bottle against your lips. You gulped down, not realising how parched you were. Seungmin chuckled, "Just four more, pretty," he said, seeing you spin the wheel.

"Minho hyung," Seungmin called out, looking over his shoulder. Felix groaned, hair matted against his forehead, "I don't know how long more I can edge myself," he grunted, gripping his thighs. Jisung smirked, "Should we suck off Channie hyung while we wait?" he prompted, grinning at the idea. Felix chuckled, taking Changbin's hand too, "Anything that can keep me from cumming," he said, ready to cause some mischief. 

Chan's eyes widened when they pushed him back down on the couch, "Okay, okay. You hyenas'. Get on your knees," he chuckled, tugging down his boxers. Felix took the lead, licking a stripe up Chan's flaccid cock. Changbin positioned himself beneath, wrapping his lips around Chan's balls, sucking them into his mouth. "Good such boys," Chan rasped, used to being the group's soother. Jisung got on the couch, sinking his head to place kitten licks between Chan's slit.

You eyed the three of them, arousal spurring again from the sight. Minho chuckled, "Don't they look pretty, kitten," he asked, holding special something in his hand. You nodded, "Very," you said, turning your focus back to him. "Close your eyes, 'cause I got myself a little gift just for you," he purred, stroking your cheek. You did as told, heart pounding in your ears from the anticipation. Minho clenched his jaw, wearing the mask, "Open," he instructed, wrapping his hand around your throat.

"Holy shit," you gasped, eyes widening. Minho smirked, "Do I look spooky, kitty?" he cooed, grabbing your waist. You whimpered in response, head spinning just from the sight of the Ghostface mask adorning Minho's body. He tilted his head, "All you need to do, is scream for me," he said, flipping you on your stomach. You yelped, hands instantly clawing the fabric beneath. Minho chuckled, stripping off his belt to tie your wrists together, "You can say your safeword anytime, kitten," he whispered, patting your head. 

You nodded, raising your hips just how he liked it. Minho hummed, hands groping and squeezing your plush ass, "Fucking mine to ruin," he grunted, pumping his cock with his wrist. You gulped, hearing a loud squelch coming from Minho's leaking cockhead. He huffed beneath the mask, riling himself up just to trigger his desperation. Minho clenched his jaw, "Breathe," he warned, sinking his cock past your fold with a single thrust. A broken scream crawled up your throat, drawing attention from all around the room. 

Minho wasted no time ploughing your cunt, his left hand pressed firm on your lower back, "Work for it, kitten. Clench your fucking cunt," he groaned, rolling his hips precisely. Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to focus on the feeling of your ribbed walls clenching around his girthy cock. Minho hissed, laughing maniacally at your cries, "That's it, kitten. Scream louder," he growled, thrusting his cock at a brutal pace. 

Your body quivered, cunt squeezing hard enough that Minho felt his cock get pushed out. "You ain't escaping me, kitty," he chuckled, gripping the sides of your hips as leverage. "Ah, hah, hah! Fuck!" you screamed, arching your back when Minho forced his cock deeper. The tip of his cock pressed snuggled beside your cervix. Minho huffed, gritting his teeth, "Mhm, hah," he sighed, trailing down his hand to pinch your swollen clit.

"Hhgh," you whimpered, sobbing the moment your orgasm broke. Minho hissed, tightening his hold to make you milk his cum, "Take it, kitten. We need to make it stick," he growled, coating your inner walls with his orgasm. Your thighs trembled from the aftershocks, brain foggy from the high intensity buzzing through. Minho tugged off the mask, hair drenched with sweat dripping down his neck, "Fuck, that thing is hot," he gruffed, tossing it on the floor.

Chan's cock stood hard and throbbing, the three brats decided to edge him each time you screamed. Felix placed a kiss on Chan's saliva-coated cockhead, "Is she still coherent?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Minho rubbed your back, "Kitten?" he asked, easing his cock from your hole. You whimpered, lifting your head to plop it on a pillow, "I'm good," you slurred, eyes half-lidded. Hyunjin tapped your lips, "Suck," he instructed, letting you swallow down some fruit juice.

Jeongin held the wheel in front of you, "I'm sure the other hyungs' will be gentle," he said, giving them a side glance. You knew for a fact that's a lie but you spun the wheel anyway. "Bin hyung," Jeongin said, tucking your hair behind your ear. Changbin got up from his knees, cock hard and throbbing. "C'mere bunny, lay on my chest," he said, positioning your cunt in front of his face. You nuzzled his cock, breathing in the familiar musk. Changbin cooed, placing kisses on your inner thighs, "Messy little pussy," he teased, laying a firm smack on your ass. 

You whined, grazing your teeth against the gland of his cockhead as retaliation. Changbin groaned, internally finding you adorable, "Okay, okay," he chuckled, licking the outer folds of your cunt. You moaned, mimicking his licks, "Binnie," you whispered,  placing sloppy kisses around his shaft. He spat on your clit causing your hips to buck, "Our stunning bunny," he sighed, flicking his tongue against your abused clit. A shudder ran through your spine, "Fuck, hah," you keened, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.

Changbin growled and with a flat tongue he lapped your cunt clean. You moaned around his cock, the stretch hurting the edges of your lips the lower your sunk. Changbin closed his eyes, immersing himself in the scent of your pussy smearing on his face. A squeal vibrated his cock when you felt his tongue flex within your canal. Your eyes crossed, pleasure easily building from the around of orgasms they coaxed from your body so far. Changbin furrowed his eyebrows, focusing on bringing you to the edge. 

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in tight, your throat relaxing around his sensitive cockhead. Changbin growled, thrusting his tongue while his fingers rubbed and pinched your clit on the occasion. Moans grew in octaves as you got close to the edge. Changbin's thighs quivered, feeling the same pleasure. "Cum for Binnie, bun," he keened, trying his hardest not to buck his cock down your throat. Snot and drool coated Changbin's pelvis, you squeezed your eyes tight, ears buzzing from the appending high.

A muffled curse could be heard when you gushed all over Changbin's face, squirting both the remains of your orgasm and Minho's out of your canal. Changbin growled, marking the flesh of your ass when the clear warmth coated his skin, "Yeah, hah, hah," he panted, cumming down your throat. You choked around his shaft, nose burning when cum went up. Minho helped you pull off, "Precious little kitten is too tired to lift herself," he chuckled, making you blow your nose. 

Jisung lifted you, "Lix and I came to an agreement to use you together, princess," he said, nuzzling your cheek. You laid pliant, eyes dazed and glossy. Felix cooed, stroking your cheek, "Don't worry your little brain, sunbeam. We'll take good care of you," he chuckled, pressing down his thumb on your bottom lip. You instinctively slacked your jaw. Felix smirked, spitting directly on your tongue. You gave a dopey smile, swallowing. Jisung groaned, losing his mind at how cute and sinful you look, "I can die tomorrow," he whispered, tossing his head back.

Felix chuckled, wrapping his hands around your waist, "Thanks to all the boyfriends for loosening your tight cunt, sunbeam. Melt into my chest, you don't have to do a thing," he purred, running his fingers through your hair. Jisung aligned Felix's cock with your hole, "It just gets sucked in," he whispered in awe. Felix groaned, the warmth of your cunt hugging his cock after waiting till the end almost made him bust, "Sung, if you don't hurry," he grunted, face evident with impatience.

Jisung chuckled, pressing his cock beside Felix's, "I know, princess. I know," he cooed, kissing away your stray tears. You sniffled, body aching from the sheer feeling of being stuffed. Felix kissed your cheek, his hands trembling from the tightness, "Happy Birthday, sunbeam," he growled, rocking his hips upwards. Jisung pressed his lips with yours, "Hmm, Happy Birthday," he whispered, licking into your mouth as he rutted his cock with deep thorough thrusts.

Felix marked down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. Jisung latched his lips around your neglected nipple, he moaned and sucked giving them the attention they deserved. You whined, thrashing your head weakly. Felix gruffed, sinking his teeth into your sweet spot when his hips stuttered. Jisung noticed and quickened his pace, helping to bring all three of you to an orgasm. Felix whimpered, toes curling from the pleasure, "Fuck me," he grunted, painting your cunt with cum. 

Jisung bit down on his bottom lip, "Shit, shit, hah," he moaned, bucking a few more times before adding to the mess. Your lips drew into a pout, orgasm aching to burst. Jeongin stood next to Jisung, "I've got you, Angel," he said, pressing a bullet vibrator to your clit. You rasped out a whine, pussy squeezing around the two cock buried within. Jisung felt his knees buckle from the grip, "Fuck, holy fuck, fuck," he babbled, head spinning.

Felix sobbed, nosing your neck to ground himself from a dry orgasm. Your body shook as the final orgasm got drawn out of you, "Hah, hhgh," you sobbed, forcing their cocks out. Jisung sank to his knees, collecting himself. Felix laid back, limp from moving. Minho lifted you, rubbing your back when you started wailing, "Good girl. You're our good girl, hm?" he cooed, reassuring you. Changbin prepared your bath, leaving a few bath toys in it, "Hi, pretty bunny," he whispered, easing your sore body into the warm water.

You sniffled, reaching out to grab a familiar rubber ducky. Chan chuckled, sitting on the side to wash your hair, "Looks like you remember daddy's ducky, yeah?" he asked, rubbing the shampoo on your hair. You nodded, hugging it close, "Ducky," you whispered under your breath. Chan cooed, "Hold my shoulder, little one," he instructed, coaxing you to piss while he cleaned your puffy cunt. You whined at the sting, thighs sore with blooming hand marks. 

Chan hummed, rinsing off the soap suds, "Daddy's got you," he whispered, drying you up and holding you close. You nuzzled his chest, "Sleep?" you asked, looking up. He nodded, "Yes baby, sleep," he said, rubbing ointment on your bruises. You melt into his touches, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Chan carried you down, "Look, baby," he whispered, showing you the scattered pillows and blankets over a row of mattresses. You smiled, hooking your chin over Chan's shoulder. Coos and chuckles, surrounded your body, "Did you enjoy today, bunny?" Changbin asked, plugging in a hairdryer. You nodded, "Best Birthday Ever," you slurred, drifting off the warmth of the hairdryer.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Riled Up (Tenth Doctor)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged (im begging)

Summary: The Doctor grows tired of you trying to work him up.

CW: smut, frottage, closet sex (lmao), the Doctor is jealous, biting, tame dirty talk (imo), thigh riding, gender neutral reader

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Can I ask,” the Doctor says, pulling you down a hallway and into a tight closet. “What- are you doing?” 

He sounds angry. The expression on his face is hard. Eyes wide, mouth pursed into a thin line. You’re almost sure you can see a vein pulsing in his forehead. In his defence, you had been flirting with the ambassador for Pilch. In your defence, however, you’d not been flirting for reasons other than diplomatic strategy. But the Doctor clearly did not like it either way. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied indignantly, knowing exactly what you were doing. It had been somewhat of a game for you the last little while. How far can you push him before he snaps? You knew he wanted you, and he knew that you wanted him. You weren’t entirely sure what it was that was holding him back, but you were determined to break that barrier down brick by brick. It just so happened that the one time you weren’t actively trying to turn him on and get him to shag you in the bushes was the one time it apparently seemed to work.

