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#he looks like a jock for sure
zappedbyzabka · 9 months
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Why would they not give THIS to us???
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Blurry extras (That jacket with the wine <3)
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years
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Fred Jones - All American Rich Boy!
#I do NOT like modern interpretations of Fred as the 'dumb jock' archetype#I /know/ that Daphne is canonically the richest but I don't like that either - maybe its my 2020 vision but Fred LOOKS the preppiest/richest#Daphne does not read as rich to me#Fred has money to buy materials for all his traps and to get very into something so obscure#his dad thought maybe it'd make him get into hunting but no....no hunting for Freddy boy - just catching no-gooders#Fred is the leader and he's not cool at all (Daphne is cool)#but he CARES!!#Fred is the only member of the gang who'd never say fuck and he pretends he doesn't think its shocking when they do but he does#Fred's personality has no modern equivalent to me he is firmly just what 50's adults thought a Good Kid was like and people think he is VERY#weird and don't like him because of it (except for adults and old ladies and stray animals and babies)#He's not bragging in that speech bubble btw he's explaining why it's fine that the mystery machine broke down (bc Velma's freaking out about#how to pay him back for it and what his dad's gonna think)#Fred: Dad can I borrow that old van?#His Dad: Sure son! Sooo...you got anyone in particular you're taking for a ride~?#Fred: (not picking up on the machoman vibes but thinks he is) A few someones in fact~!#His Dad: THAT'S my boy! -thumps his back-#Fred Jones#Fred Jones art#scooby doo#scooby doo art#little known fact about me is that I love the original scooby doo and that's all#I love you bad animation I love you muted color palette I love you disconcerting laugh track#Also out of all of them Shaggy is the jock - he's a runner he's a track star
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tteokdoroki · 2 months
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࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #10. babies, lots of ‘em.
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about. the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future. ( 2.5K )
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst if you squint, characters aged up to 20s, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum play, praise, jock bf!yuuji, weird girl + fem!reader - the brain rot continues !! inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics recent yuuji thirsting hehe <3
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“‘mma give you babies… lots of ‘em,” yuuji slurs, his hips ramming into yours at a bruising, unprecedented pace. 
beneath your shaky fingertips, the muscles of your boyfriend’s back ripple with his movements — his strength as he uses the headboard for leverage to fuck into your sloppy, sweltering heat of your sex. you’re flat on your back, his heavy and weighty body hanging over yours protectively while itadori traps you between the blazing heat in his chest and the sweaty bed sheets below. whenever yuuji gets in the mood like this, possessive and hungry for you ( and nobody else but you ), in the mood to keep you all to himself — you can’t help but succumb to each one of his touches and wet kisses. 
you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 
in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.
“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.
“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 
just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 
with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.
by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.
“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.
yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.
tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   
“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  
“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 
your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 
“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.
effectively breeding you. 
still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 
your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 
“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”
“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 
giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 
“what’s so funny?” 
“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 
“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 
your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 
“i’d get bored of you?” 
yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 
a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 
“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 
shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 
itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 
“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”
yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.
“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 
“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 
“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 
“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”
and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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unkreativstermensch · 7 months
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"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
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m00npiez · 8 months
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Modern Steddie AU
“Oh she’s cute.” Robin points over to a table near the bar.
Steve follows her finger and the blonde in the pink pleated skirt is, in fact, very cute. “You should go talk to her.”
Robin gives him a look, “Literally everything about her screams ‘straight’ so no thanks,” she takes a sip of her cocktail, “Don’t feel like getting humiliated today.”
Steve rolls his eyes, “I doubt she’d humiliate you but suit yourself.” He stands and fluffs up his hair a little, “If you won’t, I sure as hell will.”
Before his friend can protest, Steve’s strutting over to the girl’s table. She looks up at him when he stops and leans slightly against the chair opposite from hers.
“Hi!” she greets before he can say anything. Her whole face lights up as she smiles. She’s definitely cute, but not exactly what Steve had in mind for the night.
“Hey,” Steve flashes his own smile, “I was just telling my friend how cute you are and wanted to know if I could maybe buy you a drink?”
Her face goes pink, but her smile falters slightly and a small frown forms. “Oh that’s so nice of you, but I’m actually a lesbian,” she seems genuinely upset at having to break this news to him. “I’m really sorry, you seem lovely.”
Steve’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile remains, “Oh, god, sorry I should have asked,” he laughs, “That’s totally my bad.”
She shakes her head and leans forward in her seat, “Not at all, sweetheart!” there’s a slight southern accent slipping through and her smile is back. “You couldn’t have known, I know I don’t exactly look the part.”
“Well, since I’m already here,” Steve smirks, glancing over his shoulder to where he can see Robin watching the scene unfold. Her eyes snap away once she realizes he’s looking at her. “My friend over there is single and also extremely gay.”
Chrissy looks over and her smile turns coy, “Now she’s cute,” her eyes snap back to Steve. “She’s the one who told you to come over?”
“The opposite, actually. She thought you were straight so, I came over instead.” Steve explains.
Chrissy nods, glances over her shoulder and then stands. “Well, I’ll just have to go over there then.”
Steve smiles, “I’m Steve, by the way.”
“Chrissy.” The blonde extends her hand and Steve shakes it. “Thank you for letting me know the girl I’ve been eyeing is queer.”
Steve gives her a two-finger salute and goes to walk away, but she grabs his wrist to stop him.
“Do you like men, by any chance?” Chrissy asks, her smile alluding to something.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve laughs.
She gives him a once-over, “The tight shirt sort of gave you away.”
“Fair enough. Why do you ask?”
Chrissy points over to a curly-haired guy covered in tattoos, who’s ordering at the bar, “You should go talk to my friend, Eddie, he’s been blabbing about the hot jock in the polo since you walked in.”
Steve swallows, he’d seen the guy when they walked in, but hadn’t allowed himself to look. He was the kind of hot and scary Steve usually avoided due to their usual disdain for preppy guys like Steve. But surely if he kept Chrissy around, he couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t exactly seem like his type.” Steve points out, giving Chrissy a nervous glance.
She laughs, “Oh please, pretty boy with big eyes and a great body? You’re everyone’s type.”
“Not yours.”
“Trust me honey, if you were a masc lesbian I’d be all over you right about now.” Chrissy winks and Steve can feel his face heating up.
“I don’t want to bother him…”
Chrissy rolls her eyes, “Just use the same line you used on me, he doesn’t bite.” she pauses, “Unless you ask really nicely.”
Yeah she isn’t exactly easing his nerves with these little jabs.
“He looks like he carries a knife.” Steve’s just stalling at this point.
“I know he seems kinda mean and scary, but he’s really just a big ol’ softie, trust me,” she pats his shoulder, picks up her drink and starts walking towards Robin, “Now I’ve got a pretty lady to talk to, so get! Go make a move on the scary metalhead, Steve!”
Steve watches her go, his amusement growing at the sight of Robin’s panic when Chrissy plops down at their table.
Mustering up the courage to walk to the bar, he turns but immediately bumps into someone. The person manages to steady their drink and somehow prevent Steve from falling on his ass, grabbing him around the waist.
“Shit sorry!” Steve finds his footing, only to nearly lose it again when he looks up to find his face a few inches away from the aforementioned friend of Chrissy’s.
Eddie smiles, squeezes Steve’s waist once before releasing him, “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”
Steve’s face must have been bloodshot at that point. Two people had called him sweetheart within the span of a few minutes. At this rate his brain was going to malfunction entirely.
Eddie studies him for a second, his eyes twinkling, before looking over to the now unoccupied table. He frowns, looking around the bar.
“She’s over there.” Steve points to where the two girls are deep in conversation.
Eddie’s eyes look from Steve to Chrissy and back again. “Were you heading back there?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Steve clears his throat. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “I was told to go talk to the scary metalhead?”
Eddie’s grin returned, showing off his dimples. Steve was allowing himself to stare at the man now, and god was he stunning.
“Scary? That’s rich coming from the girl who literally carries a knife with her.” Eddie sits down at the table and looks at Steve expectantly, “I don’t bite,” he gestures for him to sit, so he does.
“Apparently you do if I ask nicely,” Steve says, then feels his face heat up again when he hears what he said.
Eddie laughs, loud and beautiful, “God, she really knows how to play wingman, huh?”
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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more than seven minutes — one-shot
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after you spend nearly a week completely avoiding your best friend, he takes matters into his own hands. and if that means locking you into a room with him until he makes you talk, then so be it.
word count: 2.6k
warnings: smut (+18), fluff, friends to lovers, forced proximity, love confessions, mentions of a sex dream, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, dirty talk
author's note: another reupload! this is the only steve fic i've ever written, or rather, the only one i started and finished. not sure if i really write steve that well, but i tried <3 this has a part two and will be uploaded soon too.
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"Where are you taking me?"
"Don't you trust us?"
From your left, Robin's faux exasperated tone had you throwing her a mean side-eye. Her girlfriend, Vickie, on your right, giggled, "I don't think she does, Rob."
It wasn't that you didn't trust them. On a normal day, you would trust those two with your life, but given the circumstance you recently put yourself into, you couldn't help but be suspicious.
They'd found you hiding — or trying to, at least — at the back porch during another one of Tina's house parties, which were getting more and more boring to you, but you needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company would have to do it. 
You were sitting with another one of your friends when Robin and Vickie, appearing seemingly out of nowhere — confusing you immensely because they'd be two people you wouldn't expect to find at Tina's on a Friday night — took your plastic cup from your hand and pulled you by the arms to follow them.
Dragging you along, each one linked to your arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding you up the stairs, into the upstairs hallway. They moved fast, the people around you passing by like a sea of blurred faces.
You were thrust forward when you reached one of the doors, and were pushed inside by Robin, who flashed you an apologetic smile, shrugging, "I'm sorry!"
"Robin!" Yelling over the loud music that bled through the walls, you could hear giggling from the outside, as well as the sound of a key being turned in doorknob. Your heart raced as you slowly realized what was happening, "Vickie! What the fuck?"
You knew who was behind you without even having to turn around.
Taking in your surroundings, you could tell it was a guest room, untouched by the madness going on downstairs and in the hallway. Sitting on the neatly made bed, above the soft pastel bedding, Steve Harrington looked like a kicked puppy, brown eyes following your every move from where you stood, still at the bedroom door, unsure of what to do.
He was the first to break the silence, "So… now I have to resort to kidnapping you in order to have a conversation with my best friend?"
Leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, you tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well you were about to crack. "I wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. Your henchwomen are a little too clumsy for that."
When Steve didn't answer you, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, you tried again. "So, uh… what is this, exactly? Seven minutes in heaven? You know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"
"No, if it was seventh grade you would still be talking to me and not acting all weird for a whole damn week and not telling me why!"
"I'm not acting weird…"
"Bullshit! You are avoiding me like the plague and I need to know why."
You weren't avoiding Steve.
At least, that's what you had told him the first time he confronted you about it, almost a week ago. He had showed up at your house, unannounced as always, with a new film he knew you'd love and a bag of popcorn and candy, walking in as if it was own place — and it was, in a way, more of a home than his own has ever been. You made up an excuse about how you were sick and didn't want to get him sick as well, ushering him out of the house with an apology and the promise of a raincheck on your movie night.
After that, he'd been calling you, asking what was wrong and why were you avoiding him, and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him the truth. You'd told him it was nothing, you were sick that day, then you were busy, and then… you were running out of excuses.
The truth was that you couldn't look your best friend in the eyes anymore.
Sighing, you looked down at your feet, shuffling in place, "It's nothing, Steve. I'm just confused about… something, but I promise it has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong, it's just, just a thing that happened." You stuttered.
There was a shift in the air, the tension dropping in the atmosphere as Steve's expression lightened, suddenly focusing entirely on you. He rose from his place on the bed and walked over to you, his body crowding your personal space. 
"Hey…" You felt a hand gently hold your chin, forcing you to look at him, warm brown eyes searching for yours. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm just worried. We used to tell each other everything and now you're acting like this and I don't know what to think."
Overwhelmed by Steve's closeness, his smell and the heat of his body invading your senses, and his hand moving to cradle your cheek, distracting you from gathering your thoughts, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. "If I tell you, do you promise you'll stay not mad at me?"
"I don't think I could ever be mad at you, Y/N."
With a deep breath, you walked away from him. The nearness, the feeling of his hand on your skin brought you vivid memories of the exact reason you were pushing him away.
"Ihadasexdreamaboutyou."
"A what?"
"A sex dream! I had a sex dream about you and I'm embarassed enough as it is, okay? I know it's weird, but we can't really help what we dream of, you know? It's like our brains produce images using the faces of people we know but it doesn't necessarily mean anything…"
"I get it! I get it, you don't need to explain yourself, I promise." Steve interrupts your rambling, you're still avoiding making eye contact with him, but you notice a light shade of pink take over his face. Silence fell over the room, both of you still trying to come to terms with what you'd just confessed.
