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kimoralov3 · 3 months ago

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daylight

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

description: steve has had a lot of trouble in his love life. but he's also one of the biggest idiots known to man because the girl of his dreams is standing right in front of him

warnings: swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns, everyone is a lil mean to steve, mentions of stancy (not like that), like i said steve is an idiot, slight angst, fluff

word count: 3059

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because this technically was smth that she requested before i changed it. also shout out to her mom for the knowledge about phones from the 80s lol

“Steve, you can’t keep staring at her like some sort of lost puppy.” Robin says as she helps Steve put some beer and sodas in the cooler.

“What are you talking about?” He asks as he turns back to the fridge.

“Oh please, you’ve been staring at Nancy and Jonathan ever since they got here.” Robin comments as she opens the bag of ice and clumsily dumps it into the small cooler.

“Have not.” Steve mutters as he shuts the fridge door. Robin gives him a look, the look she seems to be giving him a lot these days. “Okay, fine. I have been staring at them, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh really? What other reason is there for you to be staring at your ex and her new boyfriend?” She says suspiciously.

Steve pauses, trying to find the words to express the tangled mess that is his love life. He eventually gives up, shaking his head as he grabs the cooler off the counter and walks outside to the pool. “I can’t explain it.”

“Oh come on, you gotta give me something.” Robin pleads, giving Steve her best puppy dog eyes.

Steve glances over at his best friend before quickly looking away. “Those don’t work on me.” He says definitely, but quickly gives in when he spares another glance at Robin. “Seeing them together just makes me think about all the things I don’t have.”

“Wow, that’s really sad.” Robin says solemnly as she holds the back door open for Steve. “You sure you don’t still have feelings for Nancy?” She adds after another moment of silence.

“Absolutely positive, Robin. That ship sailed a long time ago.” He explains as he sets the cooler by the pool.

And he wasn’t lying. Steve really was over Nancy. Sure, there had been a time when he thought the two of them would evolve into something more, but that was ages ago.

But now Steve was alone for the first time in years, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He’d been on dates, but they’d turned more into a chore than something he was actually enjoying. They all left him feeling like a piece of him was missing, a piece of himself that he just knew was important.

“Steve?” A voice called, pulling him from his well of self despair.

“Yeah?” He says as he turns around, nearly falling over when he notices who’s in front of him.

“Can you move over so I can grab a soda?” Y/N asks politely as she gestures to the cooler behind Steve.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course.” Steve stutters as he moves out of the way, nearly falling into the pool. Y/N gives him an awkward smile as she grabs a soda before walking back over to sit with Jonathan and Nancy.

“What was all of that about?” Dustin asks as he appears beside Steve, munching on some Goldfish.

“Jesus kid, you need to wear a bell or something!” Steve exclaims as he presses a hand to his fast beating heart.

“Or maybe you just need to be more observant.” Dustin says mockingly as he flicks a Goldfish at Steve’s face, causing the older male to swat at him.

“Will you two quit it!” Robin says as she separates the two of them. Dustin flips Steve off before going to go sit back with the party and Suzie.

“I swear that kid has no manners.” Steve mutters to himself as Robin walks away to go sit with Eddie and Chrissy. Steve is so busy mentally planning out his revenge against Henderson that he doesn’t notice a certain someone staring at him like he’s hung the moon and the stars.

—

“Robin, you seriously need glasses or something. How could you put Ferris Bueller and Top Gun in the same section?” Steve complains as he removes the tapes from the shelf.

“Oh quit being a baby and move them, I’m busy here.” Robin calls from the back. Steve rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he moves to the back of the store to grab his cart.

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” He says when the front door rings. He sets the missorted tapes on a random shelf as he walks back up to the front counter.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help y— Y/N?” Steve asks, shocked to see her here.

“Oh, hey Steve. I forgot you worked here.” She says with a laugh as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Effortlessly, and beautifully to him, if anyone cared enough to ask what he thought. Which was a rarity.

Steve gives her a small smile, silently cursing himself for not taking his normal amount of care when he was getting ready this morning.

Robin really needs to learn some patience.

“Yeah, have been for a while.” He says as he rubs the nape of his neck. “So, what can I help you with today?”

“Well, my parents are out of town so it’s just me at home. Figured I’d get some movies to keep myself occupied for a while they’re gone.” She explains as she looks around the store before her eyes land on Steve once again, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “Got any recommendations for me?”

“Of course, walk with me.” He says, shooting her his signature smile as he walks over to the staff picks shelf.

“Is that Labyrinth?” Y/N asks with a chuckle as she picks it up and inspects the back.

Steve groans, rolling his eyes as he sees the movie. “Fucking Eddie. He must’ve snuck it onto the shelf when he was here earlier.”

“Well, he has good taste. Think I’ll be taking this one with me.” She says as she waves the box. Steve can’t explain it, but he feels a small tightness in his chest.

“To each their own, I guess.” He says with a shrug, trying to ignore this strange feeling. “Anyways, I would definitely recommend these if you’re looking for a more calm night in.”

Steve hands over The Goonies, The Muppets Take Manhattan, and Back to the Future, waiting patiently for a reaction.

“Oh my god, is this a Muppets movie?” She asks with a laugh, inspecting the box. “My little cousin loves this movie.”

“Hm, I don’t know how I should feel about that. Are you calling my cinematic taste childish?” Steve asks with a chuckle as he leans against the shelf.

“I would definitely call it that.” Robin says, wheeling a cart as she walks past the two of them. Steve glares at her while Y/N snorts, hiding her smile behind her hand.

“I wasn’t going to say that it was childish. I was going to say that it’s…interesting.” She explains, her voice pitching up on the last word.

Steve scoffs at that, shaking his head. “Sure, we’ll go with that.” He says jokingly. “So, will this be all for you?”

“Uh, yeah. This should be good enough for the weekend.” She says as the two of them walk back to the front counter.

“Glad to be of service.” Steve says as he takes a small bow, cursing himself for how stupid he probably looks.

“You know, you’re really funny.” Y/N says as Steve rings up the movies. Steve smiles softly, more affected by her words than he would like to admit.

“Could you tell Robin that? She says I have the humor of an old man.” He jokes as he puts the tapes into a bag. Y/N snorts again, this time a little louder.

“See what I mean? Very funny, Harrington. Very funny.” She says as he hands her the bag. There’s a brief moment of silence before Y/N speaks up again. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow? You know, watch a movie with me or something?” She asks nervously.

Steve’s mouth hangs open a little, blinking slowly. There was no way he heard that correctly. “You want me to come over?”

“Yeah. Only if you want to, of course.” She clarifies quickly.

“Of course I wanna come. I’ll even bring some snacks.” He says as he leans his arms on the counter.

Y/N smiles at that, nodding her head. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She says, giving Steve one final wave before leaving.

“Man, you are such a doofus.” Robin says as she comes up behind him.

“Can you not?” Steve says as he turns around to face her. Robin smirks, winking at him before walking away.

—

“You did what?” Eddie asks with a laugh as he stops strumming on his guitar.

“Don’t laugh at me, I need your help here!” Steve says as he throws his soda can at Eddie.

“Hey, careful! This is my most prized possession.” Eddie says as he throws the can back at Steve, missing him entirely. “Now, tell me exactly what happened.”

“Y/N invited me over, and I went because of course I would, you know? And everything was going really well, at least to me.” Steve explains as he leans back against Eddie’s dresser.

“Okay, doesn’t sound too bad so far. What happened after that?” Eddie says as he turns the knobs on his guitar.

“Then I thanked her for inviting me and left.” Steve says simply. Eddie abruptly stops what he’s doing, setting his guitar down on his bed.

“You did what now?” Eddie exclaims as he stands from the bed, causing Steve to look up at him.

“Left. Why, what’s wrong?” He asked, very confused by Eddie’s sudden outburst.

“You’re a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong.” Eddie says as he grabs Steve’s arm and hauls him into the living room. “Stand right there.”

Steve grumbles something under his breath as he rubs his arm where Eddie had grabbed it. “Since when are you strong?”

“Amps are heavy as shit man. Now shush.” He says as he dials a number on the phone. Steve mutters something about Eddie being rude as he watches him press the phone to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” Steve asks, only to be shushed by Eddie. Steve rolls his eyes, watching as Eddie waits for the person on the other end to pick up.

“Hey Y/N! Do you have a moment to talk?” Eddie says when the person on the other end picks up. Steve automatically stands up straighter, listening closely to try and hear what Y/N was saying.

“— Not in the mood—” Is the only thing that Steve can make out from here, causing him to frown. Was Y/N really that upset with him that she didn’t want to talk to anyone?

“Just humor me, please? What exactly happened yesterday with Harrington?” Eddie asks as Steve gets closer to the phone.

“I did what you and Robin told me to and asked Steve out, and absolutely nothing happened. I even tried scooting closer to him to see if he would catch the hint, but he didn’t! And then when it was time for him to leave, I went to kiss his cheek and he hugged me, Eddie. He hugged me!” Y/N rants from the other end of the line. “So either everyone is bullshitting me and Steve Harrington actually isn’t into me, or he’s the most oblivious man on the face of the planet.”

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look as he says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. “See? Idiot.”

Steve bangs his head against the wall as Eddie pats him pitifully on the shoulder. “So you mean to tell me that yesterday was supposed to be a date?” He finally says when he’s done with his attempt to knock some sense into himself.

“It was a date. Could you honestly not tell?” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No! I just thought that she was trying to be nice!” Steve says as he slides down the wall.

“Man, can’t believe this. Former king of Hawkins High is sitting on the floor of my trailer, having a crisis because he blew a date with a pretty girl.” Eddie says as he shakes his head. Steve doesn’t even bother responding, sitting there with his head in his hands. “So, are you going to try and fix it or not?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks as he finally looks up.

“God, since when did I become the smart one here?” Eddie asks in mock disappointment. “You need to go back over to Y/N’s and make everything right.”

“How am I supposed to do that? I think you of all people should know that I’m not good with this stuff.” Steve said as he stood up. Eddie groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

“My god, Harrington. You’re hopeless.” He says. “Here, I’ll tell you exactly what to do.”

Under any other circumstance, those words would’ve sent fear straight into Steve’s heart. Especially coming from someone like Eddie. But he was desperate, and desperate people don’t always make the smartest decisions.

—

Steve stands outside of Y/N’s door, her favorite flowers in hand. He stands there for a moment, mentally going over everything that Eddie told him to say. He takes a deep breath before giving up and knocking on the door.

It’s silent for a moment before Steve hears the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. The door opens up to reveal Y/N standing there, arms over her chest.

“What do you want, Harrington?” She asks coldly. Steve gulps at that, rocking back and forth on his feet a little. Guess I deserve that a little.

“I just came here to apologize. For yesterday.” He says as he holds out the bouquet of flowers. Y/N hesitates before taking the flowers from him, smelling them quickly.

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” She asks after a moment.

“For being an idiot. If I had known that you wanted yesterday to be a date, I would’ve handled things a lot differently.” Steve explains as he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Different? Different how?” She asks as she leans against the doorframe. Steve pauses, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say.

“Can I come in? I think it would be better.” He asks as he scratches his head. Y/N gives him a suspicious look before stepping aside and gesturing to the living room. Steve mutters a small thank you as the two of them walk into the living room and sit on the couch.

“So, what exactly is it that you would’ve done differently?” She asks as she sets the flowers on the coffee table.

“For starters, I wouldn’t have let our first date just be us watching a Muppets movie on your couch.” Steve says in a joking tone, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. “If I had known, I would have taken you out to dinner. Hell, if you really wanted I would’ve taken you to go see one but god I would not have gone to go see a freaking kids movie.”

“Why, what’s wrong with kids' movies?” Y/N asks teasingly, causing Steve to laugh for the first time since he got there.

“I guess you’re right.” Steve says as he turns to face Y/N. “Can we get a do over date? I promise that this time I won’t act like a complete idiot.” He says sincerely. Y/N seems to mull it over for a moment before looking up at Steve.

“Promise?” She asks softly, as if she was still hurt and embarrassed from what happened the night before.

“Swear on my life. And you know if I break it, I’ll have Nancy, Robin, and Eddie on my ass about it.” He adds jokingly, but it isn’t really a joke. He had seen first hand how scary Nancy could be when she was upset, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Again.

“Fine. But I’ll need you to ask me properly.” She says after a longer moment of consideration, sitting up straight against the back of the couch.