“Bollocks,” he growled, pushing you up against the closet wall. The Doctor crowded into your space, nosing at your jaw and forcing you to raise your chin in submission. You sucked in a breath, hands reaching for his hips as he forced your knees apart and slotted his own between them. “You’re teasing me. You’ve been taunting me for weeks. Is this what you want?” 

The Doctor bit at your jaw, the sharpness of his teeth making you whimper. His hands squeezed at your hips and he rubbed his knee against you. 

“O-oh,” you whimpered before biting your lip to keep the sounds in. 

The Doctor tutted, pulling you into a kiss to make you release your lip as he rubbed your hips over his leg, rolling you against him so that the friction jolted electric pleasure up your spine.

“Want- want to hear you,” he said heavily, eyes dark with lust. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t answer my question, love.” 

Your hips begin to move of their own accord, working with the push and pull of his warm hands to bring you closer to the edge. Oh, this was not how you were expecting today to go. Not that you were complaining, of course. 

“I- It wasn’t my intention,” you panted, wrapping your arms around him tighter and moaning into his ear. He shivered as the sounds reverberated through his system. “But I can’t say I haven’t been trying to wind y-ngh-you up lately.” You nipped his earlobe to punctuate the point. 

The Doctor rubs his leg up against you harshly, delighting in the moans that fall from your pretty mouth.  

“Mm, see- I think you’re a liar,” he chuckles, gripping particularly tight at your hip. “You want this. You want me to fuck you, don’t you? The Doctor, huh? Bit of an age gap, but I’ll let it slide.” 

One of his hands releases your hip to palm at himself in his trousers. He groans, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Oh-oh- yes, maybe I should do this more often, hm? Maybe,” he trails off, licking a long stripe up the column of your throat. “Maybe I should split you open on my cock? Watch you tire yourself out. I’d like that. Would you like that? Oh, look at that blush. You would, wouldn’t you? You want to split yourself open on the Doctor’s cock.” 

He lets out a breathy laugh as you grind against him harder, getting so close now. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, bouncing his leg up to give you the extra stimulation. “Cum for me- God, please- cum for me.” 

It hits you all at once, the pleasure rippling from your core and through your body. You can feel your muscles spasming as you continue to rut against him, your arms grow tired and heavy and the Doctor laughs as he has to hold you up while your legs twitch with pleasure. 

“That’s it, love- just like that- oh, so good for me, aren’t you? Shh, that’s it. You’re alright, love.” 

The Doctor caresses your hair, holding you up and in his embrace. You’re panting into his shoulder, nerves alight and scorched with pleasure. 

“I don’t think the Ambassador is going to be happy that you took his newest toy,” you panted with a giggle. The Doctor grins that oh-so-charming smile of his. 

“I don’t think I care. Do you?” 

Your exhausted grin splits wider.

“Not really,” you reply. 

“Good.”

[fairyysoup]

it will come back

part two

a.k.a. sever the blight (eddie's version)

pairing(s): werewolf!eddie munson x fem!milkmaid!reader

summary: As May Day approaches, you find yourself running into Eddie, and succumbing to his charms, more and more.

cw: smut, heavy petting, fingering, frottage, denied orgasm, public sex, getting caught, alcohol consumption (both eddie and reader), a bit of humiliation, teasing, tons of flirting, eddie munson's Big Meaty Claws, jealousy (by reader), eddie being a flirtatious shit all around, slight enemies to lovers beat here, some kind of historical fantasy period, fairytale au, descriptions of scars, mentions of abuse, reader is a servant to an abusive master

a/n: Happy May! I wrote this in a complete stupor and woke up and it was almost 8.0k words, so there will be a part three. I also wanted to get this done yesterday, but that's not how the cookie crumbles. Alas.

The lyrics that Eddie sings in this are from a traditional English folk song, commonly called "As I Walked Through the Meadow." There are variations on the lyrics, but this is the version I used here.

MY WORKS ARE ALL 18+ MINORS DNI

The man from the creek is being thrown out of the tavern in the center of town.

You know because you’ve been watching since he went inside. Except, if anyone were to ask, you’d say you’re simply watching the ripples on the mud puddles on the dirt road in front of the building. They’re fascinating, you’d insist. They say you can see your future in them.

You’d noticed him going in as you were stepping out of the haberdashers. You knew it was him from the wine red of his blouse– it’s a rich color, like you’ve never seen on a garment worn by anyone in town, and certainly not by someone claiming to come from the woods. The last time you saw him, nearly a month ago now, you forgot to ask him where he got something so richly woven and colored, in such seemingly good repair. You contented yourself with a single lie: you didn’t want to know. 

You also figured that you would likely never see him again. That this so-called Eddie Munson was probably better off disappearing back into the woods and staying there. You’d never seen him in town before, and you certainly didn’t expect to see him there any time soon. He doesn’t exactly fit in with the rest of the townsfolk; people who work the land, who own it, who sow it. His rich red wine doesn’t fit into the bland suedes and dull grays of your neighbors. 

No– no, with his wild, curly hair and bright, rosy cheeks, he definitely doesn’t look like anyone who belongs in Havensfield. He belongs in a storybook. He belongs in a fairytale you tell to little children, to send them to sleep with something larger than life in their minds. Just like you haven’t been able to sleep a wink without thinking about him and his troublesome smile and sparkling eyes first. 

It’s as if he has you under some sort of spell, unable to move on but remaining steadfastly in place with your mind only revolving around him. You figured it was probably best to spend the coin he gave you and get it out of your system, so maybe you can get rid of the one physical thing that reminded you of his existence.

But here he is, in the flesh and very alive, and being tossed into the mud puddle you had been gazing into, spraying droplets of dirty water off in every direction. A cacophony of laughter rings out from the open door of the tavern– a barkeep angrily wipes his hands on his apron, snarls something at Eddie, and disappears back into the building, the door slamming shut behind him.

The town has erected a maypole in the square for the May Day celebration in just a few days. The marketplace is normally hectic during the festival. Shopkeepers will set up their stalls, the place will be decorated with garlands of flowers, and for days at a stretch one can hardly get their errands done for the amount of chaos going on in the place. That’s why you did your shopping today, rather than waiting for the festivities to begin.

You didn’t expect this.

You haven’t moved from your spot in front of the haberdasher’s. You don’t know if you should– you look this way and that, wondering if anyone is going to approach him, or if everyone else instinctively gives him a wide berth. The people on the street continue about their business like they haven’t seen him, like he isn’t there. You wonder if it’s some unseen force of nature that keeps them away. Does some magic spell exist to make him undetectable to anyone but you? Or are you just the only one stupid enough to get close?

He just sort of lays there in the mud, staring up at the sky. You assume he’s drunk. Why else would he have been thrown out of the tavern? Drinking them dry, getting unruly, starting fights… Yes, you should go on about your business. 

Your hand fists in your skirt, the color of barleycorn. Such a drab color when compared to his deep red, like the flow of blood from a wound. Just as you had feared, it draws you in like a moth to a flame. You lift your skirts and step carefully across the muddy town square, until your feet toe the edge of the puddle he lays in. 

“Do you… need help?” you ask when you peer down at him. From this angle, his eyelashes fan across his cheekbones in long arches, fluttering like fairy wings. 

“My Lovely Lady of the Creek!” He croons wistfully up at you when you pass into his field of vision. “We must stop meeting this way.” 

“Which way is that?”

“With me on my back in a bunch of water.” He smiles at you treacherously, in that way he does. Like he’s privy to a joke that you’re completely unaware of.

“Well, are you just going to lay there like a dead man in the road? Or would you like help?” Your hands are on your hips, the small basket for your purchases wiggling precariously on your wrist. 

“You really should be more discerning about who you offer to help,” he lectures as he heaves himself up to sit. Muddy water sloshes up towards your shoes, and you scamper back before they can get wet. “Lest I begin to get the wrong impression.” 

“I don’t recall ever offering you help before,” you point out. 

“Right,” Eddie says after a moment, his eyes sweeping along the road. He looks unsure, as if he doesn’t know what to ask for, if he wants anything at all. “You… could help me over to the well?” 

Your eyes follow his to the well in the center of the square. You shrug, and then brandish your hand at him. 

Eddie looks at it thoughtfully for a moment before placing his hand into yours. His hand engulfs yours in warmth, his long fingers stretching up and around your wrist. A flush bursts beneath your skin from where his touch hits, spreading up your arm and into your chest.

You’re going to catch fire, you’re sure of it.

Instead, you just help him to his feet, trying not to slip in the mud, yourself. Eddie staggers, sways back towards the porch of the tavern. You lunge forward to catch him before he can fall over again, and you snatch him around the waist without much thought. His arm plops down onto your shoulder, and your basket bats against his hip, the contents shifting inside.

You’re so close now. He smells like pine and whiskey, and his body is warm. So warm that you’re surprised he isn’t sick in bed. 

“How much did you drink?” you ask him, your voice choked as you heave him towards the well. You don’t want to think about his body pressed against yours, his arm hot around your shoulders. He’s looking down at you with an impassioned gaze that you don’t want to match. You fear that if you look up into his face, you will. 

“No more than usual,” he murmurs. His hand reaches out and grabs the stone ring of the well once you get him to it. He kneels on the step of it, starting to look a little green in the face. 

“You smell like the tavern floor,” you tell him frankly, raising your hand to push his hair away from his face. 

“Well, I was just laying in a bunch of piss and shit, so.” Eddie raises his head and gazes up at you, wide-eyed, when you press your hand to his forehead. 

“And you’re much too hot,” you assess, watching his eyes flutter at your appraisal. “Don’t you dare get sick in the well. I have to drink out of that.”

“I need water,” he grumbles, and pulls away from your hand. He tries to stand, and fails.

“Stay,” you tell him firmly, planting a hand on his shoulder. Eddie pouts, watching as you place your basket beside him and step up to the well to fetch him the bucket yourself. 

Like a child who’s just been given a present, Eddie’s eyes fall to your basket. “What’s this?”

“My shopping,” you grunt with the effort of cranking the wheel to lift the bucket from the well. 

“Ooh– stockings?” 

You turn to glance at him, and see that he’s lifted the cloth from the basket to peek at the contents inside. He’s pinching your new stockings between his two fingers, pulling them out with a gleeful expression on his face.

You could kill him. “Put those back,” you hiss, letting go of the handle of the wheel. The crank spins backward, and down in the well, the bucket hits the water again with a loud, wet splash.