"What was your dream like?"
He was closer now, you realized. There was something different in his eyes, a look you'd never seen before — far more intense, pupils blown wide. An electric current grows between you, like a live wire, ready to explode. It didn't help you stop thinking about the Steve in your dream, looking up at you with those same eyes, hands hungrily exploring your naked body.
It was all you could think about in the past few days — and then, there he was, warm and real, right in front of you, your Steve.
"Steve…"
"Please? I'm curious. It can't be that bad."
Turning around, you stared at the wall instead of having to look at him, feeling flustered all over. "I don't remember a lot of the details, but, uh… I think we were on my couch and we were… I  was riding you, I think." Letting out a nervous laugh, you gathered the courage to turn again, pretending to not be affected, "Crazy, right?"
"Not that crazy. Coming from you, I was expecting something a little more shocking." 
You laughed earnestly then, feeling some of the tension leave your body. "Yeah. Screw you, Harrington."
Steve started taking a few tentative steps forward, and instinctively, you took some backwards, until your back hit the wall behind you. Leaning in, those same dark, hungry eyes lowered to your lips, and down to your cleavage — you felt vulnerable under his gaze, but not uncomfortable. It felt right, even though it made your skin prickle. "Can I ask you one more question?"
"Yeah." You breathed out.
One of his hands trailed along your waist, keeping you still as the other rested beside your head, on the wall. This was a line you'd definitely never crossed, even with Steve being as affectionate as he was, always keeping at least one hand on you. Not even in the many times you'd shared a bed and woke up tangled in each other. This was different, heavy with anticipation.
"Did you… touch yourself… thinking about this dream of yours?"
It felt like your head was spinning. Despite yourself, you drew in a sharp inhale, "Do you really need to know that?"
"Only if you want to tell me." His voice was gentle, much more restrained than the wild look in his eyes, barely keeping himself together. "But something tells me you do."
Steve wasn't blind to the effect he had on you, especially up close, where he could feel your heavy breathing, watching the way your body responded to his. Throwing every caution you had out of the metaphoric window, you finally looked him in the eyes, bringing him closer, and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
"What if I told you that I did? What if I told you that I had my fingers inside of me thinking about how good it would feel if I was bouncing on your cock instead? How would it feel to have you run your hands all over me while I do it? Is that what you want to hear?"
Like the cat who got the cream — or the guy who got his best friend to confess how badly she wants to fuck him — he smirked, now holding you with both hands around your waist.
"Any chance you want to make that dream come true, baby?" 
"If King Steve is offering, who am I to refuse?"
"Shut up."
Snaking a hand up your back, raising a chill up your spine, and holding the back of your neck, his mouth descended on yours with a deep kiss. It started clumsy, all teeth and uncoordinated hands, two friends who dared cross a line they'd never return from. Steve took control, then, leading you towards the bed, and laying you on top of it, his hands never leaving your body as he climbed on top of you.
"You should have told me about this earlier. Could've helped you out, you know." He said, in between kisses, descending his mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck, his tongue eliciting tiny gasps from your gaping lips, "You were driving me insane."
His hands travelled under your shirt, after yanking it from under your skirt, finding your covered breasts. Too eager to feel you, he felt you up over your bra, squeezing and caressing his thumb over your nipples. Between Steve's hands and his kisses, you were left breathless under him, seeking whatever release you could get, grinding your hips against his thigh, which was resting between yours. You could feel your cotton panties cling to your wet folds, slick with desire.
"I think you're the one driving me insane here." You whined, biting his lower lip and dragging it just slightly. Steve's eyes darkened above you, and you felt his hands lower, slowly, to the hem of your already bunched up skirt. You watched as he sat up on his knees and removed his polo shirt, revealing his broad chest, and feeling the sudden urge to run your hands over the tuft hair and the smattering of freckles covering it.
"Consider it payback, baby."
They stopped at the waistband of your underwear, and stilled, as he asked, brown eyes as gentle as ever, almost whispering, "This okay?"
"Yeah. Please."
Lowering his head, he left kisses over your thighs as he brought the fabric down your legs and off your body, his hot mouth leaving a trail of small teeth marks and spit that warmed you to your core. There was an underlying devotion in Steve's touch, a reverence he always treated you with — like you were something precious, something worthy of praise. It set you alight under his expert fingers, running over the soft skin of your parted thighs.
Wasting no more time, Steve licked a long stripe over your weeping slit, flattening his tongue. You dropped your head to the pillow beneath you, not being able to stop the moan that rose on your throat. One of your hands reached to grab his hair as he alternated between flicking his tongue over your clit and sucking on it, groaning into your pussy like he was enjoying it just as much as you were. His strong hands grabbed your thighs and pulled you further into him, burying himself into you, his nose touching your clit as he delved his tongue into your hole, fucking you with it.
A litany of moans filled the room, along with the filthy, sloppy sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. You felt delirious, skin burning and grinding yourself shamelessly into his mouth, meeting his movements. 
"Isn't that better, honey?" He teased, bringing a finger down to your entrance and into you, stroking your walls in a torturingly slow pace, making you pout as you kept moving your hips, "Better than fucking yourself with your tiny, little fingers? You could have had this instead of hiding from me."
Mumbling something incoherent, you could barely keep your thoughts together as you felt him add a second finger into you, pumping them faster this time.
"Louder. Let me hear you."
"So much better. You feel so good, Stevie, so fucking good. Please don't stop."
At that point, you didn't care how whiny you sounded. Steve didn't seem to care either, shifting between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit again, matching his languid thrusts as he curled his fingers inside of you, building up the tension in your core, your pleas of "faster, please!" rising from your lips.
He obliged, looking at you with hooded eyes. You meet his gaze as you cry out, feeling your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing into you slowly, and then all at once. He keeps his fingers moving as you ride it out, breathing heavily, and running your hand over his messed up hair, much gentler this time.
"C'mere, baby." You called, voice a little weak from exhaustion. Steve leaned over and you met him halfway, supporting your upper body into your elbows, and kissed him. Deep and slow, savoring the taste of his tongue, still stained with your juices, making you dizzy with uncontained lust, and, quite frankly, an overwhelming feeling of possessiveness, as if you had just marked him as yours.
After spending years watching him pine over Nancy Wheeler, and throw himself into date after meaningless date, it felt only fair.
Not you'd ever admit this to him out loud.
Distracting him with your kisses, you manage to take control, flipping him over, and mounting him, straddling his hips. Steve doesn't stop missing you, however, bringing his hands to rest over your hips and guide you to grind your exposed pussy over the tent on his jeans. You could almost feel him pulsing under you, bringing a new jolt of pleasure through your body, making you run your nails over his chest.
Quickly undoing his belt, and his zipper, you bring his pants down, just enough to free him from his boxers, feeling his length warm and heavy in your hand. He pants under you, his eyes rolling back as you tease him with your fingers, lightly, before running your thumb over the delicious vein on the underside of him, all the way to his already weeping head.
Before you could do much else, you heard a hard knock on the door, followed by barely hushed giggles.
"Are you still alive in there? Do we need to call the police?"
"Go away, Buckley! Jesus." 
Steve groaned at Robin's interruption, running his hands over his face, flushed with frustration. You release him from your hold, chuckling a little at his outburst. Leaving a kiss to his nose, driving his attention back to you, you ask "Your house isn't too far from here, right?"
"Yeah. Your point being…"
"I think we should take this party somewhere a little less crowded."
Humming deep inside his chest, Steve leans up, pecking you on the lips, "Now you're speaking my language."
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gyusrose · 23 days
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➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
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⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
——————————————————————————
your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
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a fic inspired by this, because i could not stop thinking about it.
“What’s your name?” The girl who’s name Eddie absolutely did not catch, yelled, while holding her microphone out to him. 
“I’m, Eddie.” He yelled back at her, not quite sure if their yelling was necessary in their quiet corner of the room, but totally loving the chaos anyway. 
“Are you single Eddie?”
“I am indeed.” 
“Would you like to change that?” 
That question was not hard to answer at all. 
“Absolutely.”
“Great, because otherwise this would have been a very short video.” Eddie laughed much harder than he expected to–and oh shit he is much tipsier than he thought. 
“So what’s your type then?” 
“You’re gonna hate me,” Eddie sighed, knowing that what he was about to say was painfully contradictory, but hey, you can't blame a guy for having his taste in men be permanently altered by a guy he had a crush on when he was 20. “So I like jocks… but like pretty boy jocks.” 
“Pretty boy jocks?”
“Yup.”
A smile grew on her face
“Oh easy, give me like 5 minutes.”
And she really wasn’t kidding when she said that. 
Eddie had barely had enough time to get himself another drink when he heard his name being called behind him. He whipped his head around to see– 
Holy shit
“Harrington?!” 
Steve Harrington stared at him with a look on his face that Eddie assumed was equally as shocked as his. But then he’s the first to move, pulling Eddie into an enthusiastic hug. 
“Eddie! Oh my god, it's been so long!” 
When Eddie is finally released from the hug enough to breathe he responds, “what are you doing here?” 
“A gay bar or Chicago?” Steve laughs. 
And, oh yeah, Eddie’s stupid fucking crush. If the butterflies are anything to go by, that’s still around. 
Before Eddie can respond the girl cuts in, “I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”
“We- uh-”
“We’re from the same town.” Steve fills in when Eddie cannot find the words to explain their fucked up found family situation. 
The girl laughs, “what are the chances, jesus!”
“But hey,” Steve smiles in a way that Eddie is sure cannont mean anything good for him, “At least you got his type pretty dead on.”
“Oh my god, I forgot I told you that.” Eddie groans and full body cringes. And Steve just laughs. A frustratingly lovely laugh. 
“I’m not surprised you were very high.” 
Jesus fucking christ.
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steddielations · 7 months
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There’s a dog that comes around the trailer park when Eddie moves in with Wayne, back when his head was shaved and his eyes were still haunted by the walls of his dad's house. No one wanted to play with the gaunt looking weird kid, so the first friend he made in Hawkins was this big brown dog, way bigger than any others. It was almost scary, wolf-like but he acted like a puppy, nudging Eddie with his snout, cheering him up, always wanting to play like maybe it was lonely too.
Then Eddie made friends at school, the dog visited less as he got older and more sure of himself, denouncing cliques, especially the jocks who lorded over everyone. The dog stopped visiting entirely and Eddie started to worry something happened to it.
Years later, he spots it with Robin Buckley of all people. She’s talking to it, which might seem strange but Eddie always felt like the dog was a good listener too. After that, he tries to find his old friend again and one night, he catches a glimpse of him but he disappears into the woods.
Instead, Eddie sees Steve Harrington later that night, disheveled and dirtied, total opposite to his usual pristine polos and perfect hair. It’s so out of place, the first of many times that Eddie sees him while out looking for the dog. Eddie never says anything, can’t imagine Steve reacting well to a moonlight conversation with the freak. Sure, Steve was iced out of the popular crowd for reasons all around the rumor mill, made an odd match with Robin at their mall job before the fire, and weirdly enough the new Hellfire boys seem to worship the ground he walks on, but Eddie has no impression of Steve beyond that.
Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room. Eddie runs like hell, terrified and ashamed, hiding in the boathouse. He feels like a scared kid again and finds himself wishing for the dog, his first friend that never judged him and always made him feel safe.
That’s when an unlikely group shows up and Eddie has no time to hide, like they tracked him there by scent. Steve Harrington rushes right to him with big brown puppy eyes that feel so familiar somehow, so comforting. Stunned, Eddie lets Steve wrap him in a warm hug, nuzzling his ear with soft assurances, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad we found you. You’re okay.”
To Eddie's amazement, his body just melts into Steve’s embrace, like greeting an old friend.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*
Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.
And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.
And a few of them were also hot.
But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!
He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.
“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”
Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.
The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.
Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.
Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.
Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.
But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.
So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.
Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.
He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.
He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.
“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.
A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.
“What?” He hissed out.
“Do you understand this?”
“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”
Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.
“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.
“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.
Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.
“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”
“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”
“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.
“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”
Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.
“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”
Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.
“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.
“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”
“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”
Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”
“So you aren’t a natural at French?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”
“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.
“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.
Eddie kinda liked that.
“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”
Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.
“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”
Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.
By Steve Harrington.
“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”
Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.
“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”
Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.
Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required
When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.
Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.
Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.
Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉
Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.
Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.
And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.
He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.
Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.
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steviesbicrisis · 8 months
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Thinking about YouTuber Steve who’s gaining a lot of popularity with his weekly vlogs. The routine is very similar: he goes to work, hangs out with friends, acts silly for the camera, cooks for his roommate, watches movies with his roommate, goes out with his roommate.
His roommate is there a lot.
His new growing fanbase doesn’t take long to divide into factions regarding Steve’s dating life and sexuality; There are ships, OTPs, people who want him single so they can date him, and a surprisingly small portion which questions his heterosexuality, which gets always shut up by the following compelling arguments:
“stop assuming he’s gay.”
