#keith hair is long as hell

[calumfmu]

PLEASEEEE can we get a sequel to steddie fighting over reader ?? maybe they get together to confront reader and realise they could have a lot more fun if they work together ;))

I've been working on it babe and here it is !! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it. I love this dynamic I have going on, and I hope to continue it. So send me some requests regarding these three, and I'll deliver <3 (also Jesus Christ it’s a long one: 4.2k+ words) Steddie x reader who is playing them both (part two to this) cw: smut, smut, smut, threesome, swearing, 18+, mdni, angst, eating out reader, mentions of Steddie relationship? situationship? idk man, blowjob, unprotected sex, eiffel tower (let’s gooo), fingering, facial, creampie,

The last few weeks have been hell for you. Or heaven, if you could call it that. Both boys yearning for your attention, spending as much time as they could in your presence, one dropping you off only to be picked up an hour later by the other. Constant touches and moments shared in a secret rendezvous between the two of them. The interchanged teenage boy libido was wearing you out day by day, nothing like you had experienced before.

Steve lay beside you, panting as his chest was exposed to the night air, chest hair wet with sweat that dripped down the muscle. He passed his discarded shirt to you for you to wipe down the evidence of the events that just occurred. You were stretched out across the scrappy picnic blanket that lay in the dirt, lake water trickling behind you.

"So, I was thinking..." He began, pulling his shirt over his head. You eyed it, not recognizing the pattern printed on the front. It did look familiar, but nothing of the sort that seemed to be in the boys closet.

"Oh God." You teased, eyes widening at his words. He lightly slapped your arm, rolling his eyes at your comment before buttoning up his jeans.

"Seriously, I was thinking maybe we could, uhh... spend the night together?" He cleared his throat as you got dressed, speeding up your movements as you searched the lake bank for anyone who might pass by. It was uncommon this time of night, but something you should be wary of as Lover's Lake seemed to be a damn near tourist destination these days.

You shot him a look, crinkling your brow. "Tonight?"

He nodded, "Yeah... we finally got that Molly Ringwald movie you wanted to see. I snagged it before we could shelf it, but it's gotta be returned before Keith notices."

You pursed your lips together, toying with the hem of your sock as you refused to meet his eyes. He continued his words, flipping over his stomach to lean closer to you.

"I was thinking me, you, the movie. I could make you my world-famous dish that I've only made for... myself, but hey... I could use a critic. Then in the morning, we could take a trip out of town to--"

"Steve," you gently said, touching his arm as you finally met his eyes. His expression immediately soured, eyes darting away from you. "I can't tonight. Maybe t--"

"Tomorrow? Next week even? " He rushed, irritation filling his words as he sat up suddenly. He began gathering the items that lay around you, tossing your shoe in your general direction.

You were shocked, faltering in your movements as you took him in. This wasn't what you were used to, this wasn't the Steve that had stolen your heart in the past few months.

"Woah, what's up?"

Your voice was shaky as he pulled you to your feet, balling up the blanket that you once lied on. He threw it into his trunk, not bothering to shake the dirt off of it. His once pristine trunk was littered with brown, speckles of Earth settling into the carpeted crevice. Your shoe was half way on, heel sticking out as he rounded the side of the vehicle to the driver's seat.

"What's up?" He repeated to you, venom dripping out of his words. The car clicked as he unlocked it, you sliding into the passenger as he began to start it up. His movements were so fast you could barely keep up with them. "You seriously want to know what's up?"

He fumbled with the keys in the ignition, turning the key over and over before you placed a hand on his wrist, halting the repetition.

"Steve."

His chest immediately fell with a deep exhale, his fingers loosening before he turned his head to you. His brown eyes met yours, wide and filled with an emotion you couldn't quite touch on.

"Steve." His name on your mouth felt like a plea for help, wondering what happened to the Harrington boy that you were so used to.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, bringing his hands to his face as his head fell against the head rest. He ran them through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I just..." Chewing at your bottom lip, you didn't know how to start your next words. "I have plans with Eddie..."

His eyes rolled shut, hands falling to his side before he opened them to look at you. Silence filled the air accompanied by the nervous tap of your foot against the floor of the car.

"Yeah, I know." His whisper felt like a bullet, punching you through your chest, bleeding into your veins.

"You know?"