“Fine by me.” Steve says as he stands up, pulling Y/N with him. They give each other small smiles before Steve clears his throat dramatically. “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. Longer than I would personally like to admit. So, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?”

Y/N stands with their hand on their chin, looking off into space as she pretends to think long and hard about Steve’s offer. Steve starts to get nervous that she might actually reject him when she leans up, pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “Of course I’ll go out with you, Steve.”

Steve feels the heat rush to his cheek at Y/N’s actions, looking down at them with the biggest grin in the world. “You know, technically we’ve already had our first date. So it wouldn’t be completely insane of me to kiss you, would it?” He asks as he steps closer to her.

Y/N lets out a chuckle before responding, her hands behind her back. “No, no. I don’t think it would be completely insane, as you put it.”

That’s all the permission Steve needs before he pulls Y/N closer by her hips, their lips slotting together perfectly. He feels more than hears her sigh into the kiss as she raises her arms to wrap them around his neck.

When they both pull away for air, Steve swears he can see all the stars in her eyes. “That was…”

“Wow, how many girls can say that they took Steve Harrington’s breath away after a single kiss?” She asks teasingly, although it was easy to tell by the heat of her cheeks that she was just as — if not more — affected by the kiss as Steve was.

Steve rolls his eyes, which was seeming to become a common practice for him these days. “Way to ruin the moment.”

Y/N shrugs, giving Steve one of her award winning smiles. At least they were in his mind. “What can I say, it’s one of my many special talents.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #kimoralov3

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gonzo-rella · 6 months ago

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This Pride Month, I'm going to try to write some queer-specific fics, mostly headcanons, imagines and ficlets. I've not got anything planned really, outside of a set of Schitt's Creek hcs (Roland and Jocelyn with a trans kid) that I aim to get out by tonight. I'll look through my list of requests to see if there are any queer requests that I feel motivated to write. But, if there are any queer requests you'd like to make, feel free to send some in. Preferably, not something too plot-heavy. I'm happy to write feel-good stuff and angst. I'd be especially excited to write some nonbinary!reader fics, since there don't seem to be many in the fandoms I write for, but if you want another queer identity!reader then feel free to request that instead! If you have any further questions about requesting, feel free to send them in!

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oncasette · 2 years ago

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SFW!

always had you

#cameron frye #cameron frye x reader #ferris bueller #ferris bueller’s day off

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mothandpidgeon · 3 months ago

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Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks.

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile.

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids.

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle.

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice.

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie.

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful.

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day.

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit.

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair.

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says.

You stifle a laugh.

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does.

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober.

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles.

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.”

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering.

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak.

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter.

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like.

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes.

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too.

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works.

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate.

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited.

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat.

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes.

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs.

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say.

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands.

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess.

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that.

“Yeah,” he replies.

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again.

“You’re staring at me,” you say.

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair.

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time.

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull.

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same.

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss.

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager.

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you.

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip.��

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging.

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand.

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care. The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting.

“Ow,” you complain.

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks.

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain.

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly.

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says.

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin.

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat.

“Me either,” you tell him.

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do.

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need.

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off.

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute.

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond.

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating.

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need.

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle.

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release.

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be.

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him.

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music.

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend.

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down.

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

“I really like you,” he says.

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own.

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #young!dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #virgin!dieter bravo

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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago

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Housewife

Part - 5

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

"You know you boys look amazing in an apron." You wolf whistled at them both. Billy acted annoyed but he secretly loved the attention. Stu shook his ass at you making you laugh. Stu offered to do the dishes but for some odd reason they both fought over who would do them. Now there they stood aprons covering thier clothes. You and Stu practically had to hold down Billy as you tied the strings around him.

"I'll fix the popcorn!" You cheered hearing a groan from both men. "We just ate please..." Stu whined holding his stomach. "You two are party poopers. Well, while you do the dishes I'm going to change into my pajamas." Both their heads snapped towards you. "And I'm locking my door." You shouted down the hall.

You weren't really sure what to wear. You didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself but in a way you did. They had girlfriends you knew that. The way they looked at you however was addicting. You weren't going to sleep with them so what's the harm in looking good? A voice in your head screamed male validation but you ignored that. You pulled the silky nightgown from your closet debating on wearing it. "Too obvious." You muttered putting it back in the closet.

Leaning your head out of your room you shouted. "How cold is it supposed to get tonight?" Within seconds you hear them both answer. "Very cold, extremely cold, even freezing, it might snow." You know damn well in the air of California it wasn't going to snow. You grabbed a pair of silky shorts and pulled out the matching top. That would have to do. Once you were changed you went back to the kitchen seeing the dishes were all done. "Thank you guys."

"Thank you for dinner." Billy said honestly. "Yeah what he said." Stu was laid out on the carpet as Billy glared at him. "Anytime boys." Stu looked at your new outfit trying to figure out how you looked so hot in pajamas. "Why didn't you wear what Bil- what we got you?" He corrected himself. You plopped down on the couch next to Billy. "Because I knew if I did, you two wouldn't want to watch a movie." Stu nodded as he shrugged knowing you were right. "Who said I wanted to watch a movie now?" Billy said dangerously close to your ear. You jumped up going towards the TV. "Alright! What are we watching first?"

Christine was pretty good, not as good as Stu made it out to be though. "The coolest car ever!" Stu shouted which you quickly shushed him. "I don't live out in the country like some people, keep your voice down." Stu covered his mouth in regret. "Yeah Stu keep your voice down." Billy repeated and you slapped his chest. "Ow!" He laughed. "My turn, put on Ferris Bueller's day off." Stu groaned sliding off the couch and over to the VCR.

"You'll love it. If you liked Dazed and Confused you'll like this." Billy cocked his head. "You never told me you liked that movie?" Stu ignored his friend's eyes focusing on the tape. "I saw it once." He played it off which confused you. "Once? You said you went to see it at the movies 4 times." Stu silently begged for you to shut up. "You never told me that." Billy said once again a calmness to his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd care." Stu bit back. "What else are you not telling me?" You realized very quickly this could get worse somehow. "God you two fight like a married couple. Just put the movie in and get up here I'm freezing."

The arguing stopped immediately. Once the movie started Stu sat at the end on the sofa leaving you in the middle. Carefully you wiggled down laying your head on Billy's lap. "This doesn't bother you does it?" His eyes glanced down and back up again just as fast. "No you're good." Stu grabbed your legs laying them on his lap. Ever so often he'd drag his hands up and down your legs mindlessly. After a while he genuinely started to like the movie. "Those two are so banging."

"That's what I was thinking." Billy responded to Stu. "You think Ferris and Cameron are a couple?" Stu made a noise shaking his head. "Did you see the way they look at each other or how no matter what bullshit Ferris drags him into he goes along with it?" The room grew silent with a unanimous acknowledgment of the current similarity. The movie continued and so did Stu's commentary. "Oh no, all three of them are fucking." You laughed and Billy took notice. "What's so funny about that?"

"Oh nothing it's just I can see it." The movie continued with Stu laughing his ass off at some parts. Billy's hand found it's way into your hair playing with what he could grab. Slowly your eyes fell shut. "She reminds me of you almost." Stu said turning to look at you. "Man she's asleep." Stu loudly announced, annoyed you both didn't finish the movie. Billy looked down watching your chest slowly go in and out. "Then why are you yelling?" Billy snapped. "Sorry." The boy mumbled. "Cut all this off while I take her upstairs."

"Why do you get to put her to bed she barley even trusts you awake?" This Billy found particularly funny. "That's rich coming from the guy that's done nothing but hit on her since you met her." Stu moved your legs standing up off the couch. "I do that with everyone it's charming." He laughed until he saw the way Billy was looking down at you. "Why do I get the feeling I'm being replaced?" Stu paced on the shag carpet. Billy sighed not wanting this shit right now. "We'll talk about this later."

"No I think we'll talk about it now. A year ago you came to me in need and I did everything I could to help. It was month after month of "I was drunk" or "I don't even remember it." I put up with it hoping once this was all said and done with, we'd run away and have our sequel. That was the plan wasn't it Billy?" You wavered in and out of consciousness barley piecing together what was being said. "She's different Stu and you know that. You feel it too. I need time to think to plan around this." He looked down at you noticing your eyes twitch. "We'll talk about this later."

Stu knew that was the end of the conversation. "Y/n..." He gingerly whispered trying to wake you up. "Mhm?" You stirred swearing they were fighting. "What's wrong?" You asked trying to look around. "Nothing's wrong we were trying to figure out if we should pause the movie or not. I'm going to take you to bed and me and Stu will head there shortly." You just rolled over burying your head against his stomach. Billy slowly moved off the couch, picking you up bridal style. Stu followed making sure Billy followed your rules.

Billy placed you softly in bed hoping to just look at you for a bit. "If it's too cold on the floor you can climb in here." You mumbled. You weren't in your right mind Billy knew that and so did Stu. That wasn't stopping them however. "Go cut the lights and everything off then bring your bag up here." Stu like the good little soldier he was, he did as told.

"Here." He handed Billy his sweat pants. "We're sleeping in our shirts." Billy said as he unbuckled his belt. "What why? We never sleep with our shirts on." Billy folded his pants sitting them on the chair in the corner. "Because if she wakes up and sees us half naked beside her she's liable to freak thinking we did something. So please, just do as as I say for once." Stu had to give Billy this one. He was the smartest piece of shit in town.

Stu was the first one in bed with you. Making you roll over and wrap your arm around him. "Billy look!" He whispered like you were a cat in a cute position. You tossed your leg over him next making it impossible for him to move. "Billy help! Her feet are fucking freezing!" He whispered once more earing a laugh from Billy. "She looks so peaceful doesn't she?" He taunted as Stu struggled against your restraints. Before getting into bed Billy cut off the light making the house seem earily dark.

Billy climbed in, his back towards you and Stu. Without warning you rolled over putting Billy in the same position Stu was. "She makes a good big spoon don't you think?" He taunted back but deep down Billy had never felt more comfortable. "Shut the fuck up." He mumbled holding your hand that rested over his waist. His thumb traced little circles on you hand. Stu scooted behind you. He snuggled up knowing damn well all three of you would wake up in a cold sweat from just being around each other all night. "Goodnight boys." Your voice was dangerously clear. Stu was already half asleep but Billy however heard you. He wasn't sure how much you knew but he'd have to quickly figure it out.

(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

Part 6

Taglist: @katie-tibo @danodoll21 @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607

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eucalyptus-lvs · 3 months ago

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Carmen Berzatto’s Night Off - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

I would have had this out earlier, but I got hung up on a two-parter that I’m putting out in the fall. The platform is still pretty new to me so I’m still learning as well. This could be in the same universe as my last two or a stand-alone. I’m trying to think of a nickname or smth to use in place for this series without putting an actual name so it’s still immersive for everyone. I was also thinking about doing requests if it’s smth that has interest so if anyone has thoughts on either feel free to lmk. As always any thoughts or constructive criticism are appreciated! Thank you to everyone who has read and supported me. Love you all! - Elli🌿

TW: None.

A knock sounds at the office door, startling Carmy before it slowly open.

“Hey.” You call to him, walking over.

“Hey, what’s up?” Attention turning back to the papers in front of him, arm circling your waist. He squeezes your hip as you stand beside him while remaining in his chair.

“Just wanted to come see you before the day starts.” You lean down to place a kiss to the top of his messy curls. “Getting some paperwork done?”

He moves his arm to run both hands down his face in frustration before settling them in his lap. “That and the menu Syd’s pushin’ for.” Tipping back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

You lean back against the desk to face him, crossing your arms. “Shouldn't you be working on the menu Syd wants…with Syd?” Questioning what, to you, seemed obvious.

“Yeah, I will. I just wanna get some general ideas down and go from there.” he shrugged.

You lock eyes with him, expression showing you think he's full of shit. “You know this does nothing for your control freak allegations, right?” you laugh.

“I'm not a control freak. I just want everything to go well. It has to if Syd wants her star.”

Tilting your head with an endearing look, you grab his hand in yours. “I know you do, but maybe you should give yourself a break. Take a night off.”

He scoffed. “I can’t just take a night off. There’s too much that needs to get done. This fuckin’ paperwork, the menu, makin’ sure the deliveries are comin’ in and that those deliveries are actually what we fuckin’ ordered and-” He ranted, getting increasingly frustrated with each task mentioned.