“Silk stockings, no less,” Eddie continues, ducking away from your swiping hand as he begins running the smooth hosiery over his knuckles. He seems to have gotten his second wind– no longer staggering, nor looking green in the face, he scampers around the well while you chase him. “Now how could a milkmaid afford such finery? It couldn’t be… no, I shant say–” 

“Give it to me now,” you snarl at him, rounding the well after him. You hadn’t wanted him to see them– hadn’t wanted anyone to see them. It’s not something that you could have gotten yourself, on your own pay. The Master or Mistress would assume that you’d stolen the money, and punish you for it. Obviously, any stranger seeing them would be improper.

And Eddie… Well, he knows exactly how you got your hands on them.

“Could it be… a silver coin?” He giggles like an impish little sprite, his feet working faster than his mind. “Given to you by a handsome, charming, mysterious stranger?” 

Eddie turns to look at you, holding the silken fabric up to his cheek to feel its softness. The sight of the gesture, him pressing his cheek against your undergarment, makes you see red. 

“You little demon–” You lunge for him, but he jerks away, barrel rolling across the opening of the well somehow without managing to fall in. He lands on the other side with a noisy plop, laughing hysterically, and you continue rounding the well to get to him. “Your hair is unsightly and you smell like dirt and you’re as vain as you are vexing and I would rather try to climb the maypole than call you charming!” 

“Well, you’re correct on most accounts,” he tells you, still trying to slow his laughter. Eddie lifts the cloth on your basket, still containing a bread roll and a new wooden comb, and begins carefully folding the silk stockings into a neat bundle. He tucks them back into the basket primly, while continuing, “But I would love to see you try to climb a maypole. Mine has been known to be good for such uses–”

“You’re despicable.” You snatch the basket away from him and step away from the well, turning your back to him without a goodbye. 

“Maybe so,” Eddie replies from behind you. “But you’re still curious, aren’t you?”

You stop. You shouldn’t, but you do, and you know it’s a mistake the minute you turn and see him already standing, not swaying in the slightest, and beginning to crank the wheel of the well to fetch his own water. 

With a scowl, you watch his arm work the wheel until the bucket rears up over the lip of the well, and he lifts it onto the edge. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, like he expected you to have walked away, and he smirks. “Ohhhh, she’s curious. You know what they say about curiosity.” 

Your skin prickles as you’re uncomfortably reminded of your last meeting with Eddie. “You’re much too fond of your idioms.”

“They’re idioms for a reason,” he replies frankly. With the water bucket steady on the edge of the well, he pinchest the front of his blouse and begins untucking the tails from his trousers. 

“What are you doing?” you snap, appalled, as he lifts the hem of his blouse to expose his belly.

He pauses, looking at you dubiously. “I have to wash my shirt.”

You bluster, “In front of the whole town?”

“Who’s looking?”

Who, indeed? You finally think to take in your surroundings, and you notice that the town square has cleared since Eddie was thrown out of the tavern. Aside from the occasional passerby, no one is lingering, and certainly no one is watching Eddie as he peels the muddy fabric from his skin. 

“You’re the only person in this town who deigns to speak to me. I thank you for that,” Eddie says, not unkindly. “But you should know that it makes you a rose among thorns. That isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

“How is that not a good thing?” you ask, feeling his eyes rake over you just before he pulls his shirt over his head. You see a flash of pale skin, and avert your eyes so swiftly it nearly makes you dizzy.

“Roses tend to be picked,” he tells you simply, as if it’s obvious. “Careful who you show your colors to.”

Your face heats against your will, while your eyes remain locked on the building across the way and not on him. At least, not until your curiosity wins out, and you steal a glance at him. 

Eddie dunks his dirty blouse in the bucket, splashing water down onto the stone step at the base of the well. The muscles of his arms flex with the work, and his hair spills over pale shoulders, rosy at the collarbones. He has pictures drawn on his skin with black ink– mythical creatures you learned about as a child, which denote power and magic. Surrounding the images on his skin are scars, old enough that they’ve gone pale, but their raised appearance indicates that he’s seen his fair share of danger. Hair trails down his chest and to  the curve of his stomach, then disappears beneath the line of his trousers. Your eyes trace the trail of it, lingering on his waistband as you wonder how far down it goes. 

He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up at you. You immediately rip your eyes away, but it’s too late. He’s already seen you looking– seen you staring. 

Eddie grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “If it pleases you to look, then look.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t looking,” you say, with more than a hint of pride, turning your nose up a bit for good measure. 

“Of course,” Eddie muses, a wicked smirk still on his face. “And neither was I.” 

He meets your eye with a heated gaze that makes goosebumps break out across your skin. His eyes are two black coals, burning at you from just a few feet away. They slowly move up and down your body, until he sets his jaw and turns back to the bucket. He lifts the red blouse from the water and wrings it out, casting droplets of water down his forearms.

You watch them travel along his pale skin, your eyes tracing the blue veins and sinewy muscles of his arms. And that’s when you notice it– the cloth tied around his wrist.

It’s pale pink. It has a slight brocade pattern to the weave. It’s one that your Mistress had no use of, and when she decided she didn’t want the cloth for anything, you took and dyed it yourself with rose petals, and turned it into a blanket for your bed.

It’s the same cloth that you tied to the injured leg of the wolf in your dream, all those weeks ago. But it wasn’t a dream, or it couldn’t have been– the end of that very same pink blanket is still frayed from the tear of the fabric.

“Where did you get that?” you ask him sharply, marching forward. He startles, drawing back just a bit, his eyes glancing you up and down in alarm.

“Get what?” he says coolly, though his manner doesn’t reflect his tone. He’s backing away from you, holding up his hands like you mean to attack.

“This.” Far too bold for your own good, you snatch his wrist in your hand. Eddie gazes down his nose at you as you yank his wrist up near your face, twisting until the pink brocade glints in the overcast light of late April. “Where did you get this cloth?” 

“In the woods,” he says simply. 

“This is from my bed,” you hiss at him, your eyes narrowing as your hand tightens on his arm. Beneath his overheated skin, his pulse pounds against your fingers. You feel it like the beating of a thousand drums. “I don’t believe you. Where did you get it?” 

“I told you,” Eddie repeats slowly. “I found it hanging from a tree. Thought it was pretty, so I kept it.” His face betrays no emotion now, almost strategically so. Where alarm once was, there is nothing. No hint of hesitance, or mischief, or cunning. Just a blank slate that you have no way of reading. 

Your eyes flick between his face and his arm, trying to connect the dots. That’s when you notice the mark as well– among the otherwise pale, older scars that riddle his torso and arms is a long, jagged gash on his bicep. It arcs across his skin and appears to have been from a deep wound. It’s raised over and scarred, but still bright in color. New.

You’re wondering if your mind is playing tricks on you. It’s improbable that the scar on his arm is the one you patched on the wolf a month ago. You refuse to believe such things; you don’t believe in wolf-men, in fairytales, in silly superstitions.

You release his arm. You still don’t believe him– not when he so quickly went from being startled, to suddenly showing no emotion at all. You don’t trust him in the slightest. It seems to you like he’s hiding something, but you don’t know what. You don’t believe he’s anything other than a man. You can’t honestly say that you believe he’s evil, or that he means you harm, but you still wouldn’t lay your life down to fend for his honor.

And that cloth. You would bet your life that the fabric wrapped around his wrist came from your bed, dyed by your own hand, tied around the wounded leg of a wolf on the last full moon. But you can’t dispute that what he says is true. So you step back, and you fix him with a steely-eyed gaze that you know would make even the roughest of men shake in their boots.

“Good day, Mr. Munson,” you say, and he looks surprised that you even remembered his name. “I hope that I never see you again.”

“Making a wish like that is unwise,” he replies mildly, turning back to the bucket that he has perched on the rim of the well. “Unless you have a coin to toss in the well for it. Silver, maybe?” 

Your cheeks burn hot, and you turn away from him. He infuriates you so much. You can’t recall a time when a man affected you so badly. 

“Right. Because you spent it,” he observes, taking your silence as a quiet relent. “I’ll sleep well knowing that my coin was spent on a pair of beautiful stockings. Excellent craftsmanship, by the way. The weave is immaculate. Feels like spun gold.”

“Go to Hell,” you mutter, finally turning away from him, for good this time. 

“As long as I know you’ll think of me when you wear them,” he tells you as you walk away, “I’ll die a happy man.”

You pause. For a moment, you think of turning back to him, telling him to shove that exact thought down his stupidly pretty gullet. But you don’t. Thankfully, you have the reserve and the self respect to set your shoulders and leave him there, rinsing his soiled blouse there on the edge of the well.

You still didn’t ask him how he got a blouse so fine. You doubt that he would tell you the truth even if you did. All you know is that he stays with you, haunting you, rolling through your mind the way he rolled across the mouth of the well, until your hand lands on the gate to your Master’s property.

You can’t afford to have him occupying your thoughts. You can’t afford to be so distracted– you don’t even want to think about what may happen if the Master learns that you’re on your way to being smitten with someone. Someone young and beautiful and, from what you can tell, not running a farm with indentured servants on it.

And when exactly did you go from wanting him to disappear into the woods, to being smitten with him?

On May Eve, you get just enough of your chores done for the Mistress to not find any excuse for you not to attend the festivities. With your hands tight on a woven basket, you set off with a group of young milkmaids from down the lane, bearing torches, to collect flowers from the meadows and woods. 

Bringing in the May is one of your favorite customs, mostly because it’s practiced by the young people of the town. You don’t have to worry about being watched by the town elders. There’s an air of being chosen by someone; the more popular girls in town get flowers laid on their doorsteps in abundance. You’ve never been left flowers, but each year you hold out hope that someone, anyone, will leave them for you. A gesture– you’re wanted. 

There’s music in the air. Groups of young men and women laugh and dance, and the meadows are dotted with the little blooms of fire at the ends of torches as flowers are gathered. You’ve already indulged in a certain amount of floral spring wine and honey cakes, lulling you into a sweetly tipsy, giggly mood. There’s magic in the air– you can taste it in the humidity, the moonshine, the salt of sweat and earth.

“There aren’t enough flowers in the meadow this year,” one of the girls in your group complains, tromping through the high grass. 

“This isn’t the only meadow in Havensfield, Victoria,” says another. 

“I’ve seen more growing by the trees,” you offer, holding out your basket for one girl to toss a few measly primrose blooms in.

The other girls stop. You look around in the low torchlight at the appalled expressions on their faces. 

“You can’t just… go into the woods,” the one named Victoria objects. “There’s… there’s fairies. And wolf-men.” 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes while the other girls balk. “You can’t honestly tell me that you believe those old wive’s tales. You know the elders only tell those stories to keep us from going into the woods to fuck.” 

A few snickers rise up with the smoke from the torch. “It’s true, I saw Katherine Plack sneaking through the woods with Scotty Raker two nights ago,” says a short girl beside Victoria, nodding sagely.

“And what were you doing in the woods, Hyacinth?” the girl holding the torch says, slugging Hyacinth on the shoulder. 