“Steve doesn’t look gay. He’s just a guy, a former jock, who loves to cook and hangs out with friends. A friend more than the others, but it’s his roommate so it makes sense, right?”
“And yes, they do cuddle while watching movies, but who doesn’t love a cuddle? You don’t have to be gay for that.”
“Sure, they hold hands when they go out but the city is crowded and they might lose each other.”
“Since when two male friends can’t be close without assuming that they’re gay?”
“Have you ever seen them kiss in ten minutes of weekly vlog? No, so drop your gay agenda already.”
And Steve Harrington, who started the whole vlog thing in the first place because he wanted to update his friends who live miles away and still doesn’t know how he got this much heteronormative bullcrap in his comments, has had enough.
One day, Steve Just-A-Guy Harrington, wakes up and chooses violence.
He replies to a tiktok comment that says “stop assuming he’s gay” with another video.
It begins with Steve glaring at the camera “oh yes please, stop assuming I’m gay.”
Then there’s a quick motion and Steve is pulling a curly haired guy into frame: Eddie, his roommate/platonic friend/totally not his boyfriend of 5+ years.
Eddie yawns, looking sleepily at the camera “are you vlogging?”
“I’m proving a point” Steve replies, then kisses him. They almost get lost into it, but Steve is a man on a mission, so he pulls back and turns to the camera.
“This is Eddie, my boyfriend. Not a friend who’s a boy, you delusional homophobes, we are together, a couple, in a relationship. We haven’t been just friends for over 5 years. We live together, he isn’t just a roommate.
And even if he was just my roommate, do you think I would live with this” he squeezes Eddie’s cheeks between his fingers and zooms in to show his face up close. Eddie blinks a couple of times, but let’s Steve do whatever he wants.
“Do you seriously think that I would live with this 24/7 and stay straight? Like, are you insane?” He gives Eddie a quick smack on the lips, leaving him blushing and more confused than ever.
Usually, it’s Eddie the one getting almost feral over Steve, not the other way around.
He doesn’t complain.
“So yeah, stop assuming I’m gay. Because I’m bi, you homophobic little shits.”
The video ends with Eddie pulling Steve for more than a quick peck on the lips, and Steve throwing the phone on their couch, face down.
Somehow, under Steve’s video, there’s still someone that comments “I mean, this doesn’t mean anything. It’s just bros helping bros, right?”
Steve is too busy making out with his “bro” to read it.
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rootbeerworshiper · 2 months
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Under the Table
Reader x Matt Sturniolo
summery: you’re left with no choice but to tutor the star hockey player, Matt Sturniolo, but as much as you pride yourself on not being into hockey players, not even you can resist.
warnings: smut!!!! fem!recieving, unprotected sex (reader on birth control), dumification kink if u squint, dom!matt, male!receiving, slight aftercare, fluff, yeah guys idk
love, sienna <3
being an english major at Boston University was no easy feat.
you were constantly engulfed in numerous amounts of homework, from essays to poetry analysis, you were swamped.
money wasn’t something that you grew up from, and with the large amounts of school work piling up, you didn’t have time for a job.
so when your professor mentioned tutoring, you were sold.
english was always something you were naturally good at and you prided yourself on keeping the same grades you had in high school while in college.
tutoring can’t be that hard right?
wrong.
you had put out a few flyers that offered your services and the one person who took you up on that offer was none other than Matt Sturniolo.
although the two of you went to the same high school you had never spoken outside of a couple class assignments—this was more than okay with you.
Matt fit the description of a dumb popular jock to a tee, and you considered the fact that he got into the same college as you unfortunate.
after hours of hard work and effort went into your acceptance, the last thing you needed to see was a post from your highschool congratulating the Matthew Sturniolo on his D1 scholarship to the school.
hockey was a pretty big part of New England but it was never a sport that spoke to you, well not that most sports did.
the entire atmosphere of hockey boys was enough to give you the ick and yet here you are, sat alongside the schools top player, trying to get him to form an essay.
“you have to have an argumentative statement, something to base the whole essay off of and interest the reader” you state, trying your best to not get annoyed at the clueless boy.
he stares at the blank google doc. “well what am i arguing?”
you sigh. this was harder than you thought. “the main theme of this essay is supposed to be on complexity. you chose ‘Beartown’ as your independent novel so you have to argue how the text is complex, or what makes it so complex.”
it was like talking to a toddler, the information going in one ear and out the other. “i can’t write the essay for you Matt”
he groans. “why not?”
you think for a second, once again attempting to not get frustrated. “the story is told from multiple perspectives right?” he nods. “why might that be more complex than a story just told from one?”
it’s clear he’s thinking, and you just hope what you said made sense. “well adding more perspectives would make it like complex because it builds a story that has layers”
subconsciously you smack his arm out of excitement. “yes! there you go. in better words you have your statement to build this essay off of”
you’re heart melts at his smile in response.
sure, you hated his guts, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t incredibly hot.
it’s difficult to peel your eyes off of him as he maintains eye contact with you, but you have work to do, and you won’t be yet another girl who grows infatuated with Matt Sturniolo—you just won’t.
the next few sessions were as normal as they could be.
it wasn’t easy to keep him on topic, he was always distracted by something.
sometimes he just looks at you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it—often diverting the conversation to something else.
trying to get him to understand poetry was a whole new headache.
you had spent hours in the library at this point after finally completing the dreaded essay, now crafting an analysis on different poems.
if you hadn’t picked such a comfortable outfit for this session you’d probably hate your life right now—so you mentally thank yourself for choosing a sweat suit.
to say you were both exhausted would be an understatement.
trying to teach a hockey boy the importance of the placement of words on a page and why capitalization can help emphasize certain points was tiring—you could tell he was tired too by the way he buried his face in his hands periodically.
“maybe we should just call it a night” you say, closing your laptop and yawning.
the last thing you expected was for him to disagree. “no wait i really need this done for tomorrow’s class it can’t be late. if i fail this class i can’t play in playoffs”
right. how could you forget the beloved hockey player will miss out on the big game if you don’t help him.
“i’d stay and help you but the library closes in ten minutes so there’s not much more we can do” you reply, already defeated.
Matt however has more ambition to complete this assignment than you expected. “we can go to my dorm”
you give him a look of slight disbelief. “your dorm?”
he just nods excitedly. “yeah my roommates out of town right now and we only have like 2 more poems left. it’s perfect”
“i don’t know Matt i’m tired” you sigh. not only were you tired but the idea of being in a college boys dorm was not the most appealing.
the eyes he gives you might be the death of you. “please?” you rub your forehead with your hand as if to release tension. “i’ll buy you red bull”
you smile at this. “fine. but i can’t be out for forever”
“you won’t be i swear. i’ll be so dialled in” he smiles. a sight that you are more than okay with seeing.
the walk to his dorm is short, with a stop at the campus confectionery for two sugar free red bulls.
not a lot is said as you enter the main building, walking through the halls as you near Matt’s room.
he goes to open the door but pauses. “don’t judge the decorations in here”
you smile at this, expecting something along with lines of hockey sticks taped on the walls. but what you were met with was much different.
there’s white christmas lights strung on the wall and shelves filled with numerous books and journals. all the furniture was a cohesive shade of brown and alongside the hockey posters were different vintage prints.
in the least weird way possible, you were jealous of his dorm. “this is not what i was expecting” you gawk as he shuts the door behind you.
it’s visible how embarrassed he is so you do your best to shut that down. “i love it actually, if you showed this to any of my friends they’d assume that i decorated it”
he smiles now but doesn’t touch on his ‘girl english major’ room decor tendencies. “uh i’ll just clear off the desk here and then we can get to work, you don’t want the overhead light on do you?” he asks, immediately earning a shake of the head from you.
so now you’re sat next to him, opening your laptop in the midst of the dim lit room as you sip on the red bell purchased by the brunette. “okay where do you want to start? you have two more poems to analyze”
he just rubs his eyes. “you pick”
getting him to focus would be an impossible task “if you’re too tired we can stop or-“
he shakes his head immediately, as if to wake himself up. “no i’m good to keep going, just need a sec to wake up” he defends.
“okay we’ll start with this one then, do you wanna read it?” you look to the tired boy.
“can you? i’ll listen i swear” you groan but agree, it’s been a long day and you don’t want to push him too much.
so you begin reading. “you must not wonder, though you think it strange” he places his hand on your thigh almost immediately. “Matt”
“keep reading, don’t worry about me” he leans into you slightly more, looking at the words on the screen over your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck.
“to see me hold my louring head so low” you continue, his hand inching closer to your centre.
normally you’d be against this—you’d be standing up and telling him off.
but something about the way his hand covers majority of your upper thigh and the smell of his breath has you insane.
so you try your best to focus on the words, not the pooling wetness in your underwear. “And that my eyes take no delight to range” he places a kiss to your neck—so incredibly gentle it could make your skin crawl.
you let out a sigh, trying to avoid throwing your head back as his hand makes contact with your clothed clit. “keep reading baby cmon”
you do as you’re told. “About the gleams on which your face do grow” he kisses down your neck now as his hand increases his gentle pressure.
subconsciously you buck your hips up—eager for more stimulation. “yeah you like that?” he whispers in your ear as you fight back a moan, instead just nodding. “i need words” he takes his hand off, still keeping his face close.
“fuck Matt yes i like it, i need more” you whine, shutting your eyes as his hand toys with the hem of your sweats.
“can i take these off?” he asks, tugging slightly.
you nod eagerly. “please” you lift our hips up and he slides your sweats off, leaving you in your underwear.
his hand roams your lower half, his palm placing pressure on your clit as his fingers explore your clothed entrance. “god your soaked. i knew you’d fall apart under my touch”
there’s the cockiness that normally you hate, right now though? it only turned you on more. “keep reading cmon pretty girl”
you open your eyes to look back at the screen. “the mouse with one hath-“ you let out a breath as his fingers go back to toying with your clit. “broken out of trap”
“not so smart now huh?” he whispers.
you’re a whimpering mess now with the way his thumb rubs small circles on your clit as his mouth places sloppy kisses on your exposed neck. “Matt please i need you”
this must have been enough for him to stop teasing because he immediately stands up, placing your hands on his shoulders as he grabs you legs to pick you up—finally placing his lips on yours.
it’s messy and it’s desperate but it’s also fucking hot.
he leans over, letting your back fall on his bed as he hovers over you.
wasting no time he signals for you to lift your arms as he brings your hoodie over your head, revealing your bare chest. he smiles at this. “such a fucking slut tutoring me without a bra on”
he hovers back over you now, whispering in your ear once more before his fingers begin to toy with your already hardened nipples. “couldn’t focus when i saw your nipples poking out of your hoodie, begging to be touched”
you can’t even reply with words, too focused on the way his thumb grazes your sensitive nipple.
you’re a mess and he’s barely done a thing, already arching into him, but you try to gain focus—if he gets to see you like this you deserve the same.
without words you reach for his shirt, struggling to lift it up as you’re overcome with pleasure.
he knows exactly what you want through, taking his hands off of temporarily, now hovering over you once more.
you can’t help but gawk at his physique. it’s hard to focus on the tattoos when your eyes are drawn to his abs that are extenuated by the dim lighting.
“gonna make you feel so good baby” he begins to make his way down. “you’ve spent so much time on me, gotta make it up to you, yeah?” he kisses your clit through your underwear.
at this point your throbbing. “yes” you spit out.
he pulls down your underwear, leaving you completely exposed for him as he stares at you once more, fully taking in the sight in front of him.
you hide your face with your hands, too embarrassed at the mere vulnerability. “let me see your face baby” you shyly remove your hands, looking up at the boy now—you’re practically begging with your eyes.
“you’re so fucking perfect” he leans back down to give you one more kiss, this one more intimate than the last few. “so much better than my imagination” you giggle at this but before you know it he’s back down where you want him, pushing your legs open as he spits on folds—mesmerized by the way it slides down.
before you can complain again he finally makes contact, licking up the wetness his voice has caused before focusing on your clit.
you’re already incredibly turned on, the feeling of his warm tongue on you causes you to let out an almost uncontrollable moan.
he lifts off, kissing your clit. “shhh baby, i have neighbours” he brings his hand to your mouth and you waste no time sucking on them to muffle your moans.
almost immediately he gets back to work, as if he’s starving for you—and to be fair he might be.
his constant flicking of his tongue on your clit has you whimpering and moving around under his touch—you’re already incredibly sensitive.
it’s like he’s in a trance, giving you his full attention, until momentarily he backs out for air. “wanna cum on my fingers?” you practically moan at his words, nodding frantically. “what’d i say about your words”
his hand continues working on your clit at a slow pace while he speaks. “yes- fuck wanna cum on your fingers” he smiles at this and immediately brings two finger into your entrance, if it weren’t for his hand that immediately covered your mouth the neighbours would be sick of you.
he goes slow at first, hitting your g-spot with every curl of his long fingers. “you’re so good Matt” you moan as he speeds up. “so fucking good”
it’s clear he liked the praise by the way he dips his head back down, his tongue making familiar contact with your clit.
you’re gone. absolutely spent under his touch.
his pace quickens when he feels you clench around him, his tongue forming small teasing circles on your clit while his fingers dig impossibly deeper into you.