“Fine, fine.” You squeeze his hand as a way to gain back his attention but also ground him as he spirals. “I get it, but you can leave on time for once. You get here early and you stay later than anyone else.”

“Because I'm running it.” he interjects.

“And the place won't cease to exist if you leave with everyone else. C’mon, just one night, and tomorrow you can dive head-first back into the neurosis. I'll even come in early with you and help if it'll make you feel better.” You plead with your best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“Don't look at me like that, Sweetheart. Please.” He tries looking away only for you to huff like a child trying to get their way.

“You are in need of some serious rest and recovery. Slow down a bit. Enjoying your life won't kill you.”

“Baby, c’mon. I gotta try and figure out these recipes or I'll get behind a-and everything will get derailed-”

“Okay, Cameron Frye.” You roll your eyes, mocking him. “I swear, your mind goes straight to the worst-case scenario every time.” Releasing his hand and turning to flip through some of the papers on the desk.

“Who?” He looked confused, shaking his head.

“Cameron Frye. Ferris Bueller's Day off? The best friend.” Focusing on what you think are the beginning sketches of a dish.

“Never seen it.” He said flippantly, going back to looking through the files.

Your eyes shot back up to look at him. “What?! How have you not seen it? Isn't old stuff your whole thing?”

“Vintage is not my whole thing.” He corrects. “I just like it. And I'm talkin’ about denim, not an era as a whole. I barely consume current media. Let alone somethin’ that came out 4 decades ago.”

“Oh, come on. You're missing out. The 80s had some of the greatest movies ever made. The practical effects of horror were unmatched. The love stories were iconic. Not to mention all the feel-good nostalgia. Which, not to be that girl, with your attitude you could probably use in your life.” You ramble on.

“Ouch.” Throwing his hands up slightly in mock offense.

You sigh, feeling as though you’re fighting a losing battle. “Okay, how about a trade? Tonight we go back to my place and have an awesome 80s double feature. You can cook whatever you want for us to enjoy it with. Call it practice for the menu.”

“I can cook anything?” He asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

“Yes, as long as you agree right now to two movies. I pick. No backing out.” You stuck out your hand with a pointed look. Giving the impression of a serious transaction.

If he was being honest, he found it quite cute.

“Okay.” He took your smaller hand in his, sealing the deal.

A smile takes over your serious expression, so wide your face aches.

“Okay! You make plans for dinner and I'll think about what we’ll watch.” Nodding your head as you move back towards the door, making your way out of the office to complete the necessary tasks before opening.

Carmy matches your smile. Happy to see you so excited. Shaking his head as his mind fills with ideas of what you might like and what is to come of the night.

______________________________________________________________

A knock sounds at the door for a second time today. Not to the office this time, but to your apartment. You race over and throw it open. “Well, hello.” You grin.

Carmy stands in the doorway, grocery bags in hand. “Hey, Sweetheart.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek as he passes you to walk to the kitchen, immediately making himself at home as if it were second nature.

When setting the bags on the counter he sees that there are already some there. “You stopped at the store?”

“Yeah, I just had to get a few things for tonight.” You shrugged.

“You shoulda told me. I woulda picked it up for you.” He didn't like the idea of you going out of your way for him. It was something he had trouble getting used to while being with you because he never wanted to inconvenience you.

“Well, next time we'll go together. Save the trouble.” You tease. Diverting his attention by pulling him into you, wrapping your arms around his neck while his came to your hips.

You bring him in for a soft, slow kiss. The kind that made him seem to sink into you.

He likes the idea of doing something so domestic with you. He always thought he was fine with being alone.

That was until he met you.

Now a trip to the grocery store sounds like the best way he could spend an evening.

He can’t stop himself from imagining how much of the cart you’d fill with random items. You’d swear it was because you had some sort of craving, but he’d know it was more likely that you’d gone on an empty stomach and were just hungry.

Breaking the kiss, he smiles at the prospect. “Okay.” He replied sincerely.

You release him so that he can continue to unpack the groceries, standing to the side of him and watching. “So, Chef Carmen. What's on the menu?”

“Chef Carmen?” He raised an eyebrow, letting out a chuckle.

“Stop, I'm taking this seriously.” You laugh. “You need inspiration for the menu and I'm trying to simulate a good environment for that.”

“I don't think a proper simulation involves you in the old Dio shirt you like to sleep in as a uniform.” Gesturing to your attire with a teasing grin.

“Fine, forget it. What's for dinner, Bear?” You relax, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter.

“Spaghetti.”

"Spaghetti? Hardly seems like something you'd put on the menu.” You questioned, confused.

“It probably won't be on the menu.”

“I thought that was the whole point of tonight? Practicing.”

That was the point originally, but the more he thought about what you would like and how the night would go he didn't want to practice.

He wanted to take work out of the equation completely.

It was obvious you were excited about tonight and he wanted a dish to match the energy of an evening with you.

Something warm and comforting.

“I changed my mind. It’s uh- kinda a family thing. Thought you'd like it.” He tries to sound nonchalant, but it comes out unsure as he spares a glance your way.

“Spaghetti sounds great.” You said softly, a small smile gracing your face.

He has to change the subject quickly before he abandons the idea of cooking completely in favor of you.

He clears his throat as he starts prepping the ingredients for the sauce. “What are we watching?”

“Well, I wanted to pick something I thought you’d like, but since you don’t watch a lot of stuff already I had to gamble with my favorites. First is The Thing since I talked about practical effects. It’s horror, but I don’t think it’s really scary in case that bothers you. The other isss-” You pause to drum your hands on the counter.

Carmen shook his head with a smile and laughed. This is why he likes you.

One of the many reasons he likes you.

You were weird but in a good way. Having the ability to be effortlessly fun in a way he could never be.

“Ferris Bueller's Day Off!” You beamed. “An obvious choice, I know, but I figured it’s the reason we’re having this night in the first place. Plus, it kinda has a little of everything. Friendship, romance, adventure and it takes place in Chicago! A little bit of a 180 from The Thing, but hopefully you’ll like it. It was hard to narrow it down to just two.”

“I feel like this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” He teases with a small grin.

He can see an immediate change in your body language. Suddenly turning shy for the first time tonight. He curses himself for mentioning it in the first place.

He was good at nothing if not ruining a good thing.

“It’s easy to talk about things I like,” you take in a deep breath, fidgeting with your hands “with someone I, yknow, really like.” Moving the strands of hair that had fallen in your face as your eyes focus on the floor.

Oh.

He pauses, thoughtfully. It was often hard for him to approach direct conversations, especially ones centered around feelings. But he knew if there was ever a time to try it would be for you. “Well-uh, those sound good. Maybe we could do another night? For the other ones you had in mind.”

The olive branch is all you need to perk up. Going right back to the bubbly personality he became accustomed to with you.

“Yes! Okay, I have so many ideas. A close runner-up was The Lost Boys. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about vampires though. And Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice was a good one and I heard they’re doing a remake so we could watch both if you like it and compare-“ You continue to ramble as Carmen listens intently. Nodding along to everything you're saying as he cooks for you.

______________________________________________________________

The dishes have long been forgotten on the coffee table. Empty since the first half of The Thing.

You’ve both settled back into the couch with large blankets and at least half a dozen snacks you picked up on the way from work because you insisted that ‘people enjoy movies more with fun snacks’.

It's logic he’s not quite sure he agrees with, but when it came down to the two of you he wouldn’t claim to be the expert.

Now onto the next movie, Jennifer Grey is front and center on the screen as her character sits in the police station.

You stare ahead, almost hypnotized. “Yknow she had been in a couple things at this point, but I think I read somewhere that her role in this is what helped her get Dirty Dancing. It came out a year after.”

“Is that one you wanted me to watch? Dirty Dancing?”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d seen it before. It was something Sugar had played once when taking over the tv in the living room and he was forced to watch that or nothing at all. It wasn’t a movie he remembered in great detail, just that he was able to sit through it.

He was thankful Mikey and Richie weren’t around that day or he never would’ve heard the end of it.

You shrug, still transfixed by the screen. “Yeah, if you’re down for it. It would only be my second time so it’ll be pretty new for the both of us.”

“You only saw it once?” He asks curiously.

“Yeah, last month.”

He paused, looking over at you.

Sensing his gaze you turned to him and locked eyes. “What?”

“So you’re givin’ me all this shit about missin’ out on 80s pop culture when you didn't even see one of ‘em until a month ago.”

“I love the movie genre. It doesn't make me an expert! Plus, I used to get creeped out by the age gap between her and Patrick Swayze. But they do this flashback cinema thing at the movies sometimes and I thought ‘How often do people our age get to say they've seen Dirty Dancing in theaters?’ I figured if I was gonna give it a real shot I should watch it the way it was intended.” Your eyes lock back on the screen as a sheepish smile appears.

He just continues to look your way. “Did you like it?”

A grin breaks out on your face and you turn to him once again.

“I kinda loved it.” Your nose scrunching a bit. “I was wrong! I was totally wrong. The soundtrack was great. The choreography was hot. Even though the age thing creeped me out I did end up liking their relationship a lot. I mean, their chemistry was unreal. I guess you could say that about most romantic films, but I don't know… It felt different. Maybe because I built it up in my head?”

You let out a small laugh, turning back to the tv. “As soon as I left the theater I played the soundtrack and sang to it the whole way home.”

A moment passes as he looks between you and the screen.

He leans close to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, and whispers, “Nobody puts Baby in the corner.”

You turn to him so quickly he thinks you might have whiplash.

“Hey! You got one!” You giggle.

Smiling at him, you once again turned your attention to the movie. Only this time scooting closer to rest your head on his shoulder.

As the movie goes on, shared laughs and your mumblings of the dialogue can be heard filling the small apartment.

Towards the end, he goes to make a joke. When he gets no response he looks down to find you asleep on his shoulder.

Captivated by how peaceful you look, the voice of Ferris pulls him back to reality.

“Yup, I said it before and I'll say it again. Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Leaning down, he places a kiss on your forehead before laying his head against yours.

He's glad he didn't miss this.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto x you #the bear x reader #the bear x you #Carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff

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puck-luck · 3 months ago

Text

co-eds | mattias samuelsson & jack quinn

warnings: dom!ms, sub!jq & sub!fem!reader, threesome (mmf!), teasing, humiliation, degradation, praise, fingering (f!receiving), head (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, use of sex toys, references to voyeurism/listening in, uhhhhhhh that's all i can think of but like they do literally everything but have actual penis in vagina sex (don't worry it's still hot) pairing: mattias samuelsson x fem!reader x jack quinn summary: based on the prompt "I'd 100,000% fall in love with Mattias if he was like my friend's roommate and I was watching them play Mario on the couch" but then turned into best friend's roommate which then turned into "oh wait these bitches are soooo homoerotic... this needs to be poly like ferris bueller" wc: 10555

The first time you met Mattias, it was the third day of classes of your sophomore year and your best friend from freshman year, one Mr. Jack Quinn, had invited you to his new house for a housewarming dinner. You had gotten yourself dolled up– jeans rather than your normal sweats– and driven to the parking lot closest to their place before walking the rest of the way.

Mattias had swung the door open and looked you up and down, making you do a double take at his large frame filling the doorway.

“Hi,” he greeted, his Joker-ish smile crossing his face.

“Hi,” you replied. “Is Jack here?”

Mattias took you in again, then stepped aside so that you could enter the house. “He’s in the kitchen,” Mattias told you. He closed the door behind you, then collapsed on the couch in the living room like he’d been through a very hard day’s work.

That was four months ago– and plenty has changed.

Now, you’re a mainstay at the Quinn-Samuelsson house. You spend your evenings there, whether you’re studying, eating, or just hanging out. You often spend your nights and your mornings there, too– waking up in Mattias’ queen-sized bed, tangled up in his blankets because the boy is a restless sleeper and wrapped in his arms because, despite his restlessness, Mattias can barely stand when he’s not touching you.

It started out small– he would tease you for being smaller than him, comparing the size of your hands or sitting next to you on the couch during movie nights just close enough that your thigh was pressing against his. Then, he grew bolder– a hand on your knee when seated or at the small of your back when walking behind you. It all came to a head one night after a rowdy game of bar trivia, where you and Jack had stumbled back to the house arm-in-arm and laughing. Your laughter and ruckus had woken Mattias up and you were the bold one this time, wrapping your arms around his waist and smiling up at him.