The girls dissolve into laughter, while you suck on your lower lip and gaze toward the trees. It can’t be that dangerous, if Eddie claims to come from in there… somewhere. You imagine a cozy little cottage in the woods with a well beside it, tucked away, hidden from town. You imagine him chopping the wood to make it, himself. You imagine his lean frame and strong hands holding an ax, the drawings on his skin highlighted in the filtered sun through the trees as he swings the blade–

“I’m going to go see,” you announce abruptly, your voice nearly cracking. You’re nodding to yourself, looking like an idiot while you fumble to pick the basket up and set it on your hip. “Yep. That’s what I'm going to do. You all can stay here if you want.” 

“But, there’s no light,” Victoria insists, pulling her hair back away from her face with a condescending expression.

“Moon’s almost full, I can see just fine,” you snap back. Honestly, what does it matter to her if you go into the woods? “I’ll be back.”

Hyacinth calls something about “girding your loins” after you, but you’re too far away to really pay it any mind. The grass grows taller by the trees, and you hop over the creek into a wide bed of bright yellow marigolds. They wiggle in the slight spring breeze, lit with just enough moonshine for their color to show even in the dark.

“Beat that, Victoria,” you mumble as you set the basket on the ground. Methodically, you begin picking them, choosing the biggest blooms, the ones with the most immaculate petals. You’ll decorate your small cabin with them, and fashion garlands for the town square with the rest. 

As you wander over to another bed to collect some more blooms, you hear singing, following the tune being played by the pan flute across the meadow. It’s an old folk song that most of the people in town would know, and you hum along mindlessly as you pick the flowers at your knees. 

“As I was a-walking to take the fresh air, The flowers all blooming and gay, I heard a young damsel so sweetly a-singing, Her cheeks like the flowers in May.” 

It’s a young man’s voice, coming from somewhere in the trees, low and rich, and quiet enough that you don’t think it’s meant to be heard by anyone else across the meadow. Tipsy, you smile to yourself, not thinking to look for the source of the voice, but just appreciating the sound as it travels on the breeze.

“Said I, ‘Pretty maiden, and how came you here, In the meadows this morning, so soon?’ The maid she replied, ‘Why, to gather some May, For the trees they are all in full bloom.’”

As your fingers stroke along soft flower petals, humming along under your breath, you glance over your shoulder towards the meadow, where flaming torches dance like woodland spirits in the night. Laughter follows the music and the raucous cheering of the other groups of May-goers, dancing and collecting their own greenery and flowers.

The rich, velvety voice filters through the trees, ever quieter, but even closer than before. You look up just in time to see the source of the voice move just beyond the treeline, and then he appears, leaning against the trunk of a great pine, close enough that you can see the deep wine red of his blouse, and the wicked smirk on his lips.

“I said, ‘Pretty maiden, shall I go with you Through the meadows to gather some May?’ ‘Oh no, sir,’ she said, ‘I would rather refuse, For I fear you would lead me astray.’”

You could swear that Eddie’s eyes glow nearly red at you in the moonlight, his teeth sharper than you’ve ever seen them as he grins at you. The lace at his collar is untied, disheveled, falling open to reveal one of the inked pictures on his skin and his dark chest hair. 

“Climb any maypoles today, princess?” he asks you after a moment of your staring at him, like you’ve seen a ghost.

The question sets your skin aflame. You sit back on your heels, giving him a caustic expression, despite the way your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s the eve of May, your lurid mind thinks, tracing his outline among the trees. Anything could happen. 

“I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again, Mr. Munson,” you retort, imagining that he won’t be affected by your words in the slightest.

He isn’t. “Ah-ah, you said you hoped that you wouldn’t. But you didn’t toss a coin in the well, therefore, your wish was never going to be granted. Rules of nature, sweetheart.” He wags a finger at you. “And enough with that ‘Mr. Munson’ business. You remember my name, don’t you?” 

“Eddie,” you say quietly, not sure why you feel so shy when you do. Probably because, up until now, you’ve been firm in your false belief that you’d never give him the time of day. It seems it all depends on whether or not you’ve seen him shirtless, first.

“Good girl. I knew you were paying attention.” Eddie smirks at you then, sowing the seeds of your detriment right there. He stands poised, and then bows low as he says, “So, pretty maiden, shall I go with you through the meadows to gather some May?”

You consider quoting the song right back to him, but you figure that it’s probably what he expects you to do. So instead, you sigh and shrug your shoulder at him. “As long as you promise not to crush them in your big meaty hands.” 

Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock, an impressed smile curling his mouth up at the corners. He barks a laugh. “That’s not how the song goes.” 

“Well, the song ends with them kissing and then getting married in the morning,” you point out, with a roll of your eyes. “So, forgive me for not adhering to the lyrics.”

“Also, my hands are not meaty.” He smirks at you ruefully, his face half bathed in moonlight. He leans towards you, “I’ll tell you what is, though–”

“If you’re about to mention your maypole again, I’m leaving,” you snap, glaring at him in the dark. He snickers, but says nothing, instead preferring to start gathering marigolds. “Just how did you manage to find me again, anyways? There are hundreds of people wandering the meadows tonight. How is it that you keep managing to run into me and no one else?”

“Oh, I can sniff you out in a heartbeat, princess. It’s one of my many talents.” The flowers are dwarfed by his hands– his long fingers pinch the stems delicately, offset by the size of the silver rings he wears on them. You admire them, watching them glint in the moonlight, the tendons in his wrist flexing and his skin pulling tight over veins and knuckles. The heavy metal clicks as he works. You’re about to comment on them, when you watch what said fingers are doing with the flowers.

He takes one, and loops the stem around another, creating a loose knot that lets the tails sit alongside each other. He repeats the process slowly, building a chain of bright marigold blooms, while he hums idly and shoots you a heavy look from beneath his lashes. “Ah. So you’re not afraid to look, now. That’s good to know.” 

You tear your eyes away. The tips of your ears burn with embarrassment at having been caught staring, yet again. “Have you any shame?” 

“Not a hair of it.” 

Eddie holds up a finished crown of flowers, grinning at you. He places the circlet of blooms on your head, and as he draws back, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“And I crowned her my Queen of sweet May,” he sings at you, more of a coo than truly carrying a tune. “The most beautiful one in all the land, of course.”

“From princess to queen,” you muse, trying not to show how quickly your heart is melting. “I’m sure you must think that endears you to me.”

“I’d like to think so,” Eddie admits, leaning ever closer to you. You can see the reflection of the moon in his eyes, glinting vaguely red– you can smell honeyed wine on his breath. His voice drops even lower in register, until it’s just barely above a whisper. “I hope so. Tell me I’m wrong, sweetheart.” 

“I think,” you murmur just as quietly, letting your eyes drop indulgently to his parted lips. They’re so plush and inviting, they’re right there. You need only let yourself bend an inch and you could kiss him. You breathe in, “I think…”

Your hand falls softly to the basket of flowers beside you.

“I think your hands are egregiously meaty.”

You lift a handful of marigolds and smash them into his mouth, making him splutter and fall backwards. You cackle, flinging yourself in the opposite direction, scrambling up to run away. You swear you got some of them in his mouth; you can hear him coughing and spitting them at the same time as he laughs.

“I’ll get you for that!” You can hear him leaping up to chase you, and the prospect makes your heart pound in your chest, your blood rushing hot beneath your skin. You’re sure that it will be easy for him to catch you– you’re hoping for it, really.

You duck between the pines and into the trees. “Come sniff me out then, if you must!” 

You hear his laugh from behind you, almost sounding dark and menacing. Your hair stands on end, but your feet carry you through the trees, running even though you feel as though you’ve been struck by lightning. 

His feet pound the earth behind you, his laughter dancing on the breeze and combining with the music from the meadow. Beyond the trees, your contemporaries dance and make merry with the coming of summer. Here, in the woods, you run from some indeterminate end– one that you have an inkling of, like the barest traces of a memory, but you can’t quite make it out yet. 

Eddie’s hands snatch you by the waist, and you yelp. Heat bursts beneath your skin where he touches you through your bodice, whirling you around until your back hits the trunk of a tree. 

Your breath catches in your throat, heart pounding, chest heaving. Eddie is so close, and the air around you buzzes with energy and magic, as if the very trees themselves were singing. 

“You little minx,” Eddie muses, his voice rumbling low like thunder. “Just need me to chase you, is that it?” His eyes truly do shine red, you don’t think you’re imagining it– each time they catch the light of the moon, or a torch burning far off in the meadow, you see a glimpse of that subtle iridescent red of a forest creature in the dark glinting back at you. 

“I think you’re a spirit,” you whisper, the words light and airy in your throat as you try to regain your breath. “I think you’re one of the Fey. You can’t be real.”

Eddie has you caged in against the tree– one hand on the trunk beside your head, one on your hip. You don’t want to be anywhere else. “Oh, I’m very real, sweetheart. Shall I show you how much?”

His forefinger traces the line of your cheekbone, down the side of your face, to your jaw. You want it bad. You want him and anything he’ll give you– throw you to the ground, take you as prey, the lot of it. You won’t be married in the morning, but tonight all things are possible. 

You turn your face and drag your lips across his knuckles, half-gone in your desire. You barely even register the look on his face; eyes wide, lips parted in awe, like he’s never seen anything like you before. Like you confound him as much as he confounds you. A match made in heaven. 

Eddie catches your jaw in his fingertips, holding you like you’re made of glass, and he crashes down into you. He tastes of cherry wine, as rich and deep as the color of his blouse, which you fist in your hand to tug him closer. 

“Please,” you whisper against his lips. It falls like a sigh into his mouth, and his hand tightens on your hip momentarily before gathering your skirts. The fabric flutters as he pulls at them, tugging them up just enough to disappear beneath the hem. 

Your breath quickens. His hand makes contact with your thigh and you think, Oh fuck, this is really happening. 

Eddie’s finger’s pause on the breadth of your thigh, just above your knee. His forefinger strokes downward, passing over your garter strip and feeling the weave of the silk before he cracks a self-satisfied smirk at you. 

“Nice stockings. Get them recently?”

Your eyes narrow with false gravity, your nose scrunching. “I’ll kill you.”

His smirk stretches into a grin, and he scoffs a little laugh that flutters across your lips. It feels like a kiss. “Dying between the legs of my beautiful Queen of May sounds like a good way to go, actually.”

His hand drags hotly up your outer thigh, and the touch nearly burns you to your core. Eddie’s thumb presses against the skin just at the juncture of your leg, and you press your lips together to bite back a moan from coming out. Everything between your legs is tense, and pulsing, and turning feverish the longer he just pets at your skin and tugs your leg up to rest against his hip. 

His fingertips dig into the curve of your ass and the moan escapes you; high pitched, needy, embarrassing. You’re hot all over and you feel like you might die if he doesn’t touch you– you have a mind to tell him so, too, when Eddie dips his head and bites at your earlobe. 