“fuck” you throw your head back. “i’m cl- fuck i’m close” his already fast pace quickens, his tongue now applying a pressure to your clit you didn’t know was possible.
before you can even warn him your legs close on his pretty brown hair as you arch your back. it’s practically impossibly to stay quiet, his pace not slowing down at all as you rock your hips through your orgasam.
eventually he pulls back, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.
your practically out of breath from holding back your moans but his face comes to meet yours once more. “you did so good for me” he kisses you before you can reply, the rhythm of your lips together is comfortable.
as great as it is, you can’t help but feel his buldge through his pants on your thigh, so you do what you’re sure he appreciates and you reach your hand down—immediately wrapping your hand around the outline.
he stops kissing you and immediately drops his head to your shoulder and you fingers continue. “you gonna take your pants off or am i making you cum in your underwear”
he chuckles softly at this, but nonetheless gets straight to work sliding off his pants and leaning in to kiss you once more.
you decide to take initiative, flipping him over and immediately straddling him—the look in his eyes is priceless.
if you could take a picture you would. never in your life has someone looked so incredibly fuckable, but here was Matt Sturniolo, laying beneath you with his messy hair and eyes full of lust.
you waste no more time, grinding your hips on his clothed bulge and kissing along his collarbone—the poor boy practically shivers at your delicate touch. “if you don’t do something i swear to god-“ you grab his bulge now, looking at the boy who’s eyes have just squeezed shut.
“what was that?” its unlike you to be dominant, but it’s also unlike you to fuck a hockey player so really all cards were on the table.
you give in though, crawling down to lick his pre cum through his boxers, teasing slightly more before pulling them down all together—the sight is mouth watering.
he’s a mess beneath you as you look at him, his dick is a good size, longer than it is thick, the way his wetness practically glistens on his tip is enough to have you flustered. “cmon pretty girl stop teasing” he says from beneath you, his hands behind his head as he watches you.
you pull your hair back slightly as you place your flat tongue on his tip, making him hiss above you as he uses his hands to keep your hair out of your face.
almost instantly you get to work, taking as much of him as you can, letting your saliva drip down on his length as you slowly lift your head up and down.
his whimpers go straight to your core, your body already begging for more as you swirl your tongue on his tip.
you pop off almost unexpectedly, and speak before he can even say anything. “i wanna ride you” you wipe the saliva off your mouth as you look at the shocked boy who’s smile grows slowly.
“yeah?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows, unsure.
you nod your head sitting up more now to face him. “yeah” you smile and before he can fully reach for his bedside table you stop him. “i’m on birth control” you begin to crawl down leaving kisses on his stomach.
“and i.”
kiss.
“wanna.”
kiss.
“feel.”
kiss
“you.”
his breathing immediately increases as you line yourself up, his hands making their way to your waist to assist you as you lower onto his length.
you let out a breath as you adjust to the size. “fuck you feel so good around me” Matt practically moans out.
it takes a moment for you to adjust fully, but you begin moving up and down and the boy beneath you is a moaning mess.
you rock your hips a little faster, leaning forward now he places his mouth on your nipple and you can feel the way he moans into you—it’s hot as fuck.
it doesn’t take long for you to feel close, and it’s like Matt can tell because he immediately places his hand in between your bodies and places a familiar touch to your throbbing clit.
you pick up the pace, chasing your high. “Matt fuck i’m so-“ you just moan again, unable to speak.
through his many heavy breaths he replies. “me too pretty girl”
a few more rocks of your hips and you feel his warmth fill you up as your stomach feels the familiar clenching feeling, his hand moving quickly beneath you, causing your second orgasam of the night.
by now your both exhausted, tired from doing so much school and well, from fucking too.
you basically plop down beside him, the two of you out of breath.
“i like that form of payment” you joke, causing Matt to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck while your fingers begin to play with his hair.
you feel his smile on your collarbone and his hand makes its way across your stomach. “guess i’ll have to get tutored by you more often” he sighs, standing up and placing his boxers back on. he walks to the bathroom and you’re confused for a second, but he comes back out with a damp cloth, and begins cleaning the mess the two of you made.
Matt may be a dumb hockey player, but his pros definitely outweighed the cons.
he offers you one of his shirts which you welcome with open arms as you slide your underwear back on. it’s safe to say this is the giddiest you’ve ever felt after a hookup.
now that he’s back in bed you immediately lean into him, as tired as you are you still want to me close to him, wrapping your leg over his waist.
he rubs your bare thigh as he unplugs the lights and kisses the top of our head. “goodnight baby”
you nuzzle yourself impossibly closer to him. “goodnight Matt”
and with that the two of you pass out. the day completely drained both of you, and with the comfort of each other you were gone.
the next morning came by quick, the sun immediately waking you up. the boy next to you is still sound asleep and as cute as ever but the new day means his poetry analysis needs to be completed—for once you weren’t opposed to cheating.
you get up as slowly and quietly as you can, grabbing the laptop off of his desk and bringing it back into bed with you.
it doesn’t take long for you to complete the last two poems, you make sure to use less big words and get a couple things wrong so as to hide your actual identity.
just as you finish writing the last sentence Matt wakes up, tossing and turning slightly before his eyes meet you.
you smile at the sight of the sleepy boy. “good morning, how’d you sleep?”
he brings his arm to your waist, pulling you into him as you place the laptop to the side. “i was knocked the fuck out. what are you up to?”
“may have just finished your poetry analysis” a grin enters your face at the shocked expression Matt shows instantly.
“holy shit really?” he sits up now, hands still on you.
you play with his fingers. “it didn’t take that long or anything”
he scoffs. “i forgot you were a genius” you just kiss him in reply.
“you need to get ready, you have playoffs to train for” you say, you had noticed his calendar had a practice today when you were analyzing his room last night.
a few minutes later and Matt is ready, it really doesn’t take long at all to be a man.
you sit at the edge of his bed, putting on your sweats from last night.
he walks over towards you, hovering over you as he brushes through your hair with his fingers. “i’ll see you tomorrow night yeah?”
you furrow your eyebrows. “what’s tomorrow night?”
“playoffs” he smiles. “figured you might wanna watch your boyfriend score a few goals”
his confidence never fails to amuse you. “boyfriend huh?” you tease and he just nods, looking for confirmation. “guess as your girlfriend i’ll stop by for a bit” he misses you immediately, a smile still on his face when you pull back. “but don’t expect me to be screaming for you, that’s really not my scene”
“i’d expect nothing less”
a/n: this literally spawned out of mid air but omg so cutesy i want hockey matt in my life rn
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @1hvrrington1 @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift
@junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @flowernoemie @sturnified @alicejwebster @s7urnfilms @queenofawkwardfangirling @madsdogst @justlivinglive @safara05 @k-312-xx @sluttycupsworld
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steddiealltheway · 11 months
Text
It starts out simple. Eddie notices that Steve sometimes spaces out, but no one really pays him much attention. Usually, he’ll try to enter back into the conversation, and he’ll earn a few eye rolls when he has no idea what anyone’s talking about.
But what really haunts Eddie is the way Steve will sometimes be zoned out with his jaw and fists clenched, looking as if he’s reliving the worst of the upside down. He’ll gradually come out of it, and sometimes Robin will nudge him and quietly whisper if he’s okay, but he just shakes it off.
It’s like he has to appear fine in front of everyone, but Eddie gets it. He’s not sure what the group would do if Steve fell apart.
But a few times, he looks like he’s on the verge of it.
One time, he’s far away enough from everyone that Eddie is able to inconspicuously make his way to the former jock and nudge him. “Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie asks.
Steve startles and Eddie watches as the tension in him increases then slowly releases until he appears “normal.”
Eddie grabs his wallet and sifts through it before finally finding what he wants. A single dull penny.
He hands it to Steve who takes it and starts fiddling with it. He glances back at everyone else to make sure they’re out of earshot before he answers, “I’m just scared that maybe this Vecna creep will return, you know? It’s happened four times by now. How do we know it’s over?”
Eddie takes a deep breath. He’s gone through the same thought process of wondering if he’ll be back. If life will return to hell again. But he can’t imagine what it’s been like for Steve whose done it multiple times.
But he’s been able to logic his way out of his anxiety before. “Well, we have Will who has the whole Spidey-sense thing going on, so we’ll know if he’s back but… remember what El said. She felt it. Like it was finished this time. For good.”
Steve just nods and Eddie sees the tiniest shred of anxiety slip away. “Plus,” Eddie continues, “Can’t let our hero boy do all the worrying or his strength might deplete. How about I do all the worrying and standing guard tonight, huh?”
Steve glances over at him for a second, and Eddie almost thinks he’s going to laugh him off or something. Instead, he lets out a shaky sigh, puts his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thanks, man.”
Eddie watches as Steve pockets the penny and actually heads toward the group with a smile on his face. He smiles and looks around. Time to stand guard.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie almost forgets about it, but it’s probably the whole not-getting-any-sleep-because-he-keeps-having-nightmares thing. It’s been a particularly bad week when he finds himself in the Harrington home with all the gremlins and other adults. He wants to be all bigger than life / life of the party, but his energy is gone.
He sits at the kitchen island on a barstool with his head in his hands, staring at the granite slab of the countertop when a hand and something slides into his view.
The hand pulls back and Eddie gets sight of a penny. What the-?
He looks up to see Steve sitting next to him with a small smile on his face. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks.
Eddie stares at him and feels his heart flutter but he wills that to die down a bit. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. Just…” he glances off to see if anyone else is in earshot before continuing, “I keep getting these damn nightmares. Sometimes about… Chrissy… sometimes about random stressful shit, but they just won’t stop. It’s like although Vecna’s gone, he’s always here.”
Steve’s gaze has turned sympathetic as he runs a hand through his hair and looks around before lowering his voice. “I’ve been through the same thing, but I’ve found that it’s easier getting through the night with other people. Don’t tell anyone, but I snuck into Robin’s room for weeks after the whole Russian torture thing. But hey, if you want to crash here with me tonight, I’d be more than happy to have you.” Steve glances away from Eddie and runs a hand through his hair again as a faint blush appears on his cheeks. “Hell, you’d be helping me out too, man.”
Eddie considers it and immediately feels a wave of relief flood through him at the thought. He pockets the penny and squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “That’d be great. Thank you. Really,” Eddie says with a smile and eases himself off the barstool.
He hears Dustin raising his voice in the other room and Eddie says to Steve, “Time to ware out the children.”
Steve just laughs and joins him, but Eddie sees another tiny piece of tension leave his body.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It slowly becomes their thing. Eddie finds himself keeping pennies on himself at all times just in case, but by some strange fate, him and Steve always use that same penny.
Sometimes it pressed into Eddie’s palm, Eddie once throws it at Steve yelling, “catch!”, and sometimes it just appears in one of their vision.
The thoughts range from stupid things like Steve trying to remember if he turned off the oven to Eddie’s Dnd campaign to the overwhelming trauma from the Upside Down seeping into their lives.
Along with the penny becoming a regular thing, Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed becomes a regular thing too. At first, it’s a bit awkward as they try to find out how much space each of them needs, what side of the bed they prefer, what they’re like in the mornings, and overall just how to be around each other when sharing a bed.
It shifts when one night, Eddie notices Steve staring at the ceiling wide awake. Eddie leans over the side of the bed where his pants are and digs into his pocket to retrieve the penny which he gently lays on Steve’s chest.
Steve glances down and carefully picks it up, twirling it as Eddie watches the coin slightly glint in the moonlight. There’s a deep breath and then Steve is saying, “I was just thinking about what if we… I don’t know. Like… held each other? Or rather, I was thinking that it would be nice to be held.”
Steve sets the penny down on the nightstand which indicates the end of his thoughts but he doesn’t dare turn to face Eddie. But Eddie is already scooting closer to press his body against Steve who instantly curls into Eddie’s embrace holding him as if he’ll escape if he tries to let go. But Eddie would never escape.
And every night they hold each other close with no questions asked and no penny needed.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie’s feelings for Steve grow. He knows they’ve been there since the beginning, but with the whole penny thing, it’s like he has the key to all of Steve’s deepest thoughts and desires. He knows that Steve has access to his as well and is just thankful that Steve’s never given him the penny when Eddie’s been staring at him. He knows he can’t lie to Steve, and it may be dumb, but he especially can’t lie with that penny in sight.
So, he says nothing. He keeps holding Steve through the night, comforting him if he’s awoken from a particularly bad nightmare, but usually just laying there willing himself to stay awake as long as he can so he can bask in the sensation of holding Steve Harrington.
Then, one morning as Steve makes them breakfast, Eddie looks at him for a little too long, wondering how he’s been able to live his life without him when that penny is slid into his sight.