“Hi, Tits,” you slurred kindly the first time you slept in his bed, using the nickname that you and Jack had concocted to talk about Mattias behind his back. It was all out in the open now– a side effect of your drunkenness. “You’re looking especially tall today.”

He had laughed out that breathless chuckle of his and hugged you back good-naturedly, then asked if you wanted to use his bed instead of the couch that night. You had agreed and after a copious amount of whining, Mattias had joined you instead of squeezing onto the couch in your place. Jack had long since gone to bed and you and Mattias had stayed up talking about nonsense. As the sun crested the horizon, his nose nudged against yours and you realized how close you were. There was still a little liquid courage left coursing through your veins and you blame that for the way you tipped your chin up and brushed against his lips.

It had been lazy and casual, a barely-friends with benefits situation that became more and more frequent until you were practically dependent on your dose of Mattias to get through the day.

The problem with your new relationship with Mattias is that Jack is starting to feel plenty neglected. You understand it and he doesn’t have to tell you that he’s missing you for you to notice– it’s all in his recent distance from you, how he sits across the room in the chair rather than on the couch with you and Mattias and how he keeps his hands securely in his pockets when you walk back from class or the library.

It’s really starting to bother you, but you can’t talk to Jack about it. He’ll just brush you off and say nothing is wrong, even though it so clearly is. Instead, you’re watching Mattias and Jack play a video game that doesn’t capture your interest– that, despite knowing that you came over today to hang out with Jack, is focused on Mattias’ long fingers, the ones that you’ve become well acquainted with since the first time you kissed him.

You have tried to tear your eyes away from the digits and even succeeded a few times, but your vision keeps wandering back. You blame the smooth, deep tone of Mattias’ voice, laughing at Jack each time his character gets killed or teasing him whenever he gets close to winning, but not close enough. Mattias has a habit of using the same tone to tease you, especially when his fingers are prodding at your insides or your lips are wrapped around his cock.

Tonight is about your friendship with Jack, you remind yourself again. He’s the whole reason you even know Mattias and even more than that, he’s your best friend. You adore Jack, even when he’s bitching and whining and moaning about something petulant or putting off his homework until you relent and shove yours across the table for him to copy. He’s the best person you’ve met since starting college and you never thought that you’d be one of those girls that abandons their friends as soon as they find a boy to fuck, but you’ve been acting that way lately. You feel guilty.

Even Mattias’ unimpressed eyes and quirked lips when you refuse to sit next to him can’t convince you to budge. You’re borderline ignoring the boy that has learned just how to push your buttons and make you scream, and he’s getting a kick out of it.

Jack is locked in on the game now, trying to capitalize on Mattias’ wandering eyes. He’s biting his bottom lip and evaluating the screen with unblinking eyes.

You’re so fond of him– he’s competitive, like you. He’s eager to prove himself and anxious to shine, which doesn’t manifest in your classes so much as when you’re around the house. He cooks and it’s always delicious. He doesn’t even mind doing the dishes afterward. What you know started as a class crush– and nothing more– has bloomed into a strong friendship that you wouldn’t trade for anything, not even Mattias.

Regardless of how Mattias drives you crazy, in the best way.

Despite his focus, Jack loses by a margin. Mattias’ bragging smile causes a flutter of butterflies to erupt in your stomach even if you’re shaking your head.

“It’s too easy,” Mattias says with a shrug. He tosses his controller onto the table in front of him and kicks his feet up, crossing his ankles and threading his fingers behind his head. The motion broadens his chest and accentuates his thighs, but once again, you refuse to be distracted.

“That’s okay, Jack.” You comfort him with a pat on his knee.

“He wins every time,” Jack complains, tossing his own controller onto the table and adjusting his hat on his head. He does it like a tic, you’ve noticed, when he’s frustrated. “He doesn’t even have to try.”

“Not just when it comes to games, eh?” Mattias teases the boy with a wink, knocking his shoulder against Jack’s before standing. He winks at you, too, then bids you both goodnight. He walks past you, stepping over Jack’s legs rather than taking the easy route, and ruffles your hair annoyingly when he does so.

You pout and try to fix your hair when he’s done, but you’re secretly pleased– you love how Mattias shows affection. He’s so loose with it, not generic at all, and it always makes you smile.

The tall, broad boy disappears up to his bedroom, leaving you with Jack. You turn towards him and throw your legs over his lap, the arm of the couch pressed against your middle back. Jack’s hand falls on your shin, his thumb rubbing over the skin.

“What was that about?” You ask. Mattias’ final gloat seemed pointed and specific, but you didn’t know that there was tension between the boys. Surely one of them would have told you.

“Dunno,” Jack replies. “He’s so fucking cryptic.”

“We can definitely agree on that,” you say with a laugh.

Jack smiles and you sit in silence for a minute. Jack’s touching you comfortably, but the motion makes your skin tickle a bit, sending a shiver up your body. You blame it on the residual butterflies that Mattias left behind, still fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey,” you say, breaking the silence.

Jack fixes you with a quizzical look. “Hey.” He raises an eyebrow, but he’s still smiling a bit. His thumb has stilled.

“I know you’ve told me a million times, but are you sure you’re okay with me and Mattias hooking up?” You ask with a self-deprecating tilt of your head, making sure you don’t break eye contact with the boy, even as he starts to duck his head.

“Everything’s fine, I swear,” Jack assures you. He holds out his pinky and you hook your pinky to it, kissing the tip of your thumb. He’s got a soft smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and once again, you know that he’s not quite telling the truth.

You don’t want to push. You don’t want to force him to tell you something he’s not ready to say, but something about the Mattias situation is bothering him.

“Okay,” you relent, matching his smile. “You’ll tell me if it starts bothering you, right? I’ll kick him to the curb. Girl code?”

Jack scoffs, rolling his eyes at your insinuation. “I’m not one of the girls,” he grumbles.

“You like drama more than I do,” you point out.

Jack doesn’t have a smart reply for that, so he just stays silent. You laugh, then the air between you fades to silence again. This time, Jack moves your legs and stands.

“I’m gonna go to bed, too,” he says. “I bet Titty is waiting for you.”

“Yeah, probably.” You take Jack’s outstretched hand and he pulls you up. “He needs to wait sometimes. It keeps him humble.”

You’re walking towards the stairs and Jack gestures for you to go ahead. “You know, if you don’t hurry, he might fall asleep without you.” He follows you up the steps, footsteps quiet and sneaky like every other day.

“Always looking out for me,” you praise at the top of the stairs, at the fork in the road. Jack’s bedroom is to the left, near the shared bathroom, and Mattias’ is on the right. “See you in the morning, J.”

“Not if I see you first.”

You split up and you lightly knock on Mattias’ bedroom door before slipping through the crack he left open for you. You shed your sweats and pull on one of Mattias’ t-shirts, the one he wore earlier today. You crawl under the covers next to his warm body and he slings an arm over your waist to pull you closer.

“Good talk with Twos?” Mattias murmurs, his eyes closed and voice already drowsy. You hate how he can fall asleep so easily, but you love the scratchy quality his voice adopts late at night. It’s the best when his mouth is positioned right next to your ear and he’s telling you how tight you feel.

You have to shake the thought away. “Do you think Jack’s acting weird?” You ask, drawing an invisible line up his sternum, between his fleshy pecs that you love to poke until he flexes them and takes all his softness away.

Mattias snorts, laughing. “Of course he is,” he tells you. “He’s jealous.”

You lurch back, curling your lip and frowning up at Mattias. He blinks his eyes open to look down at you, mostly because of your movement and not because of what he said. He spoke like it was a known fact, that Jack was jealous.

“Of what?” You wonder.

“Of me, dude.” Mattias’ chest rumbles with the words and you tsk at the bro-y nickname. He continues on without acknowledging your distaste. “Jealous that I get to do this and he doesn’t.” He pushes your shirt up, cupping your breast and squeezing.

“No, he’s not,” you deny. “He’s never acted like that. It can’t be jealousy.”

Mattias chuckles. “It can and it is,” he insists. “You wanna know how I know?”

You’re stunned for a second by the glint in his hooded eyes and the way his teeth are barely biting down on his lower lip. He raises his eyebrows when you don’t respond, just a quick quirk that draws your attention.

You shrug, letting your eyes drift back to his lips. Usually, by now, you’ve kissed them. It’s getting harder to resist, especially when Mattias leans forward until you’re going cross-eyed to get an actual look at him.

“The other day, I was going to get a towel from the bathroom to clean you up after–” he fully bites his lip and winks. “– and I overheard a little something from Jack’s room. It sounded… oddly like your name, so I asked him about it.”

“You did not.”

“And after some pressing, he told me that he’d had a little crush on you last semester, but you were soooo nice that he never found the right time to make a move.” Mattias’ voice is hushed and teasing, smug like he’s bragging over another win in their video games. “And then you found your way to me.”

It’s a lot to process, but Mattias is leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. When he releases you and gets comfortable again, the cogs are still turning in your head. His eyes are closed when you speak.

“Possessive much?”

Mattias trembles with a laugh, pulling you closer and bringing your leg over his hip. “Don’t need to be possessive. He doesn’t stand a chance when I’m fucking you.”

“Maybe he does– maybe you need to learn how to share,” you say, your tone twisting with the implication.

Mattias’ eyes flash open and his breath is no longer slow and consistent like it’s reaching for sleep. “What?”

“Maybe,” you repeat, touching your front teeth with the tip of your tongue for the added suspense. You cuddle into Mattias’ chest, your lips barely an inch from his, and continue. “You need to learn how to share.” You pull away and reveal your own smug, braggadocious smile, daring him.

Like you said– Jack had been your class crush first, way before you met Mattias.

“Are you serious?” Mattias asks, incredulous.

“Well, this is casual, isn’t it?” You tease. “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I’d love to see Jack’s face when I make a move on him if he’s so jealous of you, hm?”

Mattias frowns, about to say something, but you cut him off.

You tilt your head coyly and bat your eyelashes at him. “Or… well, nevermind.” You turn over in his arms and press your hips back against his lap.

“Or… what?” Mattias probes, his fingertips dancing across your stomach and the waistband of your panties. “You started that sentence, now you have to finish it. Those are the rules.”

“If you can’t bear to share me with Jack, maybe you should join us,” you say, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly. You’re faking the ease– the idea of having both Jack and Mattias in the same bed lights a fire between your legs unlike anything you’ve experienced before. “Make sure he’s doing it right…?”

You hoped that your words would set him off, knowing that despite his chill demeanor, Mattias is a perfectionist, a competitor, and a possessive partner. He’s bossy and dominant, positively eager to please and he loves to make sure that you’re feeling as content as possible in his bed.

“You want… both of us?” Mattias asks. You can practically hear him narrowing his eyes as he speaks. “Really? Am I not good enough for you?” His question grows teasing at the end, which is how you know he’s considering it.

“You love to rag on him during games,” you drawl, wiggling your hips against him. Mattias releases a groan as you do so, rubbing his fingers over the skin just above your waistband. His other hand sneaks under your body and up your shirt. He tweaks your nipple as means of ‘teaching you a lesson’ for grinding against him, but it only increases your ministrations. “Imagine, Ti, how much fun you’d have, showing him how good you are at making me come.”

The praise always gets him– always. Today is no different. As you roll your behind against his length, you can feel him growing. So, you keep talking.

“At making me whimper, at making me beg…” You lick your lips. “Wouldn’t you like to see me squirm under him, even though I’m moaning your name?”

“Jesus, fuck,” Mattias groans, untangling his arms from your figure and rolling off the bed. You turn to face him, pulling the covers up to your chest and smiling from ear to ear. You can see the bulge in his pants now that your eyes are well-adjusted to the darkness.

“Where are you going?” You ask, choking back a laugh. You’re delighted, but your stomach is rolling with the possibilities that the night holds. You know Mattias is going to get Jack, but you’re always a little bratty and sassy, so you can’t help yourself.

“Be right back,” Mattias promises before opening the bedroom door and slipping through it, disappearing down the hall and leaving you in the bed that smells like him.

In the time he’s gone, you’re at war with yourself– do you take his shirt off and speed things along, playing with your tits to give them a show when they return, or do you leave Mattias’ shirt on and allow Jack to take it off of you?