He dips his finger between your folds, tracing one forefinger up the seam of your cunt, and you swear you could nearly scream. Flesh that is too hot and too sensitive bursts alive with feeling. His finger is drenched, your legs shake just from one touch. Is this what it always feels like?

“Oh, baby,” he coos as you whimper into his neck. His lips move slowly along your skin. Each move of his finger, just teasing you gently, dragging so slowly over your clit that your back arches and you keen long and high. “That’s it. This is what you needed, isn’t it?” 

You let out a pitiful squeak, nodding your head like you may explode rather than answer. He strokes you firmly and then gently, watching your face, studying your expressions. It’s so much and it’s not enough, not nearly enough to settle the throbbing in your core. 

“Please…” It’s the only thing you can come up with, the word bubbling up out of your throat before you can make it make sense. “Please.”

“‘Please’ what?” Eddie tilts his head. His pale skin nearly glows in the moonlight, the red in his eyes shining for a split second. “Please… here?”

His finger circles your entrance, prodding but never quite dipping in all the way. It’s just enough to make you see stars, just enough to turn you nearly insane. 

“Oh my God,” you cry out, fingers digging into his shoulders and gripping at his neck. 

Eddie hums, letting you feel the gentle touch for a few more seconds before it’s gone. You could cry. There are tears in your eyes– you could sob, throw a tantrum. You don’t think it would make him change his mind either way.

“My hands are too big, though, aren’t they?” Eddie shakes his head, mirroring your pout in a condescending manner that makes you want to smack him. Then he cracks a smirk, and you know he’s just being mean. “Mhm. Big and meaty. Too much for a sweet little thing like you. I wouldn’t want to break–”

You snatch his wrist through your skirts and bring his hand back between your legs. No preamble, no begging– this time he hisses, and you sigh with relief as you grind down onto not just his fingers, but his entire hand. 

“You’re not disappearing on me this time, Munson,” you nearly growl at him. Your tongue lavishes his skin, his long neck providing just the right amount of area for you to indulge in. 

“I would have stayed,” he gasps out when your teeth find a particularly tender spot under his jaw. “I’d have stayed if I knew you wanted me to.”

“I want you to,” you say, and you wonder if you’ll regret it in the morning. But the morning seems so far away right now, and his hand feels so good between your legs, and you don’t quite understand how you could regret anything that makes him look at you like that.

“Don’t– You can’t talk to me like that,” he whispers, and his eyes shine like rubies in the night as he gazes at you in awe. “You should know better than that.”

You do know better. But still, you tell him, “Stay,” and it’s like a dam has been broken. You know that you’ll never get rid of him now, and you don’t really want to. You want him to make a home in your chest, right against your heart. You want him to always touch you like this. You want him to always look at you with that same reverent gaze, like he’s just looked upon divinity.

Eddie crowds between your legs and his hand leaves you, but his thigh remains in its place. His leg presses tight to your core, the rough fabric of his trousers not nearly as warm as the touch of his hand, but just as erotic. You rock forward mindlessly against his thigh as he takes your face in his hands– one wet with your arousal– and kisses you breathless. His lips move over yours softly, and then passionately, until you take all that passion and feed it back into him twice over.

You lose track of time. The stroke of his tongue against yours, your hands in his hair, his firm thigh between your legs, all brings you to the edge of oblivion. You squirm against him and he chuckles against your lips. He knows what you want. He’ll give it to you, you know it, you know that he will–

And then a twig snaps. Someone calls your name just through the trees, and then, fucking Victoria breaks through the bushes just in time to see you jump and squeal, having to clutch at Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling over when he spins around to see who intruded on your precious moment.

“OH! I’m so sorry– I thought–” Victoria fiddles with a long lock of her hair, twisting it idly before tossing it over her shoulder. You’re sure you look disheveled, with Eddie’s crown of marigolds slowly unweaving itself in your hair. It’s obvious to her what you’d been doing– Her eyes rake up and down Eddie’s frame, standing halfway in front of you like a shield, his chest heaving, a dark spot on his trousers where his thigh had been pressed between your legs. “Well, you said you were going to be back, and we thought you’d gone missing…”

“I was in the middle of doing something,” you tell her bluntly.

“Understatement,” Eddie mutters under his breath, and you knock your elbow against his back.

You ignore him. “I thought you didn’t want to go into the woods?”

“Well, that was before we thought you… disappeared.” Victoria looks from you to Eddie. “Who’s this?”

“Something.” Eddie grins at her, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight breaking through the trees. “Sorry I stole her away from you. We were actually just having a fascinating conversation about when it’s appropriate to disappear– you could join us if you want?” 

Eddie glances over his shoulder at you, and smirks a bit at the expression of complete and utter envy on your face. You don’t want anyone to join. You don’t want to share him. You want him all to yourself. You want to grow on him like ivy until no one can see him but you. You want to hold him close to your chest and keep him there for eternity, and then some. 

“Oh, no, I–” Victoria blushes. She half-turns, like she wants to run away from the conversation entirely. “I just wanted to let you know that we’ve collected all the flowers we need, so… we’re going back to town. You can stay… if you want.”

You want to throw a fit.

She ducks back into the bushes quickly. Eddie is quiet for a moment, listening to her footsteps through the grass, before he turns to you. 

“You were jealous,” he teases, leaning towards you with that stupid self-aggrandizing grin.

Your face grows hot with anger and embarrassment. “You did that on purpose.” You shove him bodily, so that he stumbles a bit to the side, and he snickers. “I can’t believe you. She could have said yes to that.”

“Nah, she was too bashful. I knew she wasn’t gonna take me up on the offer. She wandered into something she wasn’t ready for.” Eddie leans up against a tree, smiling at you with a more resigned expression now. He looks you over, like he wants to burn the image of your kiss-bitten lips and rumpled dress into his memory. After a moment, he meets your eye again. “You should go. Get some sleep before the festival tomorrow.”

“But I–” You flounder. You just made so much progress, and now you’re just back where you began. You shouldn’t be proud about it now– not after he nearly took you to pieces with a single touch. Not when you can still feel the sharp edge of an orgasm pressing at your core, wanting to force its way out but with no way to get there now, and every look at him makes it press that much harder. “You know what– I don’t even know what I expected.” 

You march off towards the tree line. You have to find your fucking flower basket. You have to go and make garlands and slap together some bouquets for the festival tomorrow. You have to pretend like you aren’t dying inside from the disappointment.

“Princess.” You turn to him. He isn’t smiling anymore, he just looks disappointed as well. He glances up at the moon, and then back to you. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. Best not to go near the woods, okay?”

“Don’t tell me you believe in those stupid wolf-man stories, too,” you snap, beyond aggravated.

“Just promise me,” Eddie bites back, his eyes shining dangerously in the moonlight. “Promise me that you’ll stay in town. Don’t come near the woods. Drink, be merry, have a good time.”

“And you?” You feel a bit humiliated and desperate, vying for his time and attention– but you want it. You want it, you want him, more than anything, but you have a feeling you won’t be getting what you want, yet again. “What about you?” 

“I’ll find you,” he says firmly, and then lowers his eyes. Softly, he amends, “I’ll always come back to you.”

[l1tw1ck]

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: (dark lite) heir!jacaerys x afab servant!reader

cw: sweat/jace being a weirdo about it, dubcon, frottage, implied virginity loss, intentional use of minimal valyrian & i used a translator so don’t come for me, implications of jace intending to marry reader with or without their consent/reader thinking this is just sex but 💀, he didn’t say it but he would kill his family to make you queen, power imbalance (sorry y’all i just like it), wrote this at a vibrator’s pace (/j) so there are zero thoughts behind it

wc: 888 (✨🕯️)

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not translate, repost, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

“I am not certain about this, Jace…” You mumble, tugging at his sleeve so he’ll stop running towards his chambers. “I have to perform my duties in the kitchen, there is hardly time for this.”

Jacaerys Velaryon disarms you with a charming smile, too genuine and heartfelt to not return.

“No one will notice if I arrive at dinner a tad later than usual, there is no need to worry.”

The door is swiftly opened and shut in the blink of an eye. You find yourself gathered up in the prince’s arms and the swat to your bottom urges you to wrap your legs around his waist.

King’s Landing’s sweltering sun beats down on you from the window. Minuscule beads of sweat have already accumulated at your brow. Jacaerys hunches over you to lap them up as if he were a thirsty mutt, you can only wrinkle your nose in aversion.

“Perhaps we should allow ourselves time to get to know each other before we do this, my prince.” You attempt to convince him, upholding your mother’s belief that intimacy is to be between married folks only. It does not mean you shudder in repulsion at the thought of Jacaerys making love to you. Only that your shame will always best your lust in battle.

“Yet I feel as if I have already known you for a lifetime, issa rūklon (my flower).” He whispers, brushing a hand against the blossom he had tucked behind your ear. The pronunciation is not as confident as someone like his mother’s.

Innocent walks in the gardens with a prince were only a gateway to depravity, you suppose.

You breath hitches when his lips ghost along your collarbone. You would do well to remember that Jaceaery has the potential to be as much of a dragon as the rest of his strange kin.

Your trembling hands clutch at the prince’s bare shoulders. His clothes tossed aside with little care, all of his attention on you. To push him away or bring him closer… you are wracked with indecision.

“Shh, be calm. You are the safest you have ever been, in my arms and in my bed.” The constant repetition of possessiveness is heightened by the glint of gold in Jacaerys’s irises.

“Lift your hips for me, ābrazyrys (wife).” Your brow furrows at the unfamiliar pet name, but you pay it no mind.

Your flimsy dress glides down your body, the cheap strings tying it together are in tatters.

Jacaerys offers you no respite and instead brings both of your wrists together in one hand, pinning them to the bed over your head.

“I am still a maiden, my prince, I have never even kissed a man before.” You nervously say.

His adoring smile widens, “I know, it is the same reason I decline offers to visit the brothels. Our firsts were meant to be shared with each other.”

The soft glow of candlelight illuminates Jacaerys hovering over you, allowing the sexual tension to build. Your grip on his shoulders slackens and you weave your calloused fingers into his brown hair.

If only you knew how much it reminded Jacaerys of his mother’s wedding to Daemon, the looks they exchanged as they tied their souls together.

“We have all the time in the world.” He reassures you, despite the fact that it was obviously not true. “I’ll be gentle”.

You gasp as he cups your cheek with his free hand and gently drops his body weight onto you.

He seizes your lips in a bruising kiss that you would have previously thought him incapable of. The roughness of his tongue entangling with yours drives you to tighten your hold on his hair and pull it. Jacaerys moans at the infliction of pain and rubs his naked flesh against you. The friction of the slow movements are suddenly frustrating, you feel the oddest desire for him to move faster.

You whine in unison with him when you separate from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He licks it away with a flick of his tongue as he eyes bore into yours.

“Does that feel good, ābrazyrys (wife)? Your cunt is becoming wetter by the second.” He laughs, not cruelly, and continues grinding against your body.