Eddie blinks down at it and swallows as Steve looks at him. “You,” Eddie blurts out, “I was just thinking about you.”
Eddie leaves the penny on the table because he knows that’s not enough of his thoughts. Steve turns back to scrape the eggs out of the pan onto a plate and put some butter on their toast before he turns back to Eddie. He doesn’t pry, but through the breakfast the penny stays in sight.
Eddie’s plate is clear when he finally fully answers, “I was just thinking about how much better my life has been since you’ve come into it, and… thank you.” He feels blood rise to his cheeks and finds Steve with a similar blush.
“I was thinking the same about you,” Steve responds and takes their plates to clean them before Eddie can respond.
He knows he’s falling in love with him.
-:-:-:-:-:-
It’s a few mornings later, and Eddie feels someone watching him. It doesn’t feel creepy or bad because he can feel the way that Steve has shifted to lean over him. Eddie opens his eyes slowly and takes in the view of Steve staring down at him with a small smile on his face. Eddie rolls towards his side of the bed, where his clothes are piled up and grabs the penny before rolling back to Steve.
He gently presses it into Steve’s hand who continues to stare down at him with a look in his eyes that Eddie can only assume is reflected in his own gaze.
Steve takes a deep breath and whispers, “I was just thinking that I might be in love with you.”
Eddie’s heart stutters, and he feels Steve’s hand shift to press the penny into his. Eddie smiles and replies, “I think I might be in love with you too.”
Steve smiles all wide and bright in the way that makes Eddie feel like he’s the luckiest person in the world to be able to see it. Then, Steve’s hand is intertwining with Eddie’s and as the penny presses into their palms, they both lean in and kiss, only breaking away when they both break into wide smiles and begin laughing as all the tension drains from them.
Years later, Eddie gets the penny turned into a ring and when he gets down on one knee, all he asks is, “Penny for your thoughts?”
AO3 Link (for @humanityinahandbag <3)
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msgexymunson · 4 months
Text
The Code
Description: Your very first day at your new school and you've already managed to find a dealer. Not only that, but he is fine. Maybe living with your mom might not be too bad after all. 
Warnings: Making out, fingering, male and fem oral receiving, p in v unprotected sex 
A/N: I just wanted some desperate, clingy ‘I need you’ sex so here we are. I loved writing this so much I think this is going to end up in a whole universe just about these two.
6.2k words
Masterlist 
This must be the spot. 
You walk out into the little clearing in the woods. It's private, encircled by trees, with a picnic bench right in the middle. As you wonder who the hell put it there, you take in the quiet. It's bizarre; a minute ago you were surrounded by loudmouth jocks and giggling girls, sneakers squeaking and lockers slamming, but here? Silence, except for the twittering of birds and whispering wind in the trees. 
Perching on the slightly mildewed table top, you dump your bag and jacket on the seat, crossing your legs and picking your fingernails to pass the time. 
A rustle of leaves makes you snap your head up, and you see who must be the most gorgeous guy at this school. Tall, long hair, a narrow little waist you want to wrap your legs around, and judging by his clothes, he's a metalhead too. 
“Hey, you leave me a note?” 
He looks around nervously, circling the table before walking over to you. 
“Yeah, you OK?” 
He smiles, and you rethink your previous statement. He must be the most gorgeous guy in this whole town. Such a pretty mouth. 
“Sorry, it's just last time I got an anonymous note in my locker I got jumped by four jocks.” 
“Oh, well you know what they say, when a boy bullies you they really just have a crush on you.” 
He laughs, tipping his head back. 
“Well these guys must want my fuckin’ babies or some shit!” 
Giggling, you look down, covering your mouth girlishly. Eddie takes the small opportunity to check you out. You look like you've wandered in from a dream. A very wet dream. Little black Mary Janes on your feet, thigh high white socks, and a black and white plaid skirt. The strip of thigh on show is making his pants tighter by the minute. The white t-shirt is a work of art; it seems so innocent, but it's tight enough to accentuate your obvious curves, and the outline of a black bra is peeking through the thin material. He's sure it's purposeful; who wears black under white and doesn't think about it showing? 
You clear your throat and his eyes flick upward to your face guiltily. Not saying anything, you let your little smug smile and raised brow do the talking for you. This looks like it's going to be a lot of fun. 
After a few seconds of letting him squirm, mostly to see the blush flowing to his cheeks, you give him your name and explain. 
“I'm new here, some girl told me you're the one to go to for weed. Eddie, right?” 
“Guilty as charged,” he replies, bowing at you. Rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with one finger. His grin widens as he stands right in front of you, eyes darting to your lips and back up. 
“So, you got something for me?” 
Eddie plants his hands either side of you on the table, close enough to smell your perfume. It's heady, laden with spice and promise, not the sweet scent he expected. That just intrigues him even more.
Your heads spinning from him crowding your space. His eyes are otherworldly, deep brown, full of such depth and soul that it takes a moment for you to remember to breathe. 
“For you? Of course.” 
He winks, he fucking winks, sending a swarm of insects in a whirlwind in your stomach, then sits down at the bench, slamming a battered tin lunchbox down. He gestures at the seat in front but you swivel on the table to face him, legs crossed an inch or so away from his hand. 
“So, I'll do you a half ounce for… twenty. Cool?” 
He wags a baggy at you and you make a pass for it, but he holds it at arm's length. 
“Twenty?” 
Huffing dramatically, you lean far back to grab your bag from the opposite bench. Eddie holds an arm out, one thrown over his eyes. 
“Cover your, er, modesty sweetheart.”
You realise he means your skirt that had ridden high on your thighs, exposing a triangle of your panties. It was only for a moment, but he saw. He thinks it'll be ingrained on the inside of his eyelids, burned into the back of his brain forever. They're baby pink, yet another surprise. You seem to be full of them.
“Such a gentleman.” 
Plopping your bag in your lap, you rummage through it to find a note. Eddie's eyes widen yet again. Your little denim backpack is covered in patches; Megadeath, Anthrax, Saxon. Just when he thinks he's got you figured out, you throw another curveball at him. 
“Here, twenty.” 
He takes it and exchanges it for the bag in his hands. Squirrelling it away, you smile. 
“Thank you. Fancy a smoke?” 
“Sure, why not.” 
You move to get your newest purchase out again but he waves a hand. 
“This one's on me sweetheart. For the er, pleasure of your company.” 
“Well, aren't I lucky.” Smirking at him, revelling in the pink tinge on the apples of his cheeks, you watch whilst he rolls. 
“So, you're new? When did you start?” 
“Today. Moving in with my mom and my brother for a little while whilst my dad cools off.” 
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, licking the paper with a pointed precise tongue. 
“Yeah. I got suspended, he freaked. Mom wanted her little girl back, so here I am.” 
“Oh really? What did you do?” 
You bite your lip as he passes you the lit joint, and take a couple of hits. 
“What didn't I do?” 
He laughs loudly with you, eyes darting to your chest as it jiggles. Fuck, he's already down bad. 
You make some chit chat, surface level stuff, but it shows you just how easy he is to talk to. He's confident, bordering cocky, but it's belied by the way your flirtatious comments make him blush. 
The joint is long gone. Eddie stands up, getting ready to leave. You want him to stay, you need him to, just a little longer. It emboldens you, enough to make a move. 
“Eddie, what's your policy on kissing clients?” 
He's mid standing when your question gets through to his brain, entirely short circuiting it for a second. 
“Huh?” 
“I said,” you beckon, and Eddie's legs move on their own accord, “what's your policy on kissing clients?” 
He's grinning then, standing in front of you by the edge of the table. As you uncross your legs, his smile only widens, slotting his narrow hips between your thighs. You take one of his hands in yours, examining his rings, before you place it gently on your leg, silently giving him permission to touch you. 
Eddie feels dazed, half expecting someone to jump from the bushes with a camera, declaring this all some elaborate prank. The bare skin of your thigh is so soft, silky smooth. His fingers dance just underneath the hem of your skirt, testing the waters, but you let him. You let him. 
“My policy? It probably goes against the Holy drug dealers code.” He shakes his head sadly, but he's still smiling, and still not pulling away. 
“Drug dealer code? What like, don't get high on your own supply?” You respond cheekily, nodding at the butt of the joint stubbed out on the table. 
Your hands snake around his neck autonomously, looking up at him through your lashes. He moves infinitesimally closer, head bending a little. 
“Yeah, like that. But the thing is,” he says as he moves even closer, whispering, “it's more like… guidelines.” 
“Yeah?” 
It's all you can manage out, breathy and weak, practically quivering at his closeness. 
His nose rubs against the side of yours, mouths almost brushing, as he whispers again, even more quietly, the breath of it diffusing over your parted lips. 
“It's a good thing I like to break the rules.” 
Then his lips are crushed against yours, your strawberry lip balm surrendering itself, finding a new home on his full lips. Your tongue licks into his mouth thickly, laced with want. Eddie responds, exploring your mouth as the kiss turns dirtier by the second. Your chest is smashed against his, thighs gripping onto his hips. 
Eddie's head is reeling at the taste of you and the feel of your body desperately pressed against him. He winds his hand under your skirt to grab your perfect round ass, jamming you even closer. To his delight you moan in his mouth, lips sliding against his, slicked in spit. 
Your heart is thumping so loudly you can feel it in your throat. Or is it his? It doesn't matter, the kiss tearing any rational thoughts away. Snaking an arm around him to dig painted nails into his back, you roll your hips into him, an ache settling into your bones. 
The other of Eddie's rough hands travels audaciously to your chest, palming it over your clothes. You don't pull away, in fact your back is arching, searching for more. 
It's only then that he notices the time on his watch. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away, taking in the way your chest heaves, how your eyes are half lidded, as if you want to devour him whole. 
“Fuck, I'm sorry but I'm late, I really gotta go.” 
Huffing, you pout, and the plumpness of your bottom lip almost makes him say fuck it, screw Hellfire, but he knows he can't. 
“I really, really don't want to go, for the record. Last thing I want to do is walk back into school with a hard on right now.” 
You giggle breathlessly, risking a little look down. He's not lying. And he is packing. 
“Do you wanna come to mine later?” 
It's out of your mouth before you even think of the words, tongue working of its own accord. 
“Are you- for real?” 
You nod comically fast. He just shakes his head, stunned. 
“You know, I'm waiting for a Carrie moment or some shit.” 
“Eddie, I'm not gonna dump a bucket of pig's blood on you, I swear.” 
“Swear? On what?” 
“On, I dunno, on that code thing?” 
He laughs, hands rubbing up and down your sides as if he doesn't want to let you go. 
“You can't swear on that, we just broke it!” 
“Alright then, scouts honour?” 
“You were a girl scout?” 
“No.” 
He laughs again as you purse your lips, deep in thought. Suddenly, your eyes widen, and you hold your hand to your heart, the other forming the devil's horn sign. 
“I swear on Ozzy.” 
Fuck, Eddie thinks he must have made you in a lab. 
“Alright, alright, you best not be using his name in vain.” 
You rummage in your bag, grabbing a scrap of paper and scrawling an address on it. 
“Here. My er, my mom's out for the weekend and my dweeb brothers got some silly club thing then he's staying at a friend's, so…” 
Eddie's eyebrows raise and disappear into his hair. If this is just some fantasy and he's finally lost it, then he can deal with that. 
“Right, I will be there. I promise. Wild fuckin’ horses couldn't drag me away.” 
You scrunch the paper into his waiting hand, and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he's apologising again, having to run back to school before the guys send a search party. 
********************
He only gets a chance to look at your hastily written note when Hellfires finished, a hell of a lot quicker than his usual sessions. The guys are put out, complaining about only managing to go for a supply run and deal with some bandits, but for once he doesn't give a shit. 
In his van, he's reading and rereading your note. Maybe he's got it wrong, your messy handwriting is difficult to read after all. Or maybe he was right before and this is all some joke at his expense. 
Hope is what gets him there, that and the traces of strawberry lip balm that still linger on his lips. He pulls up to the house and knocks on the door. 
You answer, still in your clothes from earlier, though Eddie notices immediately that you've taken off your bra. It throws him for a moment, the shape of your nipples singing a melody directly to his dick, but he recovers. 
“You live… here?” He asks, completely surprised. 
“Yes?” The way he says it you almost question if you're the one in the wrong house. 
“And your last name is…?” 
“Henderson.”
“Fuck.” He laughs it out, biting his lip. 
“Is that a problem?” You're entirely thrown by his reaction, but gesture at him to come in, closing the door behind him. 
“Dustin’s your little brother.” He says it like a known fact.
“How do you know Dust for Brains? Wait-” 
You step backwards, both hands held to your mouth in shock. 
“You're Eddie?? The Eddie??” 
“The one and only, sweetheart.” 
“Shit, Dustin does not shut up about you. I thought, well I thought you'd be some nerdy, awkward loser.” 
“Well, I'm a lot of things.” 
Laughs erupt from you in an unstoppable volcano. 