You decide on a mixture of the two– you push your shirt up just enough that your stomach is exposed. You can get a hand on yourself and you knead one of your breasts, allowing your fingers to tease circles around your nipple but never pinching or twisting it the way Mattias does.

You can hear him down the hall, rapping on Jack’s door and impatiently telling Jack to come to his bedroom. You can hear Jack, confused and frustrated that he has to get out of bed after getting comfortable. He follows Mattias’ directions– of course he does, he acts like Mattias hung the moon– and with each step closer to where you lay, you feel yourself growing damper and damper.

Your legs are spread under the covers, just wide enough that Mattias could climb between them if he chose to do so. It’s the normal position you assume when he leaves you alone. There’s very little that Mattias likes more than seeing you ready for him, inviting him in with your stretched limbs. The edge of the sheet lays just over the expanse of your hips, leaving plenty to be revealed when the boys burst in.

Mattias, ever the gentleman, opens the door for Jack and holds it open for him.

“Why am I–” Jack starts to ask, but then his eyes lock on you. “Oh.” He gawks for a second, allowing himself to enjoy the view, then catches himself. “What– what?” When he repeats himself, he turns to face Mattias, and it makes the taller boy laugh.

“Come on, Twos,” Mattias persuades, stepping through the doorway and passing Jack, who is planted in one spot like he’s rooted in a stone. Mattias clambers onto the bed, uncoordinated because of his size but somehow graceful in the way he settles next to you. He places his hand on your abdomen, pinky and ring finger brushing over the little bow on the front of your panties. He traces it absent-mindedly, staring at the boy who’s surprised and backlit from the hall light. You wish you could see his face better, especially when Mattias continues. “Time to live up to your nickname.”

His words plant a spark inside of you, one that only grows as he dips his fingers even lower. He traces over the wet spot that’s growing between your legs. Jack watches on– you can see his eyes move although you can’t make out the look on his face, and his presence draws a noise out of you. Then, you find your words– even as Mattias makes it harder with more insistent presses.

“Mattias said you never knew when the right time was to make your move,” you announce. “Now’s the time, Jack.”

He’s still rooted there. He even turns toward the door for a second, looking out into the hall like you’re talking to some other Jack that snuck into the house and wanted a threesome.

If you weren’t so desperate, you’d laugh.

“You heard her,” Mattias reinforces, calling Jack’s attention back to the sight in front of him. “Look how wet she is, Jack. She’s wet because she was thinking of you– well, and me, and what we could do with her.”

He’s too proud to attribute your wetness completely to Jack. Whereas you won’t laugh at Jack’s hesitation, you do roll your eyes at Mattias, which is an action that earns you a pinch on your clit. It’s equally as jarring as it is pleasureful and you’re reeling.

Jack’s posture changes in a way that you can’t describe– it’s incredulous, maybe? A little bit like he’s not sure if he’s in a dream, where he’s not sure if he can move or if he’s being tormented by a complete inability to do anything but watch.

He still doesn’t make a move and it’s bothering you– you want to insist and call out his name to get his attention, to make sure he’s not in another realm entirely. You open your mouth, planning to sound sharp and pointed, and as you start to speak, Mattias pets his thumb over your clit. Your glare becomes relaxed and your indignant “Jack” transforms into a wanton-sounding moan of his name.

It’s the complete opposite of what you described to Mattias earlier, but he doesn’t seem to care. Or maybe he’s letting it slide just this once, just because it serves its purpose all too well.

Jack finally takes a step forward. He lifts his foot and tugs at his sock, throwing it across the room, then doing the same with the other. He kicks the door closed behind him, putting you back into darkness and you pray for your eyes to adjust to the change faster. You want to see him. You need to know how his eyes look when he’s inches away from something he hoped for, but never quite received.

You want to see desperation on his face because you want to know that he feels the same way you do. With Mattias, you seldom see desperation. He’s all half-lidded eyes and gravelly words whispered as a means of caressing you further, overwhelming your senses in every way he can. You’re the one pulling at his clothes or scratching over his back, pleading for more.

Lucky for you, once Jack makes it to the edge of the bed, he can’t seem to keep his hands away from you. His fingers circle your ankle over the covers, his other hand pulling his shorts down until he’s just left in his underwear. At that point, he starts to shuffle his way up your body, walking on his knees. He’s straddling you, legs on either side of yours, palms sliding across your thighs, then hips, then waist.

You finally can see the look on his face. He’s memorizing you in a reverent way, like he can’t believe you’re real and he’s getting to touch you. His eyes search your skin for details that he can file away for later, his thumb brushing over a freckle that you had forgotten about as the breath leaves his lungs. He melts above you, the corners of his lips turning up in a giddy smile. He laughs for a moment to himself, barely expelling any air or sound when he does so. Then, his eyes finally meet yours.

His pupils are swollen, bigger than you’ve ever seen them. You hold eye contact for only a moment before Jack’s gaze drifts to your lips, where they stay. Once again, he hesitates. Your own eyes find his lips, plush and parted, glistening like he just licked them. You’re certainly not going to make another first move, having already moaned out Jack’s name without him even touching you– it’s his turn, you stubbornly decide.

But Jack is stubborn too, or maybe just that unsure of himself, because his hands are still the only point of contact between your bodies after what feels like an eternity.

Even Mattias tires of waiting. “For fuck’s sake,” Mattias scoffs. He rolls his eyes and takes his hand away from your panties, touching your chin and turning your head towards his. He kisses you instead of Jack, stealing your lips from the other boy because he can’t be bothered to let them remain untouched. He’s kissed you many times before, so his lips are sure against your own, his confidence making you sigh out and close your eyes.

You touch Mattias’ cheek with your fingertips, one hand still kneading your breast. As the feeling and sound of the kiss overwhelm your senses, Jack’s hands find your stomach. They run up to your ribs, then he nudges your hand aside. You don’t quite get it, lost in the way Mattias’ tongue feels against yours, so Jack covers your hand with his own. He traces the lines of your fingers with his, then settles his digits between the spaces of yours. With his other hand, he has free reign. He’s able to ghost over the smooth skin surrounding your pebbled nipple before touching the protrusion with a gentle flick of his index finger. You chase the motion, breaking away from Mattias’ mouth to look at the place where Jack’s hands lay.

He has exposed your chest now, pushed Mattias’ shirt up so far that it’s bunched up near your collarbones. He’s staring at your breasts like they’re the best thing he’s ever seen, like he’s never seen anything like them before and never will again. He takes your wrist and moves your hand so that it covers your belly button, sufficiently out of the way.

Mattias is still crowding your face with light kisses on your cheek and jaw, index finger tapping at the other side of your chin to call your lips back to his, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Jack’s hands and his mouth as it comes lower, sealing over the peak from which he just removed your fingers. His tongue flicks against the nipple the same way that his finger moves on your opposite side, creating competing sensations that work better together than they ever would apart.

Jack’s movements have you arching into him, your back leaving the bed enough for Mattias’ arm to weasel under you and tug you closer. He’s abandoned your chin, evidently giving up on getting your attention from his simple nudges.

Your usual partner is getting greedy and it shows– he’s petting over your core again with his long, delectable fingers. He shifts the crotch of your panties to the side just a bit, just enough that he can collect a bit of your slick on his middle two fingers. He returns his hand to your face, touching your lips with the wetness before you drop your jaw and he presses down on your tongue.

You suck his fingers greedily, knowing that this is just the first step to having him inside of you. You look to him for a moment, taking in the smile that barely clings to his face. He’s proud of you, praising you with just the glint in his eyes. It’s enough for you in that moment, so you look away– making the mistake of looking down at Jack.

His eyes are wide and piercing, staring up at you as he sucks on your tits. You release a soft moan, spurring him on. He pulls off of you and blows cool air against the wet patch of skin gracing your nipple, making it grow impossibly harder. You shudder as he switches to your other side. He focuses all his attention on drawing another noise out of you, hair falling over his forehead and tickling the skin of your chest where it lays. His eyes are closed, but his hair blocks your view.

Mattias seems to notice the same thing, pulling his fingers from your mouth and threading them through the strands dangling in front of Jack’s forehead to move them out of the way. He grips the hair tightly before he lets go, making Jack’s eyes open and look to him. A beat passes between the men, a look that makes you feel like, for a moment, you cease to exist underneath or beside them.

Then, Jack’s eyes flutter closed again and Mattias’ hand falls. He finds the waistband of your underwear, now soaked to the point that you’re sure they’re clinging to your folds. From this angle, with Jack on top of you, Mattias can’t get a good grip on the band to push the fabric down. You can feel his face contort with his thoughts and Jack is none the wiser, just enjoying his time attached to your nipples.

Mattias taps his shoulder, brows furrowed like he knows what he wants but he’s not sure if he’s overstepping. Jack’s eyes open and find the other man again, completely neutral. There’s an edge of expectancy in his movements with the way his tongue pauses its movements as he stares up at Mattias.

For someone so sure of himself in bed, Mattias sounds apprehensive when he speaks. He’s so used to ordering you around, bossing you because he knows that you’ll do whatever he asks, but Jack is new territory.

“If you like how her nipples taste, you should get your mouth on her cunt,” Mattias seems to suggest, even though you know that he’s not asking Jack to do so. He’s telling him to eat you out, to take your panties off and start to pleasure you.

Ripping a whine from you as he goes, Jack drops your nipple from his mouth and wipes along his bottom lip to break the line of spit connecting you. “You’d let me?” He asks, open-mouthed and breathing like he’s recovering from a run. His eyes are trained on Mattias and a thrill runs up your spine as soon as you realize that he’s asking the other boy for permission. You and Jack are more alike than you knew before.

It seems to click in the same moment for Mattias, who you’ve turned to face. His expression grows grave, even though he’s starting to smirk. “Yeah, I’d let you,” he says.

Jack’s fingers leave your torso and dig under the sides of your underwear, ready to tear them off of you with the fervor of a depraved man.

“But you have to beg,” Mattias adds, just before Jack can drag the fabric low enough to reveal your clit. The words rush out of him and Jack halts.

“Beg?” He asks.

Mattias lets out a little scoff. Your eyes bounce between them, back and forth as they bicker like you’re down in the kitchen making dinner and Jack wants chicken but Mattias wants steak. It’s perfect how easily you three fall into your roles, how simple it is to let your normal behavior leak into your bedroom.

“Yeah, beg,” Mattias affirms. He tilts his head to the side and mocks Jack, sticking his bottom lip out. “Come on, Twosey. You’re such a whiny bitch all the time, why should now be any different? You need to prove to us that you want it.”

“I want it,” Jack insists, pulling back with a knitted, offended brow. “You know I want it.”

“Oh, I know you want it,” Mattias says. “But she only just found out and I think you need to tell her how much you’re dying to be with her.”

As if he needs to remind Jack that you’re there, Mattias shifts on the bed so that you’re on display. His arm, which had been trapped under your waist once Jack’s mouth left your chest and you stopped arching into the smaller boy, pushes you up until you’re sitting. Mattias then sits behind you, his back against the headboard and your back against his bare, warm chest. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder comfortably, your temple meeting his cheek in this motion.

His cock, neglected for minutes upon minutes is achingly hard against your tailbone. You press back even further so the contact is snug– so that Mattias can have a little relief. No ulterior motive… despite the fact that you love to feel him straining against you.

Jack is still straddling your legs, your knees underneath him. He’s hovering above them and you can’t spread your legs to draw him in, a fact that leaves you frowning and humming to yourself. It makes his eyebrows quirk and causes Mattias to splay his hand over your stomach again, rubbing a soft circle on the skin and cooing in your ear.

“Don’t be impatient, baby, he’s still learning,” Mattias says, letting his eyes float back to Jack at the end of his sentence. You know the look that he’s giving Jack, even without seeing it: an impatient cut of the eyes, one raised eyebrow as if it’s a challenge, and he’s pressing his tongue against his teeth to signal that it’s time for Jack to relent or Mattias will have to do something about it himself. “It’s time, Quinn.”

Using his last name– things are getting serious.

Mattias pulls your shirt up, dragging it over your head. The loss of it means a few things– one, that Mattias’ scent is no longer covering you completely. He’s behind you, pressing against you, and you can smell him, but it’s not the same. Two, that you’re naked except for your sopping panties and Jack can see almost everything.

“I wanted him to do that,” you whine, pouting at Mattias. Your head is resting on his shoulder again, farther away this time so that you can look up at him from the side. You’ve got a great view of his nose and the curve of his lips, the curve that only tilts up more as he turns to face you.