“Yes…. my prince…. it feels …. so, mmm- amazing.” You struggle to reply, he was not even inside you and yet here you were bearing a striking resemblance to an animal in heat.

The sweat that your bodies produce makes the rutting sloppy, you have to frequently regain your hold on Jacaerys. His cock glides over your cunt and you throw your head back on the pillows. Something wet and sticky is smearing all over your belly every time he ruts against you.

This goes on until your body tenses up, your eyes widen and it is as if your gut clenches. Foolishly, you tug at his hair again but he just mouths ‘Yes!’ with his eyes screwed shut tightly as he keeps grinding. Your cunt pulses and a mix of white and clear fluid erupts from it and drips down to greet Jacaerys’s balls. His pace stutters then he glances down at the sight.

“Gods…. you served me a great deal. It is surely delicious, but I do hope that you are ready for me to return the favor.”

[ophelia-writes-fics]

you're screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar man [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

A second run-in with Kilgrave leaves you reeling.

Tags (please read!): smut, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, mind control kink, mentions of marking during sex, fear, implied fear kink, degradation, some praise (but mostly mixed with degradation), humiliation, humiliation/degradation kink, hair pulling, edging, begging, frottage, handjobs, overstimulation, like a LOT of overstimulation, i cannot emphasize the overstimulation enough, possessiveness, light face slapping, mirror sex, riding, clit slapping, painplay, spanking, sadism (kilgrave), masochism (reader), multiple orgasms, a frankly unrealistic amount of orgasms

Word Count: ~6.3k

TWs/CWs:

super dubious consent. like last time, reader is into everything without being compelled (with one smallish exception if you squint?), but again, it's not negotiated

unprotected sex

mind control/mind altering

Kilgrave is still a walking red flag (and we love him anyways <3)

(as always, talk to your partners, get consent, etc :))

part one here

It had been a long, exhausting week since you last saw the man known only to you as Kilgrave. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him since your last encounter, not just because you’d had to take the next few days off of work afterwards — your boss was worried that getting up onstage covered in bruises, scratches, and bite marks might send the wrong message to the patrons of the club. She’d been worried about you too, but you’d assured her that everything was fine. Which it was. The other reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was because you desperately wanted to see him again. 

However, you still needed money, so having time off at your night job meant picking up evening shifts at your day job, which was bartending at a casino on the other side of town. It was Thursday, which meant the place was absolutely deserted, and the patrons who did show up were barely drinking anything. The past two hours of your shift had involved nothing but standing behind a bar, staring into space, and wiping down the pristine counter every few minutes in an attempt to look busy.

However, you were snapped out of your mindless rhythm when your coworker tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey,” she said, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. “So, my break is coming up and I’m super tired and I really wanna take it, but there’s some weird shit going on in there.” She jerked her head towards the main room. “There’s this guy at the poker table? He keeps winning with the worst fucking hands I’ve ever seen, and it’s, like, insane amounts of money. Way more than I’ve ever seen anyone come in here with. Could you take over for me for, like, 20 minutes? And could you keep an eye on them and tell me what happens when I get back?” 

Damn it. 

There was one man you knew who could definitely win at high-stakes poker with the worst hands imaginable. You didn’t know for sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that was only growing that you’d be seeing him sooner than you’d previously expected. 

You took the champagne bottle from your coworker’s hands without a second thought and walked into the main room, bracing yourself for whatever waited inside. 

The moment you stepped through the door, all your suspicions were confirmed. Even with his back turned to you, you could practically feel his presence in the air. 

Right there, holding court in the center of the room, sitting at the head of a table covered in poker chips and stacks of cash, was Kilgrave. 

You sighed. Goddamn it, you thought to yourself. As captivating as he was, you were still technically on the job, and you’d get fired if the house lost that much money on your watch. You’d get in extra trouble if anyone found out someone had cheated their way into getting it. Your mind raced as you tried to formulate a strategy. 

Okay. You can’t try to kick him out. If you call security, he’ll just tell them to fuck off and they will. You can’t tell the dealer, because there’s no way he’ll believe that the other players have been mind controlled. Besides, you can’t call attention to yourself. He’ll recognize you. Unless…

An idea clicked in your head. 

There’s no way he’d give up that kind of money, unless he had something better to tempt him.

You weren’t sure it would work, but if it did, well… it was a win-win situation, wasn’t it? 

You slowly crept up to the table. No one spared you more than a passing glance, including Kilgrave, whose eyes were firmly on the cards in front of him. You snuck a look over his shoulder as you approached. He really did have the worst hand imaginable. It was almost funny. 

You took a breath to steady yourself, then softly cleared your throat as you placed a hand on his shoulder. 

You’d been expecting a few different reactions, but you didn’t expect him to shake you off without even looking up. 

Oh, of course he’s a dick to waitresses. It deeply annoyed you that, somehow, this didn’t make you want to fuck him less. Irritated, without giving it a second thought, you gave him a light, backhanded smack on the arm. 

The table went silent. That got his attention. 

He turned around to face you. His expression, which had started as a mix of bewilderment and anger, quickly shifted to one of alarmed recognition. He blinked once, his brow furrowing. 

“It’s you,” he said, his tone unreadable. 

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s me,” you replied. 

Kilgrave stared you down for a moment. You desperately wanted to break eye contact, for him to forget you were ever there, to just go back to work, until suddenly, his expression changed slightly, and he turned to face the men at the table, setting his cards down. 

“Right. I’m leaving. Do not get up from this table, and don’t cheat. We’ll continue this game when I get back.”

He stood up and took your arm, pulling you away. 

“Are you really just going to leave them there?” You craned your neck to try and see if his command had worked, and sure enough, everyone remained seated and still. A knot formed in your stomach. 

He didn’t answer as he pulled you out of the room and down the hallway to the coat check, snapping his fingers at the employee behind the counter. 

“You. Take over for her. Serve champagne, clean tables, whatever it is she does.” Kilgrave plucked the bottle of champagne from your hand and thrust it at the checker. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it. “Close the coat check. We’ll be going back there. Don’t bother us.” And with that, he breezed past, pulling you into the coatroom with him and slamming the door behind you both. 

The moment the door was shut, Kilgrave cornered you against a wall — not touching you, but close enough that he could grab you if you tried to leave. 

“What are you doing here?” he hissed. 

“I work here!” you replied indignantly. 

“Tell the truth.”

“I. Work. Here. It’s my day job.” 

His posture relaxed slightly, but he still didn’t step back. 

“Did you follow me here?” 

“No,” you answered, keeping your tone as calm as possible. You just hang around shady establishments a lot, apparently, you added silently. 

He leaned back a bit. 

“Why did you approach me?” 

“Because you were illegally winning a ton of money off the house and I don’t want to get fired,” you huffed, before somewhat reluctantly muttering, “And I wanted you to fuck me again.”

“Repeat that last bit?” 

“I wanted you to fuck me again,” you snapped, a bit louder than you’d meant to. “But frankly, right now I’m not in the mood anymore.”

He pursed his lips. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re keeping those people prisoner in there!”

“Which people?” 

You stared at him in disbelief, trying to gauge whether or not he was messing with you. Shockingly, his confusion seemed completely sincere. “Those men at the poker table. Are you just going to make them sit there for however long you’re gone?” 

He glanced in the direction of the casino and sighed with irritation, as if he’d just remembered they were there, before shaking it off with a slight roll of his eyes. 

“Forget about them. Come upstairs with me.”

Your brain filled with that all-too-familiar cold fog. It felt like you had tripped going up the stairs - your whole body was thrown off balance, your heart raced, and your thoughts raced to catch up after the interruption. What had you been thinking about? Something about the main room? 

You must have been worried about someone covering for your coworker. Yes, that seemed right. He’d told someone to do it, hadn’t he? Yes, he had. Then it was fine. There was nothing to worry about. 

With that, your brain fog cleared, and your worries went with it. You realized you were trailing behind him as he walked towards the elevators. 

As you passed the entrance to the casino itself, you turned your head slightly and peeked into the room. You cocked your head. Huh. I wonder what all those guys are doing just sitting at that table. I don’t think they were there before.

-

When the elevator arrived at the top floor, Kilgrave walked ahead of you along the hallway to the penthouse suite at the very end, pointing you towards the bed once you were inside. 

You grinned, reclining on your back and supporting yourself on your elbows as you kicked off your shoes, watching him shrug off his jacket and undo his belt before sitting down at the armchair in the corner of the room. 

He then turned his gaze toward you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Stand up,” he ordered, as if it should have been obvious. You obeyed, and it felt like second nature by now. You felt the cold hardwood floor under your feet, even through your stockings, and you couldn’t help but turn your gaze slightly downward as he observed you, scanning you up and down for any imperfections. 

He sighed. “No, no, this won’t do.” 

Your heart dropped. He couldn’t be bored of you already, could he? You felt slightly panicky, as the reality of what he could do caught up to you again. Would he make you forget everything you’d done that day? Forget he existed? Would he kill you? Your mind raced as you tried to figure out if you could run before he ordered you to do anything. You felt your muscles tensing, preparing to bolt at a moment’s notice. 

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded, keeping his dark eyes on you. 

Your whole body flooded with relief and arousal. You briefly scolded yourself as you quickly stripped out of your uniform, the rational side of your brain reminding you that worrying that he was going to kill you if he was even slightly dissatisfied with you is probably a red flag before the horny side of your brain dismissed the thought with a well, he didn’t, and you don’t know he would, so it’s probably fine. 

You stood bare before him, hands clasped in front of you, obediently awaiting his instructions. He beckoned you over with a small motion of his finger, and you sank to your knees in front of him. You fidgeted nervously as he watched you, biting your lip as you worked up the nerve to ask him for what you wanted most. 

“Could you, um…could you do that…thing again?” 

His brows raised slightly. “What ‘thing’?” 

“The thing where you…um…command me, or whatever it is you call it. The mind control thing.” You hesitated before adding a quiet “please.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if you were expecting any response at all, but one of the last items on your list of things you were expecting to come out of Kilgrave’s mouth was a short, shocked, high-pitched laugh. A grin spread across his face as he stared down at you, and you felt a fluttering in your chest. 

“You really would let me do whatever I want to you.” It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded vigorously anyway. “God, that’s disgusting. You’re so desperate to get off that you’d cum your brains out if I mind controlled you?!” 

You squirmed, face burning as you clenched your thighs, and he laughed again. You felt pathetic, and it made your cunt ache for him. 

He considered you for a moment—you could practically feel him wondering what exactly he should do with you— before stretching one leg in out front of him, positioning himself so that the toe of his brand-new, expensive-looking leather dress shoe was just barely starting to press into your clit. You kept completely still, waiting for his orders, your body alight with anticipation.

“You want to get off that badly, then do it,” Kilgrave said, his bored tone only thinly veiling his enthusiasm to watch. 