“Dustins gonna kill me.” 
Eddie shakes his head. 
“No, Dustins gonna kill me. How come he's never mentioned you?” 
“He's not exactly my biggest fan. Plus, he probably wanted to avoid- this.” 
Eddie deflates a little, the hope of kissing you again dwindling by the second. 
“If you want me to go-” 
“Oh hell no,” you grab his hand, keeping him there with you, “this is hilarious, he's gonna freak. I can't wait. You wanna drink, or something to eat? Or we can just-” 
“Wait, you seriously don't care?” 
“Nope. You're too hot.” 
Eddie blushes, not used to girls being so brazen with him. Smiling, you tell him to take a seat and grab some beers from the fridge. He takes his jacket off and throws it on a chair. When you return, you're laughing yet again as you hand him his beer. 
“How the hell did I miss that?” You point. He follows your eyes, to the Hellfire t-shirt he's wearing. 
“Too busy staring at my pretty face?” He suggests, winking at you. 
Settling down next to him, you flick the TV on to some random b movie. Nonchalantly, you place a hand on his knee, stroking the little bare patch of skin as you look at the film playing. 
“Maybe I was too busy thinking about what's underneath it.” 
You say it offhand, a casual statement, but it's got Eddie nearly choking on his mouthful of beer. 
“Shit you are nothing like your brother, are you?” 
Turning to smirk at him, you respond, “I fucking well hope so.” 
Then Eddie's thoughts fly straight out the window when your hand lands on his chest, nails raking him through the fabric. Suddenly, the temperature of the room is stifling, or is it just the feel of your body against his? He reaches tentatively to cup your cheek, rubbing a calloused thumb on your chin, eyes boring into yours for confirmation. Breath hitches in your throat; you lean in closer, gaze flickering to his perfect mouth and back up. 
“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me, Eddie?” 
You smirk, but it's wiped from your face immediately by his mouth smashing into yours. It's so forceful you have to fight to keep upright, hand fisting into his shirt as some sort of anchor. 
As you pull away, his eyes widen, wondering if he did something wrong. He looks like a little puppy. 
“Easy Eddie, we've got all night.” 
All night? Eddie has decided that he must have got hit on the head today. Maybe he was jumped after all, and now he's in a coma, playing out some elaborate fantasy. 
He settles back into the cushions, swigging his beer and failing to focus on the movie playing, his leg restlessly bouncing. 
You look perfectly at ease, knees curled up on the seat. What he doesn't know is that your heart is pumping blood so fast that you're starting to feel a little dizzy from it, purposefully slowing your breath to keep your calm. 
Once your beer is finished you've decided that enough is enough. A part of you wanted to take this slow; he seemed like such a nice guy, as well as being into your kind of music, and hot as sin. Unfortunately, it seems your pussy has other ideas, already banging its own heartbeat like a dinner bell. 
“Eddie?”
“Hmm?” He tries to make it sound casual, but he's wound so tight it's almost a strangled noise. Nursing a semi since he saw you in the woods earlier, now it's straining against his jeans in a futile attempt to be near you. 
He looks so damn nervous, and it gives you the confidence you need to swing your leg over his and straddle him. Eager hands land immediately on your hips, thumbs pressing hard to keep you there. 
This time, you lean in. Your kiss is fire, tongue burning hot and heavy in his mouth. Eddie groans into the kiss, rolling desperation from his mouth to yours. He's breathing so hard it's whistling through his nose, clouding your cheek with condensation. 
It almost feels like a competition, both tongues duelling, determined to unravel the other. Lips swollen and blood filled, your mouth tries to keep up with his, spit gathering at the edges. You'd be self conscious about it if you weren't so damn turned on. 
Eddie's hands roam all over, grasping at your ass under your skirt, slipping inside the thin material of your panties at the back, until he runs a thumb just next to your underwear but this time dangerously close to your sex. You moan onto his tongue, your own hands winding into his hair, pulling harshly to spur him on. 
He can't concentrate on the hard tingle your fingers cause to run all over his scalp, not when slips his fingers past the cotton barrier and he runs them up and down your slippery slit. Mind entirely encased in a pink fog of lust, you realise your mumbling in his mouth. 
“Please, please, please-” 
The corners of his mouth turn up at the sound, thumb seeking out your clit to rub circles on and around it, your arousal causing it to slip and slide. You're dizzy, hot all over, pussy aching for something inside. 
Eddie's obsessed with the feel of you, the heat emanating from your cunt, but most of all with the sounds you make. They'd be pornographic, if they weren't so fucking real. Needy, hoarse moans, peppered with little gasps and whimpers that are making his cock twitch with each slip of his thumb. 
Gliding a finger inside, he watches as your head rolls back, a strangled groan falling from your kiss bitten lips. You're practically riding his hand, bouncing your tits so close to his face that he's in a trance. As if you can hear his prayers, you pull your shirt off, fighting with the tight material until you can shake it off your arm. 
He sees the glimpse of a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a dagger directly in your cleavage, which he momentarily thinks is really hot, but then he's gone. Your bare chest is a masterpiece, perfect tits jostling with each bounce of your thighs. He latches his mouth to a nipple, tonguing and sucking on it like he needs it to breathe. In fact he almost forgets to, pulling his mouth off to take a gasping breath and latch onto the other. 
He drags his mouth away when he feels you tightening impossibly hard around his fingers and leans back just in time to see the show. Your climax is violent, grinding into his fingers hard and rough until suddenly you're screaming his name, nails breaking the skin of his neck as you cling on for dear life. Your release engulfs your body in a flash of fire, singeing each nerve and causing you to convulse in his grip. Eddie can barely move, his fingers straining hard to work you through your orgasm, so much so that the tendons of his arm hurt, but he doesn't care. He keeps on curling them until you physically grab his arm to still him. 
His dripping fingers are released with a sucking sound as he grins at you smugly. Not for long though, not with your chest heaving like that and the way you're biting your lip. You yank at his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and relishing in the exposed skin by lathing your tongue over his collar bone. 
“Nice tats.” You breathe onto his skin between sucks and nips. 
“Same to you,” he stumbles out in a gasp as a particular sharp bite to his neck shoots a lightning bolt of heat down his spine. 
“You haven't seen all of them,” you reply, nibbling at his earlobe. 
He's never wanted to hunt for tattoos more in his whole life. 
“Fuck, you are a dream.” 
His teeth bite down on your shoulder and you whimper, grinding down on his rock hard bulge. Enveloping his lips in another urgent kiss, and another, until you can break away long enough for one word. 
“Bedroom?” 
“Jesus fucking Christ yes.” 
He stands, still holding you, knocking a beer bottle to the floor. You cling to him with your legs as he walks backwards, sending a table lamp flying in the process. It's inconsequential; your head is fighting through a cloud of need, nothing can find its way through but touch and taste. 
In the hallway, he slams your back into the wall, pressing you hard against it as he writhes his tongue in your mouth again. A picture frame falls, you just about hear the tinkling of glass but it's not important. That's tomorrow's problem. 
Unhooking yourself from his clutches for a moment, you drag him by the front of his jeans and yank him into a doorway, gasping for breath, grasping at flesh. You practically punch the lightswitch to turn it on, the thought that you need to see him just about making it through the horny mist. Once inside he barely has a chance to take in his surroundings before you're falling to your knees and undoing his belt with impatient fingers. 
“Woah, baby, you don't need to-” 
“Shut the fuck up Eddie I wanna blow you.” 
Eddie rubs his hands over his face and then compulsively strokes his neck just to keep some composure. If he thinks about your words for a second longer he's sure he'll bust right in his pants. 
You work his fly and pull his jeans and boxers down swiftly, his turgid cock flying free and whacking his stomach, decorating it with a pearl of precum. It feels heavy in your hands as you rub him up and down, watching the soft skin move with each pass, like silk wrapped around a steel bar. 
Taking him into your mouth, you twirl your tongue around his head, licking up its salty sweetness, sucking lightly. Eddie groans, torn between covering his eyes and holding you in place, so he does a bit of both, until you start taking him deeper and deeper without gagging. 
His eyes snap open to see you staring straight at him, nose nestling in his coarse pubic hair, eyes wide and wet and innocent, mouth stretched full of him, and he feels his balls tighten. 
“Fuck stop stop, please.” 
He practically bends in half to get you off of his dick. Giving him a smug smile of your own, you delicately wipe the spit gathered at the corners of your mouth with a thumb. 
“You OK there champ?” 
“You are gonna kill me sweetheart.” 
He's heaving, trying to control his breath, eyes darting from your face, to your bare chest and back up. Standing up, you unzip your skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving you in your tiny pink underwear with a very noticeable wet patch, and your thigh high socks. There's another tattoo hiding just out of sight, playing peekaboo over the top of your panties. 
Something about seeing you so innocent and yet so naughty flicks a switch in his brain. Before he can think he's pushing you backwards and you hit the mattress behind with a thud, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 
Which is fucking perfect in Eddie's opinion because he needs to taste you right now otherwise he might die. 
You both fight to take your underwear off, but he covers your hand in his own when you start rolling your socks down. 
“No. Leave them on.” 
It's husky and dominant, a steely look behind those soft brown eyes you haven't seen yet. Well. Filing that away for reference. You lay there sweetly, propped up on your elbows to watch as his tongue squirms against you, making out with your cunt just as passionately as he kissed you. 
He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks and for a moment you can see God. 
“Holy fuck! Eddie!” He groans back, lost in the taste of your cunt. He wants to write a poem about it, a song, a fucking haiku, anything to immortalise the prettiest pussy with the sweetest flavour. 
“Eddie, get up here!” He's not listening, licking and sucking, almost getting as much pleasure as you are, but you need him inside you right now before you combust; you're sure of it. 
In the end you grab a chunk of his hair and pull him upward, sliding him over your trembling body, and you hold his face an inch from yours. 
“Eddie, I need you to fuck me, now.” 
His leaking tip is rubbing against your swollen clit; he takes it in his hand to line it up, when somewhere out of the pussy drunk haze he remembers something important. 
“Do you have protection?”
“I'm on the pill, is that-” 
It clearly is OK. It's possibly the best four words Eddie's ever heard. 
Your unfinished sentence morphs into a drawn out moan as Eddie pushes inside you, stretching you out until he's fully sheathed. As you whimper and whine at the feeling, Eddie stops, just for a moment, to hold your cheek and press a soft kiss to your lips. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
For some reason that takes you entirely by surprise, eyes wide and wet at his honesty. 
“Yeah? You're really handsome, Eddie.” 
The smile he shoots you is warm and genuine, lighting up that animate face of his with an inner glow. You roll your hips upward and take joy in the fact that he wasn't expecting it, eyebrows knitting in shock as a litany of swear words spill from his mouth. 
Your smirk is short lived when he hikes your leg around his waist and starts thrusting devastatingly deep, so deep it's like he's in your guts trying to root out the source of the burning desire at the pit of your stomach. 
“Holy- oh God, Eddie!” 
Moaning loudly, you press hot, cushy kisses to him between your stream of noises, forehead resting on his. Eddie's smiling, he can't help it. Just the joy of being with you like this, the feel of you losing it because of him, and the tightness of your pretty cunt have him in paradise. 
“Feels- feels so- oh fuck- so good, inside you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ tight, I-I can feel you shaking, you close?” 
Words escape you. All you can do is cling to his back and nod, nails clawing into him with shivering intensity. Eddie thrusts into you harder; all you can do is cling on for your life, arms and legs nearly suffocating him. The telltale tingle of your release is nearly burning your skin, prickling over each downy hair making it stand on end. 
The heat is immense, tension gripping your legs as you quake, and writhe, and whimper, until your climax flies out of you, shooting out of every pore and forcing tears from your eyes. Your vision turns bright white for a moment, until all the tension leaves your muscles and you flop back on the bed. 
Eddie doesn't understand how you keep on getting hotter, but it doesn't matter. You let him inside of you, raw, and his head is still reeling from that. Each little sound, each flex of your constricting walls is pushing him to ecstasy; in fact he's staving it off so he can enjoy you like this for a little while longer. 
Getting up on his knees, he pulls you toward him by your thighs, guiding you to roll your hips as he pumps into you. This angle is so much better; he can see all of your incredible body laid out before him, tits bouncing with each thrust. Your small hand finds his forearm, just holding it lightly, as you whine. 
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” 
It's high pitched, mumbled and nearly incoherent. He's not even sure you know you're doing it, but it's what pushes him over the edge. He feels the tightness in his balls as his length grows impossibly hard.
“Sweetheart, where-” He manages through gritted teeth. 
“Please cum in me.”
Eddie's four new favourite words. He grips hard to your thighs, hard enough to bruise, as he groans and swears his release out. You feel it deep inside, throbbing out of him, when he finally collapses forward. You hold onto each other, tongues rolling into each other's mouths, kissing and kissing and kissing. You kiss until it hurts, until your mouth is chapped and sore, until you need air, and water. 