Mattias presses a kiss to the corner of your pout and speaks like Jack isn’t there, like he’s not hovering inches from where you want him to be. “He hasn’t earned it, has he?”

The question is rhetorical and it spurs Jack into action. He pulls your panties down and slides off the bed so that he can remove them completely from your body. He holds them between his fingers like they’re a sacred object for which he should use gloves, standing at the edge of the bed. One of his knees rests on the mattress and you get an eyeful of his erection, covered by his underwear, but prominent nonetheless. Having seen it, and having been freed, you’re ready to kick your legs apart and beg him to come back.

Mattias, however, brackets your legs instead and uses his strong thighs to keep yours shut. You make an indignant groan, frowning at the man with a sharp look and he pinches your nipple, tweaking it slightly to put you in your place. You’re his, after all. Jack is just visiting. You’re only a slut for Mattias– Jack has to earn it.

“Go put those and her shirt in the laundry bin in my closet,” Mattias instructs. “Then, Jack, I believe you have some begging to do.”

The boy stands, lost and torn between wanting to preserve his dignity by fighting back against Mattias and wanting to succumb to his dominant commands so that he can get his mouth on you more quickly.

Mattias allows him to think it over for only a moment. “Go on,” he prods, encouraging the boy with a nod.

Jack takes a tentative step toward the closet, then another. He's just far enough away when Mattias returns to you.

He loosens his grip on your legs just slightly, enough that he can dip his hand into the space between your legs and offer you some much needed reprieve. “Look how well he listens with a little nudge,” Mattias murmurs before kissing your temple. “Now you have to be good for me, yeah? When he comes back, don't let him take your pussy so easily. Make him work for it. He’ll like that.”

“How do you know?” You question, looking up at him.

Mattias shrugs, jostling your head with the movement. He skims your entrance with the pad of one of his thick fingers, teasing you. “I just know,” he replies. He pushes his fingertip inside of you, starting to work it in and out but not opening you up– that privilege is something he’s awarding to Jack. “Just like how I know you.”

“Took you a while to get to know me,” you shoot back.

Across the room, Jack is looking in Mattias’ closet and trying to find his hamper. It’s in the back corner, hidden by some of his longer pants, so you’re not surprised that Jack is having trouble. It allows time for Mattias to focus on you, like a normal night, and you like that you get to have a moment alone with him. At the same time, it feels almost unfair that Jack is so far away.

Mattias chuckles at your attitude, his finger curling deep inside of you. You can feel the digit deftly rubbing against your insides, making you squirm. Mattias stills you by bringing his other hand up your body and lightly circling the base of your throat, squeezing it just slightly. “Know how much you like this,” Mattias tells you, whispering in your ear in a way that has goosebumps rising along your neck. “Didn’t take me too long to figure that out.”

Your eyes are forward, so you catch the moment that Jack finally turns around, having completed his task, and catches sight of Mattias’ hand around your throat and fingers between your legs. His mouth opens and his eyes widen, cheeks blushing into a flaming red.

“Good, Jack, c’mere,” Mattias says after a moment, finally lifting his eyes once he notices your distant stare. “Come lay down.”

Jack comes much easier this time, approaching the bed looking befuddled but eager. Mattias continues to pump his finger inside of you, although his hand drops from your throat. It finds your inner thigh and he spreads your legs for you, creating a space for Jack to lay. With one final parting thrust of his finger, Mattias pulls away and spreads your other leg even wider.

You’re fully on display now, folds parted from when Mattias spread them for his own greedy finger. You’re pristinely wet, barely needing Jack’s spit to mix with your own slick. Either of them could slide into you, fill you, without trouble. You almost want Jack to bypass Mattias’ plan and fuck you now, but there’s something about the way that Jack follows Mattias’ orders that makes you want to see how far things can go.

“Look at this pretty pussy,” Mattias goads, as if Jack’s eyes aren’t locked on your vagina already. “You’re so close to tasting it, Jack. All you have to do is convince her that you deserve it.”

Jack’s eyes snap to your face and you can tell that his desire has won out. He has no problem opening his mouth and starting to beg.

“Please,” he pleads. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

He’s dead-set on you now, crawling between your legs and tentatively touching your thigh. His hair is still messy, but it’s charming and out of his face and you kind of like that he’s a mess over how badly he wants to be with you.

“Tell me,” you reply, which earns you a hum of approval from Mattias and a soft pat to your hip. It’s not anything like his pointed spanks and swats, but you treasure it nonetheless. “Tell me what you’ve thought about.”

“It was like torture, having to listen to you down the hall. You sounded so pretty and I wanted to know what Sammy was doing to you to make you so loud. I wanted– I wanted to see,” Jack admits, losing his footing at the end of his sentence. His eyes flicker to Mattias’, then back to your face. “I never thought–”

“Now that you’re here, what are you going to do?” Mattias asks, interrupting the boy. “Tell her what you want to do to her. Tell her the things that you fucked your fist to, Twos.”

“This,” Jack groans, his eyes dropping to your core before coming back to your face. “Every time you moaned for him, I wondered if he was eating you out.”

Truth be told, eating you out wasn’t Mattias’ favorite thing to do. It came with the territory of his dominance– he much preferred to receive than to give, but it was never out of the realm of possibility. It was just a special treat, like when you looked especially beautiful one day or you had done something worth rewarding.

But hearing that it was the first thing on Jack’s mind whenever he overheard you– that has you running through endless scenarios and positions in your mind. With both of them, you’d be able to have everything, sometimes all at once.

Jack talks on. “Know you’d taste so good– wanted to taste you for myself. Practically came in my pants the first time I imagined you sitting on my face, Y/N. Being surrounded by you like that, having your thighs pressed over my ears because it was so good that you couldn’t help it… fuck, I need it. Please, I need it.”

“Not today,” Mattias says before you can nod. “Today, you have to do the work, buddy.”

Jack nods at that anyway, eyes gleaming and wild. “Anything– I just want a taste.”

Mattias nudges you, tapping your cheek with his nose. “Well?” He asks. “Can Jack have a taste?”

“Yeah,” you agree, eager and willing but unable to form any other words.

Like a stopwatch just began and Jack is finally on the clock, he jumps in. He’s laying flat on the bed between your legs, fingers already prodding at your hole while Mattias holds your legs apart for him.

Mattias is kissing over your neck, sucking over the pulse point on your left side when Jack’s lips close around your clit and mirror the sensation.

You’re not sure who to press into, who to arch against– you’re at war with your own mind and the sensations overtaking you, the ones overtaking you and controlling your movements like a puppeteer tied strings to your body.

Jack has his first two fingers inside of you, thrusting forward quickly like he can’t help himself. Mattias prefers to savor the moment when he’s fingering you, teasing you until you’re grinding against his digits and disobeying his orders to stay still because it’s just that good. While Mattias delays your orgasms in order to make the ultimate one more intense, Jack seems like he wants to bully your erogenous zones until you’re coming, and coming, and coming again. He wants you to come fast and he wants it often.

It’s a mindfuck, leaving you shaking underneath him as he flicks his tongue against your clit like a doorstopper pulled all the way to one side then released, vibrating back and forth like a metronome set to a rapid pace. You feel like you’re in a scene in a movie where you’re falling down a black hole and all you can hear is the pounding of your heart, growing more and more rapid.

Breaking the spiral is Mattias’ voice.

“No, Jack,” he says with a frown. One of his hands leaves your tits, the cool air hitting your sensitive nipples like a flinch. He grabs Jack’s hair, grips it so tightly that his knuckles seem to turn white– or maybe you’re just imagining things in your lustful haze– and he drags the boy’s mouth to a stop. “Slower. Don’t waste your only chance.”

You blink, clearing your clouded eyes to protest the “only chance” thing, but you lose your breath when you catch sight of the way Jack’s mouth hangs open with each tug of Mattias’ hand. Mattias practically shoves Jack’s face against your cunt, his tongue sliding over your folds and entrance like he’s lost control of the muscle. You wonder for a second if he’s hurting, but then Jack moans as Mattias positions his mouth over your clit and he latches on like the bud is the tip of a straw and he’s dying of thirst.

His eyes flutter, as do yours, and you know Mattias is grinning. Jack is like putty in his hands, moving wherever Mattias wants him to go. You’re suddenly aware that your hands are at your sides lamely, doing nothing at all, and you reach for Jack’s hair too like a natural instinct.

“Ah,” Mattias reprimands, dropping his grasp on your other tit and catching your wrists. “No touching, baby. Just sit back and relax and take what we’re giving you.” He holds both your wrists securely in his hands, keeping them still against your ribcage. He’s still pulling Jack’s hair, grinding his face against your slit, and it’s really Jack’s willingness to move wherever Mattias wants him that has you moaning.

It’s impossible not to grind against Jack’s face, though Mattias makes it hard for you to take charge of your own pleasure.

Nonetheless, you persist. The sounds that emit from Jack spur you on. They’re messy and pornographic, all kinds of sucking and groaning and slurping that would normally turn you off, but his desperation drives you crazy.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach that point, jaw dropping at the penultimate moment. Your head tips back on Mattias’ shoulder, eyes seeking his and finding them already fixed on your face, monitoring you.

“Gonna come,” you choke out, staring at the boy. “Ti–”

“You can,” he says. “He’s been waiting for you to come all over his tongue for months. Go ahead and give him his reward for being so patient, yeah?”

You feel shaky and spent as your first orgasm washes over you, noting in a passing moment that there’s so much more in store for you. There’s at least two or three more coming because Mattias seems to have endless faith in you and infinite ideas, able to do much more now that he has a partner to assist him in his ministrations.

Rather, he has someone else to boss around.

You collapse against Mattias’ strong chest, heaving out heavy breaths as Jack laps up your cum like it’s the best delicacy in the world. He’s languid, conscious of your recovery, and Mattias loosens his grip on the boy’s hair to soothe you as you come down. He pulls your hair out of your face, twisting the strands between his fingers. He speaks softly into your ear, murmuring things that you can’t really decipher because of the force of your climax, but his soothing tone calms you nonetheless.

Once your breath is steady, Mattias beckons Jack up from his place on the bed.

“Think you’ve earned a kiss,” Mattias says to Jack with a small shrug. He taps your shoulder with his thumb. “What do you say? Wanna give Twos a little kiss for all his hard work?”

You’re nodding, eyes lidded. Jack’s face is flushed and his lips are covered in clear, liquidy mess that drips down onto his chin. He’s absolutely gorgeous and you just want to pull him in and snuggle him forever, putting him in your pocket and carrying him around so that you don’t have to part with him.

He’s got that stupid look on his face still, but it’s different this time, like he’s growing cloudy in the head because he’s drunk off of the taste of your pussy and Mattias’ direction. He doesn’t hesitate anymore, but he moves slowly, as if time is passing differently for him.

Your first kiss with Jack is sweet, a joining of lips where you place a hand on Jack’s cheek and feel him underneath your palm. He’s hot and a little sweaty from the heat of the moment. The room is stifling with the smell of your arousal, but it could just be like that because you can taste yourself on Jack’s skin. You’re drinking him in all the same, keeping him close even as your lips part for a breath and come back together.

Mattias grinds his clothed cock against your backside while Jack kisses you, making you part from the smaller boy with a small gasp. Mattias turns your head to his, capturing your tingling lips in a more heated exchange, making all of your neurons fire in the best way. He slides his tongue into your mouth, then pulls back, leaving you boneless against him.

You watch as Mattias and Jack look at each other for a moment too long. Mattias lets his signature smile overtake his face, then he winks at the smaller boy. Jack turns red and looks away.

The hard length against your tailbone catches your attention. You grind back against him, capturing Mattias’ attention.

“Aww, baby,” Mattias mutters softly. “Did you think I was feeling left out?”

“Can feel how hard you are,” you reply. “Wanna make you come.”

“You wanna make me come,” Mattias repeats, lips quirked. “How about I give you something to occupy your mouth with, huh?”

You’re nodding, already shifting on his lap to turn your back to Jack and bend down to mouth over Mattias’ boxers. His big paw covers your hair, bundling your locks on the back of your head in a messy knot.

“So needy,” he berates, sounding like he’s scolding you although you know he’s pleased. “Can’t even give me time to take my pants off?”

Your knees are bent underneath you, spread wide enough that you can rock forwards and backwards easily. You’re conscious of Jack behind you, especially when you look up at Mattias and find that he’s staring past you.