You wasted no time, desperately rubbing yourself against him the minute you were permitted to, grinding your sensitive clit against the black leather. You bit your lip, moaning in humiliated arousal at the feeling, watching as your pussy dripped with need all over the supple material as you fucked yourself stupid. 

You felt Kilgrave’s hand in your hair, pulling you closer and shoving your cheek against his knee, holding you in place and keeping your eyes on him as you rutted against him. 

“You’re filthy,” he rasped, pressing his foot into your clit harder as you watched his arousal grow. “You’re disgusting, getting off like this, riding my fucking shoe, it’s fucking vile. God, I just want to watch you do that for hours…and you would, wouldn’t you? If I ordered you, you’d do it. I don’t think I’d even have to control you, I think you just want it that badly. Such a depraved little thing, aren’t you?” 

You nodded, and he smiled at you. 

“Of course you are. Keep going. Don’t you dare stop. I don’t care how sore you get, you’re going to keep going until you wear yourself out. Do you hear me?” He pulled your hair tighter, turning your face to him for emphasis. “Nod if you understand me.” 

You obeyed, feeling the friction against your cheek as you nodded again. You kept going, desperately chasing your orgasm, your senses blurring into a pleasured haze as your eyes rolled back, when without warning, your whole body seized, harshly stopping your motions. It took your brain a moment to process that Kilgrave had told you to stop. You looked up at him, and you must have looked as betrayed as you felt, because a self-satisfied smile appeared across his face. 

“Oh, sorry,” he mocked, mimicking your affronted pout before his grin returned. “It just looked like you were getting close. I wanted to remind you that I didn’t say you could cum.” 

You whined in protest, but the sound was cut off when Kilgrave pressed his hand over your mouth. He leaned back once you were quiet, his detached demeanor only slightly interrupted by the visible outline of his hard cock in his pants. 

“Keep going, but don’t cum. You don’t deserve it yet.” 

You obeyed. Of course you did. Your body betrayed you, automatically stopping you before you could cum, each time getting just that little bit closer before it was ripped away, over and over again until you lost count. It was torture, and although you would have done anything for it to end, you couldn’t get enough, drinking in every sensation at once. All the while, Kilgrave watched you intently, only speaking when you began to beg after what you thought was your seventh time being edged, although you’d long since lost count. 

“Kilgrave, p-please, I can’t anymore, it’s too much, I’m going to break, I can’t take any more!” 

He gave you a mocking little frown in response. “What a shame. I thought you were tougher than that.” 

“I am, I can be! I just — ahh! Please, please, I just want it so bad…” 

“Oh, is that it? You just want it so badly? In that case…” He patted your head, which would have made you melt if it hadn’t been so condescending. “You can make yourself useful, can’t you? Use that empty head of yours and think of something you can do to earn it.” 

You didn’t dare stop rubbing against him, afraid you’d be punished if you stopped edging yourself for even a moment, so you kept going, the torturous friction of the fabric of his trousers against your clit making your heart pound as you leaned forward to undo his belt and take his cock in your hand. 

He offered nothing more than a small moan from between clenched teeth in response, but that was all you needed. You stroked his cock, slowly and gently at first, watching him as closely as you could. You followed every cue his body gave you - every small motion, every sharp breath, every thrust of his hips - chasing them, desperate for more. You wanted to earn it. You needed to earn it. Your body longed for it like oxygen, longed for approval, for your orgasm, for his cock finally inside you again. 

You stroked him harder; slow, steady motions that lavished him with attention and calmed your shaking hands. Judging by the way he gripped the arm of the chair, he seemed to be nearly as close as you were. You sped up both your hips and your hand, trying to finish him off before he could rip your pleasure away again, moving entirely on instinct and desperation. However, as you neared your peak, you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away. You looked up, your vision slightly cloudy, prepared to beg him not to stop you, but the command never came. All he did was look back at you, eagerly watching as you fucked yourself against him. 

You refused to let your opportunity slip away. Unless he forced you not to, then you were going to cum. You sped up, ignoring the ache in your muscles. Your hips stuttered and ground against him harder, rubbing your clit with short, rough little thrusts. Your vision was completely out of focus now, your eyes half-lidded — your brain was too fucked out to function properly, let alone see clearly. Every bit of your body burned, but all you could do was keep going and going and going, getting closer and closer, your breath coming in quick gasps as you rapidly approached your peak, and he still didn’t stop you.  

Your entire body tensed as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, muscles trembling from being clenched so tightly for so unbearably long. You gave a strangled moan that became a wail as the sensation fully washed over you, and you collapsed against Kilgrave, your hips still erratically jerking against him. You felt overwhelming relief as he let go of your hair; the sudden loss of tension made you realize how tightly he’d been holding on. He shoved your chin upward with his knee, forcing you to make eye contact. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, and your stomach dropped. You were thoroughly worn out and so overstimulated it hurt, but the look in Kilgrave’s eyes told you that you weren’t getting a break. 

You clambered unsteadily to your feet, nearly falling twice, legs still shaking. You barely managed to get upright enough to collapse facedown onto the duvet. 

You moaned weakly, feeling Kilgrave’s hands around your hips before he flipped you over so that you were facing him. He leaned in close, lips nearly touching yours, his hands holding your wrists in place by your head, his cock pressing against your clit in a way that had you fighting your own instincts to squirm away from the overstimulation.  

“Now, did you follow my orders from last time?” 

Your mind raced to clear away the exhaustion as you tried to remember the request he’d given you the last time you met, and you nodded. “I haven’t slept with anyone else,” you panted as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Hmm,” Kilgrave purred, letting go of one wrist to tangle his fingers in your hair. “And why is that?” 

You blinked in confusion. “Because…you told me to?” 

Kilgrave clicked his tongue once in disapproval. “No, no, that can’t be it,” he said, his expression one of feigned contemplation. “Any order I give wears off after twelve hours. You wouldn’t know that, of course,” he gave you a quick glance before continuing, “So you must have not wanted to.” 

For some reason, you’d assumed that his commands lasted longer. Looking back, it was odd that you couldn’t tell when whatever power he had wore off. But he was right, you supposed. Whether the thought was originally yours or not, you hadn’t wanted to fuck anyone else for at least six days after the command would have worn off, so you hadn’t. 

You nodded in agreement, a bit dazed. It was so hard to focus with him touching you. 

“And why didn’t you want to?” 

That you didn’t have an answer prepared for. 

“Um…I…just didn’t?” Your response came out like a question. 

“Hmm, not quite.” Kilgrave tilted his head slightly to one side, waiting for another answer, but when you stayed quiet, he leaned in further, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“The correct answer,” he whispered, his tone growing dangerous, “is that you don’t want to fuck anyone else because you’re mine. Isn’t that right?” 

The familiar brain fog took over as you felt a warmth in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, it is,” you replied instinctually. 

“Then say it.” 

“I’m yours, Kilgrave.” 

“Again.” 

“I’m yours! Now please, please fuck me, or I swear to god I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” His tone darkened. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what you could do against him. You couldn’t overpower him. You wouldn’t ever want to. 

He reached up and slapped your face — lightly, but hard enough to know that he wasn’t afraid to take things further if you didn’t cooperate. 

“Answer me, slut. What exactly are you going to do to me if I don’t fuck you right now?” 

Your mouth opened of its own accord at his command. “Nothing,” you choked out. “I won’t do anything. I’ll be good.” 

Kilgrave rewarded you with a satisfied “hmm” and a smug smile before pulling away. 

“Show me your neck,” he ordered. 

Confused and a bit terrified, but in no position to argue, you craned your chin upward, closing your eyes as you exposed your most vulnerable flesh to the man above you. You could feel your pulse jump, just below your sensitive skin. You couldn’t hold back a shiver when Kilgrave ran his fingertips, gently and slowly, down the column of your throat, over the nearly-faded bruises he’d left the last time you saw each other. 

He went still for a moment, lingering on the prints of his fingers on your skin before pressing down ever-so-slightly. 

You gasped, but managed to keep yourself from squirming as Kilgrave wrapped his slender hand around your neck, not hard enough to choke you, but enough to make you need to take a deeper breath than normal. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your thighs together and willing yourself to be patient, before you felt Kilgrave’s other hand shove your legs apart before slamming two fingers into you. Your body jerked involuntarily as he roughly scissored them, thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling away entirely and sitting down on the edge of the bed. You glanced up at him, slightly confused. 

“Come here,” he ordered, patting his leg in a clear invitation for you. “Face the mirror.”

You obeyed, struggling to move on your still-shaky legs, situating yourself so that your back was to him as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You gasped as you felt Kilgrave press his cock into you as you did so, impatiently forcing you backwards so that he was buried deep in your cunt with barely a moment for you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His hands grasped your inner thighs, pulling them apart roughly so that you had no choice but to watch yourself being fucked. He leaned in close, biting your neck before ordering: 

“Ride me. I don’t care if your legs hurt. Don’t stop fucking yourself until I tell you to.”

You were in no position to disobey. You moved as best you could, still trying to stay as close as possible to him, grinding your hips against his lap, closing your eyes as you felt him hit your most sensitive spot. He moved his legs so that they were keeping yours wide open, pinning you right where he wanted you. He grabbed your chin roughly and forced your half-lidded gaze towards the mirror on the wall in front of you. 

“Look at yourself. Look at you, getting fucked by a complete stranger. It’s pathetic. I absolutely ruined you the last time we met and you loved it so much, you just couldn’t help but bother me while I was working, eh? Oh, you must have been desperate for me,” he murmured through clenched teeth as he fucked into you, jerking his hips upward. “No one else can fuck you like this, can they? I’m the only one who can control you the way you love so much, so I’m the only one who gets to fuck you. Isn’t that right?”

There was that possessiveness again, making your heart beat faster than it already was. You reached upward, clutching the hand that held your face, and leaned back into him. 

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, Kilgrave…” 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer as he fucked you. You worked your hips, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your eyes stayed glued to yourself in the mirror, staring at your fucked-out reflection, thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of his dick inside you. One of his hands wandered to your hip, gripping it hard; you could feel his nails digging little crescent marks in your skin. His other hand found its place at your clit, delicately massaging it with light, little circles, teasing you, tormenting you.

You arched your back in a silent plea for more, your moan becoming a sharp yelp when his hand came down hard and slapped your clit at full force. 

Your legs automatically tried to close, but Kilgrave had you firmly kept in place. He leaned upward, pulling you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest. 

“Oh, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it too much?” 

You paused, considering it, then nodded weakly, your eyes screwed shut. Your heart had skipped a beat at the pet name, but you had more pressing matters at hand. 

“Really? You came like a whore when I hit you with a fucking belt, but if I slap your cunt just a bit too hard, then you start whining?” 

You nodded again, feeling thoroughly humiliated. 

Kilgrave hummed in satisfaction. “Mmm. That’s too bad, I suppose. You’ll have to learn to like it.” 

You whimpered and writhed as another hit came, then  another. You moaned, starting to feel the stinging pain give way to a wave of pleasure, but still you trembled, completely overwhelmed. 