“Fuck, Eddie, that was… sorry, if I er, came on a bit, strong?” 
Eddie just laughs, pressing his body as tightly against yours as he can. 
“Please don't ever apologise for wanting to fuck my brains out.” 
You laugh, kissing his cheek.
“When you put it like that, fair enough. Right, get off me, I need to clean up.” 
“I can take care of you-”
“Yeah, and I'm a grown woman who needs to piss, so please?” 
You roll your wrists, flinging your hands in desperate circles. He surrenders, pulling off you and rolling onto his back, more than happy to watch your naked form sway out of the room. 
Eddie does a little wiggle dance when you leave the room, punching the air with glee. He starts looking at your room, since he had no time to see it earlier. There's a tin on the bedside table that looks remarkably similar to what he has at home, and an honest to goodness lava lamp next to it. Unable to help himself, he flicks it on at the plug, waiting for it to warm up. 
“Sweetheart, you mind if I roll?” He calls out. 
“Sure, my shits on the side table, just light the incense on the dresser.” 
Eddie seeks his boxers out and puts them on for his modesty, though it seems you may be a little, lacking, in that department. Not that he's complaining, far from it. He's obsessed with your demeanour, your confidence. 
Once the incense is lit, he rolls a joint, fussing over it to make sure it's perfect for you. Just as he pulls the little twisted paper end off, you walk back in. 
You'd taken the time to go to the restroom, clean yourself up, and find his t-shirt that was abandoned in the TV room. The hellfire logo is tight across your chest, the shirt barely covering your sex where you stand. The smile you shoot to him is absolutely smothered in sin. 
“That's, fuck, you do not play fair, sweetheart.” 
Eyes wide, eyebrows round and innocent, your mouth falls into a perfect o. 
“I have no idea what you're talking about baby.” 
Eddie can't speak. If he does, he'll give everything away. How wonderful you are, how that tightrope of dirty and sweet that you walk with ease twists his insides up. How he never wants to go home. 
Instead, he passes the unlit smoke to you, and holds out his zippo like a sacrificial offering. You sit side saddle on the bed, knees together, barely covering your throbbing core, as you take the rolled joint gratefully and spark it. Once you've had a few tokes you pass it back. 
“So, this was…” He widely gestures his arm, like it can encompass everything he's felt over the last few hours. 
“You wanna leave, Eddie?” You ask. A genuine question, cocking your head to the side, as he takes a few pulls of the smoke and hands it back. 
“I thought, well, I thought you'd want me to go.” 
“Eddie, I said we had all night. If you're done with me then-” 
“Oh, oh fuck no, I thought you'd be done with me!” 
You giggle and climb into his lap as he grasps at the flesh of your ass desperately. 
“Then stay. Stay with me.” 
Your mouth presses kisses to his jaw as your hand winds itself into his boxers, seeking out his hardening length. Eddie hisses through his teeth. 
“Fuck, I'll stay, as long as you fuckin’ want, w-whatever you want, Holy shit!” 
Laughing, you puff on the smoke with one hand, and tease him relentlessly with the other. 
For the second, third, or maybe even fourth time today, he's thinking he's in way over his head, but he can't find it in him to care. 
********************
Eddie blinks hard, squishing his eyes shut, then opens them again. Nothing has changed. There's still an unfamiliar fabric hanging on the ceiling in front of him; some rainbow tie dye mural with a painted mariguana leaf in the middle of it that he's never seen before. When he turns his head, he sees a lava lamp, still on, running bubbles of fake lava up it too loose and fast, and then he remembers. 
Flicking the switch to stop the lamp's heat, he turns over to see you. You're snuggled into the crook of your own elbow, face perfectly at ease. Your pretty mouth has the hint of a pout to it, daring him to plant a kiss. 
He wants to do something for you. Anything. Right now, he'd throw a parade, organise a concert to sing to your cunt, hold a benefit to make you believe how hard he's fallen for the colour of your eyes, but maybe making you a coffee in bed will do. 
So he wiggles out of bed in his boxers, and puts his jeans on for good measure in case your mom decides this is a good moment to turn up, and starts busying himself with the kitchen appliances. There's an ancient coffee maker that shakes and sputters to life. Whilst that is going on, he takes a slug of milk out of the carton in the fridge. 
That is, until he sees Dustin from the side of his eye. 
Dustin looks very confused. His eyes trail from the messed up couch cushions, to the beer bottles on the floor, the out of place lamp, and the broken picture frame, and finally land on Eddie, still bemused and befuddled. 
“Eddie… did you… break into my house?” 
Dustin clearly doesn't believe his own conclusion as his eyes scout across the available options and still come up empty. 
“Sup, Dust Buster!” 
Dustin swivels to see you exit your new bedroom, still wearing Eddie's hellfire t-shirt and a pair of panties. You perch nonchalantly on the kitchen side as Eddie grins, making his way between your knees. 
“You've got to be fucking kidding me! Eddie!” 
“Henderson, honest, I didn't know until-” 
“Until you were in my fucking house???” 
“OK fair, but it was a bit… late then. Sorry dude.” 
‘Sorry? What about the code?” Come on, she's my sister! And you!” He says, pointing at you accusingly, “you were in school for one day. One! Then you sleep with the one guy I look up to!” 
“The codes, more like… guidelines. Don't shit your pants, you've still got Harrington, Jeez.” 
“Well, you shouldn't be such a- a scarlet woman! A hussy!” 
Uncaring, you shake your head back and away, laughing at the names. Eddie, however, is not having any of it. 
“Hey, Henderson, you better show your sister some respect.” 
“Yeah? Or what?” He dares, forgetting who he's talking to. 
“I might be fucking your sister, but I'm still your DM. You want your green adventurers running into Tiamat next session?” 
The way he curves his lips, the confident stance he's giving, it stirs tiny fires in your gut and dares unthought of kinks to come out and play. 
“Alright, alright, don't TPK us, I'm leaving, alright?” 
Dustin turns on his heel. Before he disappears entirely, you make out the start of him begging, ‘Lucas, do you copy, I have a Code Red! Repeat! Code Red!” 
“so, what now, Dungeon Master?” 
“Mmph,” Eddie sounds out, low in his throat, “ whatever you want, scarlet woman.” 
Taglist- If you want to be added or removed, please PM me!
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @joejoequinnquinn
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whore-ibly-hot · 9 months
Text
Yan!Mean-Girls x Fem!Reader
"Just Girly Things"
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Bullying (Not at Reader), name callung, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, masturbation, sex toys, mean girls, dumbification, buying affection.
(AN: I'm not super proud of this one, but did my best. Never written a fem!Yan before.)
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The sound of clicking keypads and the occasional scoff can be heard in Maggie Robinsons loft bedroom. As the most popular girl at Delta High, it was important her room look as perfect as her. She chews on the strawberry flavored gum in her mouth, scrolling through her phone. She scoffs. "Sasha, did you see Jenny Taylor's latest post?" Sasha gags and nods. "Totally a spray-on tan." Sasha says, and Maggie nods. "She looks like a fucking orange. I bet you that nerd she's been with, his dick is that same shade right now..." The two cackle.
"Is he sick?" The third and final member of the group of cheerleaders asks. "Why would his dick be orange?" Sasha sighs, and puts a hand on her friends knee. "Lindsey, his dick is orange because her fake tan would rub off on it. It isn't like, permanently that color. It was a joke." Sasha explains. Lindsey pauses and tilts her head, before giggling. "Oh, I get it!" She claps her hands together, shaking the sequinned bracelet around her wrist as she does so. Maggie grins and roll her eyes at Lindsey's air-headed nature. Luckily, Sasha is always around to explain he jokes, because Maggie won't. She likes to watch her dumb subordinate work things out slowly.
"What about you, newbie? Ever had a fake tan?" She whips her head over to face you. You gulp as the school's queen bee sets her sights on you. You aren't sure why she seemed so fixated on you since you joined Delta High. Maybe it's because you were pretty, or talented, or just really obedient, but she's been dragging you around like a little purse dog since you met her, with Sasha and Lindsey flanking you both at all times. "Um, no." You mumble. She nods, and says "Good, you already have good skin. I mean, you should get a little more tan, but not with that shitty spray stuff. Or, y'know, you'll turn some jocks dick orange." The three laugh. "Because the tan rubs off!" Lindsey giggles. Maggie rolls her eyes, and groans. "Yes, Lindsey. Thanks for explaining." Lindsey looks down.
"Speaking of, have any of the guys at school caught your eye? I mean, like, appropriate ones for you. Not a fucking mathlete dork or something." She asks. "Not really. I've never actually had a boyfriend." The three girls freeze, and gasp. "Seriously?" "You've never had a boyfriend?" Maggie asks. She waves frantically, trying to get you to sit beside her on her bed. "Why not?" She asks. "Do you have a sex disease? Like... like cancer?" Lindsey asks, eyes wide. "Sex cancer, seriously?" Sasha says, glancing at her blonde friend, who only shrugs. "No one was ever interested, I guess." You grimace. You hadn't ever been popular, only making Maggie's interest in you more jarring. You had finally gotten a peek at what it was like to be school royalty.
"Not interested? Aw, you poor baby." Maggie pouts. "That's why you have us, you know? To doll you up, and keep you popular, that way you can have anyone you want." Sasha chirps. "I can't believe no one ever tried to get with you, you're like, really pretty." You smile awkwardly. "Thanks, Lindsey."
Maggie scoots closer, and you bite back a gasp when you feel her cold hands on your tank top, cupping your breasts. "Honestly. The jocks at school are horndogs, they'll stick it in anything, I'm surprised you haven't gotten any attention because of these." She bites her lips as her eyes wander down to your cleavage. "They're natural, right?" You nod. You feel the bed dip behind you, as Sasha and Lindsey join the two of you on the bed. "So you've never kissed anybody?" Sasha asks, tilting her head as her curls bounce. "No, I've kissed a boy, back in church in like, middle school or something." You chuckle, shrugging and rolling your eyes.
"What about kissing girls?" Your eyes widen. You shake your head as you feel the three girls gazes resting heavily on you. "I haven't. Why do you ask?" Maggie grins. "You could try with us. You're one of us now, you've gotta live a little. I mean, you haven't even had a boyfriend, or done it with someone. Let us help you." She coos. She leans in, and you gulp. "Don't you have a boyfriend, Maggie? Jason, right?" She asks. Maggie nods. "Yeah, but like, he won't care. He'll probably think this is hot or something. Besides, it's just girls helping each other out. It's not like a random hookup, we're all friends here." She feigns hurt at your hesitance, pouting. "Don't you like us?" Lindsey whines, giving you puppy dog eyes as she rests her head on your shoulder from behind. "No, I like you guys, it's just-" You look at Lindsey. "Alright, we can do this." You sigh. Maggie grins, and puts her hands on your waist, pressing her chest to yours. "Good, it's not even weird. It's like, just girly things." She explains. She bites your lip playfully, making you blush as she finally presses her lips to yours. As you kiss the school's queen bee, you can taste the light strawberry flavor of her gum, and as she pulls away a string of sticky lip gloss connects your lips for a moment.
"See? You did good, especially for someone who's only kissed once before." Maggie coos. Lindsey pops up to kiss your cheek. "Your skin is so soft!" She giggles, nuzzling your neck. Sasha sits to the side, waiting for orders from Maggie. "Lemme see your chest." Maggie begins to tug up your tight, white tanktop, grinning when she sees that you have no bra on. "No bra, huh? Maybe you wanted us to do this?" She teases. "Pretty..." She circles her fingers around your left nipple, watching it pebble up. "I bet you're sensitive, huh?" Sasha asks. You can't speak, and only nod. Maggie's cold hands make you shiver, as she gropes your breasts with a wicked grin. She reaches down and puts Lindsey's hands on your breasts. "Lindsey, keep playing with her tits, okay? I'm gonna move a little lower." Lindsey nods, fondling your breasts from behind. "I'll try not to scratch you, my nails are kinda long right now..." She giggles. Maggie hikes up your skirt, keeping it around your waist. She licks her lips as she touches the black panties covering your cunt. "Are these from that department store on 9th?" She asks. "Uh, yeah?" She rolls her eyes. "You don't need to be wearing that shit, that's for people like Jenny Taylor, not girls like us. Tell you what-" She leans closer to your ear, kissing the shell of it. "You make me cum, and I'll take you downtown tomorrow and buy you something cute. That's sure to help you get a guy." She obviously has no intentions of getting you a boyfriend, considering the way her gaze turns possessive. Still, she can't deny that she likes the idea of seeing you in something lacey, especially something she bought you. She notices from the corner of her eye how Sasha is squirming, clearly eager to act, rubbing her thighs together subconsciously.