“You can touch her,” Mattias says to the other boy. “Look how she’s presented right in front of you. Touch her, Jack. Give her another one.”

You’re still mouthing over Mattias’ clothed cock, sucking at the tip through the fabric and soaking it with your spit. He’s guiding you with his hand, pushing you lower until you’re licking over the curve of his balls, your nose tucked into the space where his thigh meets his groin. It should feel humiliating, to be forced to stay here and bring him pleasure, but you’re still reeling from the high of your orgasm and you’re unabashed knowing that your only audience is Mattias– who is a nonissue given how many times he’s fucked your face– and Jack, who is currently tracing his tongue over your slit from behind.

“Okay,” Mattias relents, patting the top of your head until you pull away. He draws his boxers down his legs and you moan, sagging back down when Jack’s finger finds your hole and starts to press into you again.

He’s bare beneath you now, the only scrap of clothing shared between the three of you being Jack’s boxers. It’s another reason why he’s the third wheel, the odd one out, even though you’d rather die than have him feel that way. You hope that he’s not thinking that, that he’s too preoccupied with your pussy and how the wetness drips down his wrist to wonder about the dynamic of this relationship.

“Twos,” Mattias calls, earning a hum from the other boy. Mattias occupies you with his cock, bringing your mouth to his tip and fitting your lips over it. You’re lax beneath him, allowing him to move your head up and down for his own pleasure. You let him use you as a toy, almost, unwilling to draw attention to yourself when Mattias is speaking with Jack.

“What?” Jack asks, his tone not as respectful as you’re accustomed to speaking with when it comes to Mattias. You make a noise of discontent around Mattias’ cock at Jack’s question, but Mattias pets over your cheek to quiet you.

“If you make her come before I do, I’ll let you fuck her,” Mattias says. “But you ought to know– she’s good with her mouth.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, he sets off, fisting your hair and using it like reins to guide your bobbing. He tilts his hips forward even as he lifts and lowers your head, battering and abusing the back of your throat once he thrusts deep enough.

Jack has pushed a second finger into your heat, pushing you closer to your second orgasm of the night. He’s desperate to make you come a second time, to drag another climax from your writhing body, just so that he can get some release on his cock. You know that it’s aching, that he’s pulsing in his shorts and dripping everywhere, so turned on that he can only just stave off his own orgasm.

His fingers flex inside of you, curling and plunging inside of you with emphatic zeal. Mattias fills you from the front, your spit pooling around the base of his cock. He shoves you down, making you gag around him, your throat constricting in a satisfactory way around his thick shaft. He shakes your head, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his pubic bone as you deepthroat him.

“You close?” Mattias asks, pointedly looking down at you. He waits until you meet his eyes to draw out and thrust into your mouth again, harsh and delectable. A batch of tears start to appear on your waterline from the effort and they spill over as you stare up at Mattias, his glowering eyes locked on the way you’re dripping around him. If it’s not your spit leaking from your mouth, it’s the drops leaking from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks– and Mattias finds it impossible not to fuck into you harder seeing both of your reactions to his dick.

You hum around him, trying to nod to answer him, but the hand on the back of your head will not allow it. The added vibrations on his dick have him chasing the pleasure.

“Keep doing that,” Mattias groans. “Let me feel you moan, baby.”

The floodgates open, Mattias’ permission and Jack’s talented fingers pulling noise after noise from your body. You grip Jack’s fingers, rolling your hips as best you can while struggling to fit Mattias’ length in your mouth. You’re gagging as you breathe, which leaves your noises choked and beautiful when they fall on Mattias’ ears.

You’re just about to come, just about to wash Jack’s fingers with your slick, when Mattias’ seed spills down the back of your throat and all your focus shifts to lapping it up and swallowing it. Irrationally, you can feel his hot cum sliding down your throat and settling in your stomach, filling you up in your second-favorite way.

“Pull out,” Mattias commands, grinding his teeth as you continue to worship his cock. You ignore him because you know his words aren’t directed at you. “Jack. Pull out. You lost.”

“I want to make her come,” Jack insists, talking back to Mattias in a tone that has you writhing with discomfort.

“Pull out,” Mattias repeats, voice dark. “Or you’re never touching her again.”

Jack stills inside you.

“I mean it,” Mattias continues. “Pull out or I will make sure that you never touch her again.”

Jack draws his fingers out, speechless as Mattias monitors his movements. You watch as Mattias nods, the only sign of his approval, expression stony. He draws you up, kissing your forehead with his eyes still fixed on Jack’s. It’s a fuck you, once again flaunting his dominance over Jack. Mattias makes his way out from behind you, standing from the bed and grabbing you by your ankles to tug you to the edge of the bed.

He bends you over, glowering at the smaller boy who is watching his every move. He pushes your face into the mattress roughly, then releases you. You clench at the bedsheets. Mattias kicks your legs apart, dropping a loud slap onto the globes of your ass as he glares at Jack.

Then, he points to the headboard, far away from where you lay. You can just barely see his finger when you look up, eyes straining to catch him in your peripheral vision. “You, there,” Mattias orders. To you, he says, “You. Stay.”

You wouldn’t even dare disobey him as his warmth leaves the area behind you. Your skin still stings from his spank, your legs a little shaky from being so close to orgasm and having it ripped away. You feel like you could set off at any moment, only seconds from bursting.

You can hear Mattias moving, opening his closet and rifling through something. A thrill shoots up your spine, praying that he’s searching for what you think he’s searching for– a shoebox filled with condoms, ones that you stopped using ages ago, and your spare vibrator that Mattias took as his own.

It won’t be the first time he’s used it on you, but the fact that Jack will be watching– oh, this will be quick.

Mattias returns, silently, and you feel a bit like prey drinking from a watering hole with a lion stalking you. His hand finds you, smoothing over your skin. The other holds the silicon toy against your skin, tapping you. He slides his fingers down to dip into your cunt, testing how open you are. He hums and you can’t see him, but you can see Jack.

You can see how Jack pales, how his dick twitches in his underwear when Mattias draws his fingers out and hums as he slurps at the slick gathered on his digits.

“Mm,” Mattias says. “So sweet.”

Jack rolls his head to the side with a slight frown on his face, pleading with his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Mattias chastises. “Take your punishment like a good boy.”

That makes you moan, hearing Mattias speak to Jack the same way that he speaks to you. It makes him chuckle and tap your hip. You lift up, baring yourself, and Mattias fills you with the toy before he turns it on. It buzzes to life and prompts a quiet yelp before you bury your face into the mattress.

Mattias places his hand on the edge of the toy and starts to move it inside of you. The vibrating tip buzzes in increments inside of you, out of time with Mattias’ manual thrusts in another sensation that has you unsure if you should lean into it or try to escape it. The small ridge that slides over your clit buzzes constantly– inclining you to lean into the toy.

Your hips rise and fall in wonky little circles, trying to meet Mattias’ movements as they go, but you’re always half a second behind.

“Ti,” You plead, begging for more contact.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes flicker between your hole and Jack’s frozen expression. He licks his lips as the bright toy disappears into you as you writhe. He tilts his head when he catches Jack’s hand palming his own cock.

Mattias considers it, then speaks. “Wanna hear me talk Twosey off, baby?” He asks you. “Will that get you far enough?”

“Ti,” you repeat, shaking underneath him. Your voice breaks a little as your body jerks.

“One more, Y/N,” Mattias encourages, his hand pumping between your legs consistently. “One more, he repeats, drawing the word out like the words can draw the orgasm out of you on their own. “Need you to give me something pretty for Jack to look at while he milks himself dry.”

Mattias smiles at the boy, devilish. Jack gulps, swallowing hard.

“Let me see it,” Mattias urges. “Show me how hard my girl makes you. Show me how bad you wanted this, even though it’s mine.”

You cry out under Mattias, stomping against the ground. You need him to stop talking like this because you swear you could die right in this moment.

Jack feels similarly, whimpering and inching his underpants down his thighs. He’s got a hand on his cock, squeezing the base to hold off. He can’t seem to decide where to look– at you or at Mattias– at the way Mattias’ hands flex when he pushes the toy into you or at the way your eyes gaze at Jack with pure admiration.

“Maybe give my girl something pretty to look at, Jack,” Mattias suggests. “Maybe that’s what’ll send her over the edge.”

“Fuck–” Jack curses, his head falling back when he slides his thumb over his tip.

The dynamic seems to fit into place immediately. Whereas Jack assumed it would be like a love triangle, with him and Mattias vying for your attention, he realizes now that you’re all vying for each others’ attention.

He looks at Mattias, Mattias looks at you, and you look at Jack. It reverses and turns on its head and pulses like a 3D movie without glasses. He’s so overwhelmed that he feels like he’s seeing shapes as he comes all over his hand, unable to handle the stimulation.

Mattias chuckles, proud of himself, and refocuses on your body and the toy inside you. He switches to the next setting, a quick and never ending buzz inside of you. You fuck back on the toy desperately, finally catching his rhythm. You can’t take any more denial and you stammer out a high-pitched warning to Mattias.

He leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder.

You come, hard. Your vision goes white and starry with the orgasm.

Mattias walks you through it, murmuring softly as he grounds you with his sweet kisses on your skin. “Go get a towel, Jack,” Mattias mutters, reaching up to pat the boy’s ankle in a sign of invitation. “Come help me clean her up. Then we can go to bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“We– we don’t have to talk about it,” Jack stammers, afraid of what that means. He can’t risk not being invited back into this bed now that he’s had a taste.

“Don’t worry.” Mattias reaches over and squeezes Jack’s cheeks between his fingers, giving his head a little shake. “We’re going to do this again, Twos. You did really good.”

Jack lets out a sigh of relief and goes to grab a towel from down the hall, leaving you and Mattias alone.

He kisses your eyelids, which are drifting closed as you come back completely. “So good, Ti,” you echo. “Perfect.”

Mattias chuckles, kissing your lips sweetly. “Anything for my girl.”

notes: first threesome in the books! also it's my sister's bday. hi sister. i hope she never reads this. also also: stg chapter 6 will be my next release (hopefully!) so i'll see y'all then <3

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water-loos · 6 months ago

Text

All American Bitch !

“I’ve got sun in my motherfucking pocket, best believe”

player!steve harrington x fem!reader

series masterlist ; next chapter

cw: college au, alcohol consumption, tipsy sexual acts, smut implied (fade to black), angst, swearing, steve’s a dick

wc: 3.5k

a/n: this is a very shitty first installment but i promise it’ll make sense eventually

You didn’t plan on going to any Halloween parties. You never did. You thought the holiday was stupid, and just an excuse to drop way too much money on multiple costumes that only covered about a third of your body.

But that little lacy white slip dress that you found in the racks of a thrift store last weekend fit you too perfectly.

And the angel wings that you used for a photo shoot in May had been sitting lonely in your closet for far too long.

And you did consider Romeo + Juliet to be your favorite movie of all time.

That’s how you found yourself climbing the steps of a brownstone just north of Chicago, your hair tied back into a pretty half-up-half-down hairdo. Your makeup was flawless, even with your pink cheeks due to the biting wind and the plethora of shots that your friends had fed you before the train ride up from the city. The party itself was pretty packed just inside the door, with a box TV playing Scream as people mingled right in front of the screen. You pushed your way through the mass of people into the dining room, where a pair of plastic tables with holes sawed in them for cups were manned by tens of people in various costumes.

You craned your neck to look for a way to the kitchen, which was down a long hallway that was probably the only open portion of the house. Your friend Alexandra trailed behind you, eyeing the pong table as you attempted to drag her with you.

“Do you just want me to get you a drink?” You sighed as she nearly got caught in the crowd once more. “You don’t have to come with if you don’t want to.”

“Can I stay? That guy in the Risky Business costume seems a little lonely at the table if you know what I mean,” She winked, squeezing your hand. You rolled your eyes and squeezed back, letting her go. She kissed your cheek joyfully before bouncing over to him, her fairy wings sparkling almost as much as the tinsel in her hair.

As soon as she bounded away, you turned on your heel to the hallway, pushing past a few couples that were making out against the wall to get into the tiny kitchen. The keg took up a decent amount of space in the corner, a stack of red solo cups perched on the windowsill next to it. The thought of putting beer anywhere near your body was enough to make you gag, so you pivoted to the corner, where a punch bowl, a bottle of Captain Morgan, and some more solo cups lay, glittery green liquid splashed everywhere.