“See? Look at you. You’re desperate for it. I know how much you love it when I hit you. Stop squirming and let me give you what you want.” 

Your body relaxed involuntarily, eyes automatically locking onto yourself in the mirror. Again his hand came down, and your hips jumped forward, anticipating it.

You bit your lip as the stinging pain slowly settled into a pleasurable tingling feeling, watching as your clit grew bright red and slightly swollen as Kilgrave kept going, slap after slap after slap until you were gasping for air, jerking your hips against nothing in a desperate bid to cum, your head spinning. 

He stroked your clit with the tip of his index finger, just the barest of touches, but it was enough to make you flinch at the sensitivity. You groaned, but you still thrust your hips forward, wanting more. 

“Oh, look at that. Feels good, doesn’t it? Greedy fucking whore.” He punctuated the sentence with one final, harsh slap before pulling out and moving you off his lap.

You tumbled limply, until you landed in the middle of the bed, facedown and panting, feeling your abused clit throb pleasurably with every heartbeat. You didn’t even have time to try and take a full breath before you felt Kilgrave position himself above you, his cock brushing at your entrance. 

 “Are you gonna be good for me?” he murmured close to your ear. 

You nodded, and you felt him lean closer, his teeth grazing your neck before he spoke again. 

“Then tell me what you’re going to let me do.” 

You exhaled a moan before taking a shaky breath in. “Whatever you want to do. I can take it.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you sighed. You wriggled your hips, trying to maneuver yourself back onto his cock. “Just fuck me, I’ve been thinking about you all week — oh my fucking god!” 

Kilgrave had grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, forcing himself inside of you with a deep moan that was almost a growl as he did so. You frantically moved to match his pace, throwing your hips back against his to meet every brutal thrust. Your eyes rolled back as you felt him fuck against your most sensitive spot, over and over and over again, never letting up, never faltering. 

He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before ordering you to cum. No teasing, no making you beg, just one simple order: “Cum.” And you obeyed, grinding out your orgasm, keening with pleasure as you did so. 

It was nearly a full minute before your brain started working again and you realized he hadn’t stopped fucking you. Your thoughts were hazy, but you had the vague feeling that that was odd. You remembered last time, and how he’d refused to let you cum until he was right on the edge. So, you mused vaguely, you’d figured he was close, but he was still going.

However, you didn’t have any time to think about it any further, because he was ordering you to cum again - the same way, just one blunt command. 

“Cum.” 

And your body obeyed without warning. 

You normally needed more time between orgasms; your body was still reeling from the last one. And yet, you still found yourself cumming, trembling from the force of it, your cunt clenching onto him desperately. 

Your shaky hands faltered where they gripped the sheets and you briefly scrambled to try and hold yourself upright, but your efforts were in vain. The minute you thought your body was stable, the command came again. 

“Cum.”

This time, you completely let go. There was no way you could have even tried to hold yourself together. The pleasure was blinding you, making your heart skip a beat as it raced in your chest. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets. The only thing holding your hips upright was Kilgrave, his grip on you holding firm even as you convulsed, unable to regain control of your exhausted muscles.

You were nearly hyperventilating now, your breath coming fast and hard as you turned your face to the side and desperately tried to get words out. 

“Wh…what…what the f….fuck are y…you…doing to me?”

You couldn’t see Kilgrave, but you heard the grin in his voice, even as he panted with the exertion of fucking you. 

“You said I could do whatever I wanted. What I want is to see how many times you can cum before you tire yourself out. I’m not going to stop until you can’t move, and you don’t get my cum inside you until then. Besides, being mind controlled makes you a complete slut anyway, doesn’t it? You’d do it, whether I commanded you to or not. Now be a good girl and cum.”

And your body obeyed without question. 

You bit down on the sheets to keep from biting your tongue, half-pained moans of overwhelming bliss escaping from your throat in guttural, needy cries. You couldn’t feel your legs anymore; you had no idea how your lower half was still upright, and you could feel every nerve in your overstimulated cunt begging for a moment of rest that never came. 

For what felt like hours and hours, every time you started to come down from your last orgasm, Kilgrave would order another from you, and you had no choice but to comply. Eventually, your shaking legs gave in, but he just maneuvered you onto your back without hesitation and kept going. 

Around the time of what you thought must have been the eighth one (although there was no way you could have kept track at that point), you mustered every single bit of your strength to try and resist his orders. You held out for as long as you possibly could, letting the cold fog fill your head for as much as you could bear it, your entire body shaking with the effort, until you cracked and the torturous pleasure flooded you, leaving you even more of a wreck than you had been before. Even worse (even better?), the feeling of being mind-controlled by him acted like a direct line to your brain’s pleasure center, and trying to disobey only made the feeling intensify the longer you tried to resist. Whenever you finally let go, your orgasms only got stronger. And the stronger they got, the more vicious Kilgrave became, taunting you as he fucked your dripping cunt: 

“Oh, yes, take it, just like that, we both know how much you love getting fucked like this…oh, are you trying to resist again? That’s precious. Fine, struggle all you like, you know you’re going to cum anyway, don’t you? There you are, just cum for me. Let it all out. It feels so good, doesn’t it? I know, it feels so good for you to be treated like a slut. God, look at your cute little cunt, leaking all over me, making such a fucking mess. Keep taking it. This is where you belong, isn’t it? Getting impaled on my cock. You’re all mine, all fucking mine. Cum for me, cum for me…such a good girl…fuck, you’re so tight, how are you still so tight after being fucked for this long? It’s like you were made for me, made to get fucked by me. God, I love hearing you scream for me…I don’t even think I’d have to tell you to cum at this point, I think you’d just keep going all on your own, wouldn’t you? Mmm, of course you would. But I know what you’d like more than that. You want me to order you to, don’t you? Come on, beg for it…ask nicely…there you go, I’ve trained you so well, haven’t I? Go on then, cum for me…”

Finally, finally, long after every single one of your senses had been dulled into near-nonexistence, long after your dripping pussy had gone numb with overstimulation, and long after you stopped being able to process anything Kilgrave said, your jerking muscles gave into exhaustion and collapsed, leaving you unable to do anything but moan quietly, your voice having gone hoarse ages ago.

As your cunt twitched weakly with what you prayed would be your final orgasm of the night, you felt Kilgrave’s grasp on you tighten. Through your blurred vision, you saw him throw his head back in ecstasy as he came deep, deep inside you. 

Your eyes rolled back and your lids fluttered shut as he pulled out of you, the relief so intense you would have cried if you hadn’t been so worn out. 

You heard soft footsteps as he made his way to the side of the bed, then felt his hand brush something wet from the corner of your mouth. You felt slightly embarrassed at the realization that you were so fucked out that you’d started drooling. 

You mustered your last bit of energy to crack one eye slightly open. 

“Thank you,” you sighed, your lips curving into a smile as your eyes shut again. You thought you felt a hand brush your hair, but you couldn’t tell - you were already half asleep and dreaming. 

-

When you woke up, it was well past midnight. Your shift had ended hours ago. You groaned as you stretched your sore muscles and rolled over in bed. You were briefly surprised at the realization that you were under the covers, before deciding that you must have pulled them up around you in your sleep. You didn’t let yourself consider the alternative, or that you’d woken up in the exact same position you’d fallen asleep in. 

You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust your vision to the dark. You weren’t expecting to see Kilgrave there, but his absence still caused a slight pang of hurt. Still, you figured, no one had come up to clean out the room or kick you out since he had, so he had at least booked it for the night. You decided to take advantage of it as your exhaustion caught up with you again and you sank back into a deep, deep sleep.  

-

You woke up a full twelve hours later at noon the next day. Thank god it’s my day off, you thought to yourself as you gingerly got out of bed. You slowly put on your uniform, picking it up from where you’d left it on the floor, wincing as you moved. Still, despite the slight ache that you felt all over, you’d slept better than you had in ages. 

As you smoothed your skirt down, you felt an odd texture inside one of the pockets, a slight crinkling that gave you pause. You felt your heartbeat quicken as you pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. You slowly, anxiously unfolded it to find three sentences written in pencil. The first was an address — based on the street name, you knew it was downtown, in an incredibly expensive neighborhood. You felt a grin spread across your face as you read the rest of the note:

“Save me the trouble of coming to your job again. 8:00 pm tomorrow.

-K.”

You knew exactly where you were going to be tomorrow.

A/N: i literally cannot thank you guys enough for sticking with this, i know the wait has been absolutely insane, but i really do love writing for you guys, and i want to thank each and every one of you for reading <3 as always, my requests are open, and feel free to like/comment/rb if you enjoyed this fic :)) thank you all again for your patience and for all the love - i had NO idea my first kilgrave fic would blow up so much, but i'm delighted that it did!

🍓 the title of this fic is from million dollar man by lana del rey 🍓

[steddieas-shegoes]

harder stuff

for @steddiemicrofic prompt 'score'

rated m | 351 words | cw: implied drug use, implied sexual content | tags: frottage, making out, secret relationship, banter, season 1/2 era idk you pick exact timelines, tommy and steve are still friends here either way

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"If you're lookin' to score something harder, I'm not your guy," Munson says as Tommy stands awkwardly behind them. Steve rolls his eyes. "Might have to go to one of your daddy's friends for that shit."

"Dude, I'm not asking my dad's business partners for coke," Steve looks over at Tommy. "Nevermind. Just give us the other stuff."

Eddie hands over a bag of mushrooms and a few joints.

Steve hands him the cash, then hands the stuff to Tommy. "Wait in the car," he tells him. Tommy goes because he's nervous, but Steve's gonna hear all about how he shouldn't be ordering him around later.

"What an obedient dog you have there," Eddie teases when Tommy's gone.

Steve pushes Eddie against a tree, crushes their lips together. Eddie moans, grabs the sides of Steve's head to hold him in place.

Steve's knee is between his legs, rubbing against Eddie's hardening dick.

"Thought you said you didn't have anything harder," Steve laughs against his mouth.

"Oh, I thought you asked for coke, not cock," Eddie grins as he finds the perfect angle for rubbing off against Steve's thigh. "My bad."

Steve bites his shoulder hard and he feels like he's going insane. Tommy's not that far away, sitting in Steve's car waiting for him to return. They can't do anything; They don't have time.

Steve's acting like they do, though. As if they have all the time in the world.

"Why'd you bring him if you were gonna try to fuck me against a tree?" Eddie gasps as Steve's mouth sucks a bruise against his collarbone. He doesn't know why he's humoring him like this. It's gotta be the charm.

"He wouldn't fuckin' leave," Steve says against his skin. "Had no choice."

"I'll come to yours later," Eddie offers.

"Want you now," Steve nips at his neck. "C'mon. You can be quick."

"Excuse me, I-" They both freeze when Tommy's voice is heard not too far away, yelling for Steve. "You need to go. Later, okay?"

"But-"

Eddie shuts him up with a kiss.

"I'll bring the harder stuff later, baby."