"Sasha?" Her head perks up immediatly, and she stills. "Y-yes, Maggie?" She pants. "Go get my wand, the pink one." Sasha nods, and scurries over to Maggie's closet, digging around for something. She manages to pull out a pink wand, with a microphone-like rubber tip. You can feel Maggies fingers trying to pull your panties to the side. "You ever played with yourself?" She whispers. You nod. "Yeah, a few times." You admit. "How?" She presses an index against your aroused clit. You gasp. "Fingers! I use my fingers, inside me." You moan. She pouts again, as Sasha hands her the wand. "Well, no wonder your little clit is so swollen, you've not been giving it any attention." She coos. "Don't worry, I've got just the thing." She takes the wand from Sasha. "It feels so good." Sasha says, her eyes full of sincerity. You wonder just how many times these girls have done this sort of thign. Does anyone else at school know?
You are torn from your thoughts when you hear a whirring sound. "What's that gonna do?" You ask. "It vibrates, and I'm just gonna press it right up against your clit, okay? It's gonna feel so fucking good..." She groans. "But, I'm going to enjoy something too. You know, for being such a good friend, and taking in a little newbie. You watch as Maggie mounts your thigh, gasping when you feel her slick pussy press against your leg. Has she not been wearing underwear this whole time? Your whole body flinches when you feel a pusling wave in your lower. "A-ah, shit." You grip the sheets of Maggie's bed tightly. Somehow, the stimulation to your clit makes Lindsey's pawing at your chest feel even more pleasurable. Maggie chuckles as she begins to grind herself against your thigh. "Feels good, huh? You like that? Your pretty new friends taking good care of you? Putting a pretty vibrator on your clit?" Her condescedngin tone makes you blush in shame. After a while, her moans grow in volume too. "Fuck, even just your thighs feel good. Maybe, god- maybe soon I'll ride your pussy like this." She groans. "God, not even Jason makes me feel this hot, this wet. That little limp-dick, can't even make me finish." She tilts her head back. "Sasha, take a photo, m' boutta cum." Sasha pales. "I don't... um, can I use you phone, mines dead?" Maggie doesn't open her eyes, but Sasha can sense her rage. "I don't care, just taking the fuckin' photo, I'm so close. C'mon, baby. Cum on my vibrator, I'll buy you something, anything, just do it." You weren't expecting to her Maggie beg for anything in your lifetime, much less for you to cum. Overwhelmed, you feel your orgasm hit hard. "M-maggie, I'm, oh..." She nods rapidly as she practically bounces on your thigh. "Yeah, right there, I'm cumming to..." She pants.
You close your eyes, but still sense a flash of light from Sasha snapping a photo. As your legs shake from the feeling, Maggie casually dismounts your thighs, sitting down on the bed beside you. She kisses your forehead. "You did so good. I'll get you something so cute to wear to school next week." She flips her hair and acts nonchalant, as if she hadn't just held a sex toy to your cunt while she rode your thigh like her life depended on it. "Sasha, let me see that photo." Sasha shows her the phone, and she grimaces. "Ugh, I look so fucking pale. Put a Sepia filter on it or something." Before Sasha can, Lindsay snatches the phone, and lets out a whine.
"Only my hands are in it! What the hell, Sasha!"
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3K notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 4 months
Note
So did jock!yuji ask weird girl!reader to wear his jersey the first time, or did she just pull up in it as a surprise...
࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #3. team jersey.
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about. the all star jock asks his freaky girlfriend to start wearing his jersey to games. it shouldn’t be a big deal, right? since she’s always asking to live in his skin and all ! ( 2K )
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive, college!au, characters aged up to 20s, make outs. brief mentions of self consciousness, reader wants to live in yuuji’s skin n he accepts it, supportive jock bf!itadori, weird gf + fem!reader.
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“so, i’ve been thinkin’,” 
from your place at your desk, you spin around in your chair to face yuuji, your boyfriend, with a curious smile. thinking things through isn’t exactly yuuji itadori’s forte — he’s one for jumping into things headfirst and doing whatever feels right in the moment. he’s always been like that, aside from two major occasions.
the first time he’d asked you out and the time he’d asked you to be his girlfriend. 
those were two decisions he’d thought through extensively.
“thinking, huh?” you muse out loud, standing up to stretch your limbs. you’ve been staring at your laptop for what seems like millennia to finish a science paper for your biology class, and yuuji is supposed to be studying for one of his econ exams coming up but you decide that you need a break…and a kiss from your boyfriend at that. “what about?” 
he’s already waiting for you with open arms on your bed by the time you make your way over to him — it’s a silly sight, the view of your big, strong, athletic boyfriend nestled amongst your mountain of plushies from obscure animanga series and marvel marvel movies. but it fills you with joy to have yuuji there, amongst all of the other things you love. accepting them with ease. 
“‘bout you,” yuuji mumbles through a pout, waiting impatiently for a kiss as you snuggle into his muscular arms and rest your head on his plush chest. 
reaching up, you rap your knuckles against his skull — brushing tufts of soft baby pink hair. “you’re corny. you should have been thinking about your exams.” 
“mmyeah, but i got bored, and you’re too pretty to not be on my mind twenty-four-seven.” comes the jock’s sassy reply as he decides he no longer wants to wait, swooping down to steal a kiss from your precious lips. yuuji gently grasps your chin between a thumb and forefinger to coax more of a kiss out of you, his tongue affectionately rolling over yours while you squirm and mewl in his hold. you’re flustered, and embarrassed, and he really couldn’t care less. he likes having you like this underneath him.
when he finally lets you come up for air, itadori’s calloused thumb swipes under the swell of your bottom lip to wipe away the traces of wetness he’s left there and grind, slow and sexy, when you try to hide your face in your sleeves. “so as i was saying,” he mumbles lowly, causing your body to break out in a set of yuuji-induced shivers. “i was thinking about you.” 
“yeah?” you whisper meekly, taking a peek up at his handsome face and honey brown eyes that make you feel all gooey and warm at the centre, where your heart is. like a marshmallow. 
yuuji nods, tugging you into his side again, stopping you from rolling away out of shyness. “mhm,” he purrs. “been thinking about you coming to one of my games in my jersey,” he trails off, this time turning into the shy one as he casts his gaze aside. “if you’d want to.”
you’ve seen yuuji’s jerseys — the ones that come with the territory of being on your university’s soccer team. they look good on him, always, just about stretching over the firm muscle of his arms and chest. you know that if you were to wear the soft, cotton material — you’d surely drown in it. swamped by the cosy, fresh scent of your boyfriend and wrapped up in all of his love for you. 
rolling over so that you’re the one caging yuuji in this time, you bite down on your kiss swollen lips hesitantly. “is that a requirement of all athlete girlfriends then?”
“n-no! i just…” itadori coughs to clear his throat, realising that it’s not so fun being in the receiving end of such teasing. his hand on your waist traverses upwards, splaying out against the curve of your spine. “i want — i would like to see you in my clothes at my games. i dunno, show you off a little? with my name across your back, it’s like, people will know i belong to you and you belong to me? if that makes sense…” 
“belong to each other, huh?” you walk your fingers up his chest, drawing a circle over the place where his big heart is supposed to be. “we’re not objects, yuuji. you’re not an object to me.”
the tone of the conversation shifts as itadori sits up, causing you to shuffle back onto your knees — his hazel brown eyes sweep your face, reminding you of an amber with the way they catch the light.  “i-i know that. of course not,” yuuji whispers delicately, as though not to hurt you. “you’re not an object to me either. you’re everything to me. i just think…it would make me feel good? if you wore something of mine? like, just knowing you have it. i dunno — it’s stupid.”
it’s almost biological, a genetically programmed reaction — the way you reach out instantly to comfort your boyfriend. your hand finds his amongst the cotton peaks and streets formed in your bed sheets, giving it a firm squeeze. yuuji offers you a half hearted smile in response.
“you don’t have to —“ 
“ — i don’t know if i’d look good in it. your jersey,” you breathe out before your boyfriend can finish his sentence. both of you pause, itadori doesn’t push, giving you the space and time to express yourself. “i want to wear it. i just, i know i’m not like the other teammates’ partners. i’m not…peppy and enthusiastic like them a-and i don’t know if your jersey would even suit me…” 
the hand that you’re holding reaches up to cup your chin once more and your gaze leers over to yuuji, who only chuckles fondly in response. “of course you’re not like the other partners. you’re special, and you’re mine. i don’t need you to be anything else but the way that you are, okay? i love you.” yuuji has always been direct and worn his heart on his sleeves with his words already formed on the tip of his tongue. some might think he’s dumb, especially for a jock, but he’s the most emotionally intelligent person you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
you know now, what he means when he says he’s the luckiest guy in the world, for being with you. 
you feel the exact same way as he does. 
“i love you back,” you blurt, making yuuji beam at you warmly and kiss your nose. “i’ll wear it.” you tug on the fabric, feeling the fleeciness beneath your fingertips along with the warmth of yuuji’s body. “are you sure you won’t miss it?” you explore the material further as it stays wrapped around his bulky frame until you brush over the plasticky vinyl that forms the letters of his name and the number one on the back of the jersey.
i-t-a-d-o-r-i
your itadori.
why wouldn’t you want to show everyone that he’s yours just as much as you are his.
“i’ve got plenty back at my dorm, coach satoru made sure to splurge in that aspect, besides if i give it to you now… when i get it back, it’ll smell like you!” yuuji pulls back from you ever so slightly, and rolls his eyes at your pout when he does so. “then i’ll just keep changing them out,” it only takes you a second to realise that he’s stripping his jersey off, and your eyes greedily shoot to the small, exposed slit of his tummy as he does so. “perv.” comes his teasing voice once his head pops through the other end — salmon pink hair mussed and ruffled out of place. 
your pout deepens. “i am not a perv!” 
“mhm, yeah. sure you aren’t. now c’mere,” itadori manhandles you into straddling his lap — your knees sinking into the comforter on your bed and your hands hovering above his broad shoulders, hesitant to touch the pure muscle that bursts from the sleeves of his plain white t-shirt. “i don’t believe for a second that you don’t get off on this,” he goes on to mock you, smirking up at you despite how you glare at him. “arms up, beautiful.” 
through the haze of your mind (deployed by a very flirty yuuji itadori) you’re able to follow his command — shakily raising both arms above your head and allowing your boyfriend to pull his team jersey over it. “who’s more of a perv now? you’re giving me your dirty clothes to wear.” is your weak argument, a defence mechanism to protect yourself from getting too flustered. 
it doesn’t work, however, yuuji has mastered the art of making you nervous. 
the material of his team jersey swamps you, it’s almost like you’re drowning in an ocean of yuuji’s scent as it wraps around you, keeping you safe and secure. 
“it’s not dirty, i just put it on today!” he says petulantly. “if you’re gonna be like that, then give it back.” 
“n-no!” you squeak, tucking your nose under the collar with hooded eyes. it smells like yuuji, smells like home. “i like it. it’s like i’m wearing you.” 
“the next best thing after my skin, right?” he makes reference to your constant comments about living inside his skin, wanting to be closer to yuuji than humanly possible. others find it weird, but to the jock, it’s endearing. even if it means being swatted in the chest for joking about your unusual displays of affection. “c’mon! i’m jokin’, i’m jokin’!” yuuji laughs between each smack of your palm against his peck. eventually he falls back into the sheets, this time taking you with him so that you’re snuggled on his chest once more. “so…you’re coming to the game this friday? in my jersey?” he asks tentatively after you’ve both calmed down.
nodding, you curl into the pink-haired jock further, as if trying to fuse with him. “where do you want me to sit?”
“not with the others, i know they’re a little rowdier than you’d like. you could try coach, but he likes to pester you.” your boyfriend muses wistfully. everything is warm and comfortable — the steady beat of his heart beneath your head, the hand that he lazily drags up and down your spine, the heat of his jersey and his body under yours. you could sleep right now — even if you do have to study. 
a quiet yawn escapes your lips and you wriggle further into the oversized jersey, lulled into a slumber by the presence and scent of your perfect jock boyfriend. “will professor geto be there?”
yuuji shrugs, squeezing you close to help you drift off. “to oogle satoru, probably.” 
“then i’ll sit with him, and we can oogle our boys together.” 
“awwh, baby, you wanna oogle little old me?” he coos in response, his lips finding the crown of your head. 
something about his sugary tone makes you shudder in yuuji’s hold. you’ll never get over how much he teases you, how much you loves you but it makes you giddy to know that he’s yours. and that he wants you to wear his jersey, so he can already the news to the whole world.  
or what feels like the whole world.
“i do yuuji, i want to see you play,” you mumble through your last moments of consciousness — gripping onto your boyfriend as though he might disappear. “i want to be in the crowd so when you look up, you see me there, dressed in your jersey, cheering you on.” 
for a moment, yuuji is quiet — a thousand ways to tell you how much he loves you rushing to the forefront of his mind…but then he notices the evening out of your breath and the way your pretty lashes flutter against the centre of his chest. the jock decides it’s better to let you rest, he can always smother you with his love when you wake up. 
but for now, yuuji itadori will spend his time marvelling the way you look sleeping with the letters of his name printed in bold letters across your back. 
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