Beer, or mystery punch.

Great.

You opted for a heavy pour of the white rum and two ladles of the green punch before you pushed your way back into the hallway, but took a sharp right toward the staircase and the basement, where the dance floor must have been.

That’s where you saw him.

Steve Harrington, hair perfectly coiffed and cheetah print vest hanging open over his too-tight white tee. You knew who he was— he was notorious across most of the Chicago colleges and universities, known for his looks and his kilowatt smile. You shared a few classes and tended to think he was an egotistical douchebag who didn’t know what he was talking about half the time.

But god did his arms look good enough to bite in that shirt.

One big gulp of the drink in your hand was enough to push you toward him, chin held high in the air as you sauntered in his direction, catching him just as the girl he was talking to walked off in search of another drink.

“Ferris Bueller,” You said, voice dipped in faux sugar. “How fitting, Harrington.”

“Juliet,” He immediately smiled down at you, his shoulder falling to rest on the wall beside the two of you. “To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of seeing you? I thought you weren’t really into Halloween.”

“I’m not normally,” You nodded, maintaining eye contact over your cup as you turned to let your back rest on the wall. “But this costume was just too cute to leave hanging in my closet, don’t you think?”

You watched with a smug smile as his eyes raked down your body, slowly taking you in. You could see his gaze catch on the body glitter you had applied along your chest and shoulders, a warm blush spreading across your cheeks as he hummed his approval. “Definitely. It’s a shame, though.”

You watched as he flicked your left wing, caging you against the wall. Unfazed, you looked up at him with doe eyes, lashes fluttering. “What’s a shame, Stevie?”

You watched his front crumble, a rosy blush spreading over his freckled cheeks. He was put under your spell way too easily, and you could almost feel his ego bruising as he gathered himself from the momentary pause. “It’s a shame that it’d look about ten times better on my bedroom floor.”

You were moving a little fast, but your impulse control was left back in your apartment, miles away. It’s almost like your body was moving quicker than your brain was. Your hand smoothed up the front of his vest, adjusting it against his tee. “D’you think about my clothes on your floor often, Stevie? I’m flattered.”

“More than you know, sweetheart,” He huffed, standing up straight and taking your free hand in his. “Let’s find somewhere more private, yeah?”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager,” You pouted, pounding back the rest of your drink, gracefully putting the cup down on the ground beside you. “You’ve gotta dance with me first, Harrington.”

You kept your fingers intertwined as you pulled him down the stairs and toward the dance floor, which was packed wall to wall with dancing people, with colorful strobe lights flashing across the room. You watched the boy chug the last of his beer and toss the crushed cup behind him, his body not far behind yours as you made your way to the center of the floor. The electric beat of a techno song that you couldn’t name bleated around you as you began to sway back and forth, eyes on the boy who had followed you. He looked downright delectable in this lighting— his skin almost glistened under the lights, his hair slightly tousled, and his chest heaving as he watched you.

You two didn’t last long on the dance floor.

Only two or three songs passed before you were tugged down the back hallway of the basement and pressed against the door of the hidden bathroom in the corner. Steve wasted almost no time in connecting your lips, the lingering taste of beer bitter on his tongue as it danced with your own. Your hands wandered across his shoulders and up to the curled ends at the back of his hair, tugging gently as he moaned softly into this kiss. His hands held one of your legs up around his hip while the other pushed at your lower back, leaving very little space between the two of you. Your head lolled against the wood behind you as his kisses trailed down your exposed neck, nipping soon-to-be lavender bruises down across the glittery skin.

“You know,” He huffed into your neck, gripping the soft skin of your hip. “Been waiting for you since you destroyed me in our debate project.”

“Oh I know, baby,” You breathed out a laugh as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “D’you get off to that? Being shown up in front of everyone?”

He bit down harder then, enticing a squeal out of you. “Only when it’s you.”

You try not to scoff as he pulls back, watching your face. It’s evident that you don’t believe him, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

You hum, tilting your head back up for another kiss as your hand trailed across the sliver of skin that peeked out between his white tee and his dark blue jeans. “You promise?”

His throat bobbed and his cheeks grew pink as he watched your hand dip lower and lower, fingertips ghosting over the obvious bulge in his pants. “Promise. On my life, sweetheart.”

You’d never seen Steve Harrington a nervous mess before, but you decided right then and there that it was your favorite version of him. It was easy to nudge him a little further into the room so his hips hit the counter of the vanity, and even easier to drop to your knees in front of him. He sighed at the sight of you, with big doe eyes and angel wings, staring up at him with your best innocent look.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands placed on the front of his thighs, waiting for his verbal confirmation. You watched as his chest heaved, and he nodded, but you shook your head. “Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” A hand, big against your face, came to cradle your cheek, his eyes dilated as he stared down at you. “Are you sure? You don’t have to…”

“I wouldn’t be on my knees if I didn’t want to, Stevie,” You snorted, one hand reaching up to pop the button of his jeans and slowly pull down the zipper. “Pinky swear.”

———————

You started seeing Steve around a lot more after that weekend. By mid-January, he suddenly had more friends in your apartment complex, he sat right beside you in all three of the classes you shared this semester, and he had taken it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment or the student center after every single one. Alexandra started to call him your shadow, and she had even started keeping a six-pack of Miller High Life’s in the fridge for him, just so he’d have something to drink and every pregame party your friends threw.

He spent most nights in your bedroom, actually.

He snuck in as soon as you heard Alex close her bedroom door and put on her LED lights, and he knew the code to get into your building by heart. He knew that your door squeaked, and he mastered exactly how to open it to make the least amount of noise. Most of the time he found you in bed, glasses and an oversized hoodie on, scrolling on your phone as you waited for him. Some nights, he’d crawl in beside you and ask you about your day, maybe he’d joke with you about how stupid your teacher was, or how he thought you did great on a presentation, and others he’d waste almost no time in pulling your phone from your hand and pinning you to your mattress.

Tonight had been the latter.

Most of the time it made you feel like shit when there was barely any greeting, even if he tried to make it up to you by taking you for a drive in his car. “Taking you for a drive” consisted of buying you a milkshake, asking you all of your deepest secrets, and then eating you out in the backseat of that goddamn maroon BMW. But, after months of the same thing, you felt like a milkshake was better than nothing.

You laid across the backseat, warm and almost cuddling into the hoodie you had stolen from him last week, and nothing covering your legs besides the panties he had so gently put back on your body. God forbid you made a mess of his leather seats. He was sitting on the end, hands tracing your face as you tried to steady your breathing and recover.

“Y’know, we should go to the library to study for that quiz this week,” He said, voice gravelly. “I’m a little worried with how little she’s preparing us.”

“Ooh, a location change,” You hummed, sarcasm whispering in your tone. “I‘ll go. When do you want to?”

His hand stilled. “What do you mean?”

Your chest tightened. “It’s a joke, Stevie. We just haven’t been to the library together before.”

He let his head lean back on his headrest, his face stilling. “You know that I don’t mean anything bad by that, right?”

“What, that we don’t really go anywhere together?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Oh, I don’t care,” You shrugged, lying through your teeth. “I like what we do together now. It’s like a nightly routine. Helps me sleep better.”

He chuckled and started to trace around your hairline again. “Really?”

“Yeah. Having my own personal radiator in my freezing apartment is heaven.”

He snorted, softly whacking your shoulder. “I’m not that hot.”

“Half of the student body would disagree with you.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.”

“Steve. Lying is not going to get you anywhere,” You sat up, scooting closer to face him. “I think you might want to look in a mirror. Besides, everyone knowing you’re hot doesn’t really bother me.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would it?”

You stop, taken aback. “I mean, I’m the one whose bed you’re in almost every night. Everyone else who drools over you doesn’t get that honor.”

Steve goes rigid, and you can tell something’s bothering him. You can tell by the way he refuses to make eye contact with you that whatever he’s thinking is not going to be very nice to you.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Just say it.”

“What?”

You reach onto the floor in front of you and slide on the sweatpants you had been wearing. You set your jaw and dare to look in his direction. “Say the thing you’re thinking about. Even if it’s going to make me upset. I’d rather you be upfront than sit here in silence, Steve.”

“We’re not together.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t talk about us like we are.”

Your chest squeezes.

“I don’t.”

“You literally just did.”

“Saying you’re in my bed every night doesn’t mean shit, Steve,” You scoff, grabbing the Converse you had haphazardly shoved on your feet on the way out and pulling them on. “I was just stating the truth. You’re the one who texts me for our nightly booty call, remember?”

“And you always answer. C’mon, sweetheart,” He almost whines, reaching over to turn you back toward him. “You’re not a booty call. You never have been.”

“Then what am I, Steve? Your friend?” You bite back, pulling your arm from his gentle grasp.

“No. You’re not just a friend, you know that,” He says, watching mournfully as you open the back door and step out of the car. Your cheeks are still warm from the orgasm he’d pulled from you almost twenty minutes ago.

“Yeah, I’m your fuck buddy who’s at your every beck and call. I know what I am, Steve,” You scoff and close the door behind you as he quickly pops out of the opposite side. Your hand pulls on the passenger side, opening it, but still addressing him over the car. “I’m not fucking stupid, in case you’ve already forgotten.”

“When you say it like that it sounds bad.”

“Steve, you literally have done nothing tonight but walk into my room, fuck me, buy me a consolation milkshake, and then fuck me again in your car. You don’t even know anything about me,” You snap, hand white-knuckle gripping the door. “What’s my favorite color? What’s my favorite food? The cat that curls at your feet every night, what’s her name?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked down at his feet.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” You say lowly and duck into the car, almost slamming the door behind you. He follows after a few moments, getting into the car slowly and quietly. “Take me home. Please.”

“Babe—“

“Don’t.”

He doesn’t argue as he starts the car and pulls out of the heavily wooded parking lot that you always went to. The drive was only fifteen minutes, but it was spent in excruciating silence as you quietly picked at the clear compartment of your wallet, attempting to remove your ID in order to get the Polaroid that lived behind it out. It was a sweet picture of you and Steve at your birthday party back in November, where you had been wearing matching sunglasses and had been looking at each other and laughing. It was your favorite picture ever taken, and he had said it was his too.

Once you pulled up to your apartment, you were quick to open the door and stand outside of the doorway. You dropped the Polaroid onto the seat and reached to grab the edge of his hoodie.

You were done.

You pulled off the yellow hoodie, his cologne dripping from the threads as you dropped it on the seat. You were freezing in the flimsy tank you had been wearing underneath, but you tried not to let it bother you as you slammed the door and finally walked away.

You didn’t hear him call after you, even as you slowly punched in the code. He had driven off before you stepped through the threshold.

You were crying by the time you made it into your actual apartment, the door still unlocked from earlier. You locked the door for the first time in months and practically stomped into your room, the door squeaking loudly behind you as you shut it. It was easy to flop into bed, and even easier to sob harder when you smelled him all over your comforter.

You wallowed for all of five minutes before Alex came in, teary-eyed from sleep, but with a knowing look on her face.

“Did you finally end it?”

You sniffled.

“Aw, babe,” She tutted and laid beside you in bed, reaching over to rub your shoulder. “It’ll be okay. He’s just a man.”

“I just don’t get how all of this time means nothing to him. Nothing! He’s here almost every night and he can’t even tell me what I am to him.”

“It’s just what he does. He’s known for being a whore, and that’s exactly what he is— a whore.”

“A whore who’s been leading me on for almost three months,” You replied pathetically, putting your hands over your face as you cried harder. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re literally the smartest, kindest, and most fun person I know. The fact that he can’t see that has nothing to do with you— it has to do with the fact that he’s just not a good person,” Alex defended, climbing off the bed to pull you to your feet. “You’re a great person, and everyone you’ve ever met loves you. You’re gorgeous, fun, and hilarious. He’s going to come crawling back on his hands and fucking knees, babe.”

You sadly smile at her, and wipe the tears from your face. “Thank you, Alex. I don’t think you’re right about the last part, but I’ll try to believe you about the rest.”

“We’ll make him regret he ever treated you like this. I promise.”

You and she linked pinkies, kissing the other end of your hands as you did so.

“I’ll make sure he regrets it. He deserves to feel just as shitty as I do right now.”

“Damn straight!”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #player!steve harrington #situationships #fanfiction #stranger things #my work!#explore

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