He laughed, a bitter sound making your skin crawl. "How could I not?"

"I'm sorry, I—"

"It's fine," he ended his words with your name, a sound you normally would love to hear coming from his mouth. In this moment, it sounded like a curse. "I—I just knew. Just like Robin said, you're terrible at it. Playing dumb."

Your mouth sputtered open, losing all words that could even begin to make an excuse.

"You go to his house when you're done over here. Days with me. Nights with him. I know the whole thing," he continued, counting on his fingers with every point he made. You nodded, agreeing with him as it was the only thing you could do in that moment.

"Are—are you mad at me?"

You felt like a little girl at this moment, getting chastised by your father even if the comparison was inappropriate. The only answer you got was Steve starting his car, putting it in reverse as he made his way to your house to drop you off.

The two of you sat in silence for the ride, your heart hanging heavy as he drove, Steve filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint—anger? Rage? Disdain? You weren't sure, whatever it was, he kept it to himself.

He pulled up to your place, lips pressed together as a goodbye as you turned to look at him before getting out. The door sat open, your leg half way out as you started him down, his gaze focused on the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?" You tried, smiling hopefully in his direction. He nodded, not yet meeting your eyes.

"Yeah, see you at 10."

Your face dropped, the mention of your shared shift starting having all hopes crushed. You were hoping he had mentioned something other than the start of the shift, that he was going to talk about taking you out, but you knew that ship had sailed. Whatever you had going on between the two of you—it was ruined.

Your exit was silent as you fled, shutting the door softly behind you before making it up your walk way. Tears stung at your eyes as you fought the emotion. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Your distraction was found in the sheets of Eddie's bed, the older man on top of you, half dressed as he kissed you. Steve lingered in the back of your mind, not dared spoken to him as you didn't want a repeat of the scenario that had occurred.

Eddie's kisses were soft, different than he normally did. He normally was fast, rough, strict black compared to Steve's white. Shaking your head, you placed a hand at the back of his head, pulling him further into you. He moaned into the touch, rutting his hips into yours as his hand pulled at the bra strap at your shoulder.

"Needy babe," he whispered to you in between kisses, pulling away to place his mouth under your ear. Your head crooked to the side, arching into him as the heat of his body overwhelmed any rational thought.

"Eddie—" You began, moaning at his touch. His fingers lowered the strap, dancing into the cup of your bra to grasp at your boob. Goosebumps chilled your body, prickling at the surface of your skin. "I need you."

"You need me, baby?"

The rasp in his voice had you falling apart under his touch, head pressed back into the mattress as bliss flooded your brain.

"I need you."

He hummed in response, trailing his mouth down the expanse of your neck. As his lips found your collarbones, you spread your legs even wider, your hands running down his sides. His tattooed skin felt like silk underneath your grasp, warmth shared in the touch.

"Is this okay?" You looked down to see him pressing kisses to your stomach, trailing lower and lower as gasps fled your mouth. His hands found the hem of your panties, pulling them down slightly as he buried his head between your thighs. The touch of his tongue on you had you gasping for more, fingers tangled in the sheets as he started his touches of pleasure.

He started out fast, tongue toying at your clit as your underwear was pulled down, still resting at your thighs, not yet free. Heat pooled between your legs, wetness dripping out of you. You loved the way he touched you, the way he kissed you.

"Fuck, Eddie—"

He hummed against you, tongue dipping into your hole as he pulled your underwear down further to gain access. Your legs were a bit more free of restriction, thighs pulling at the stretch of fabric.

"I need-" You began, shouting out at the brush of his thumb against your heat. He began to massage you, small circles rubbed against you.

"Need me more than Stevie?"

Your heart lurched at the name, not quite sure if you heard it correctly. Placing a hand at his head, you pushed him off of you, sitting up at your elbows to look at him. He was smug as the cold air hit you, your legs closing at the exposure.

"Wh-what did you say?"

A smirk played on his mouth, his fingers returning to your hips as he pulled you down the mattress closer to him. He leaned into his previous perch, pressing a kiss to your pubic bone. You didn't react, brows furrowed as you stared him down. He shushed you, returning his mouth to your wet cunt as he continued his pleasure to you. Your head fell against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut once again.

As his tongue worked you, his comment lingered, questions filling your senses. Did he say what he did? Or was your mind playing tricks, still caught up on the interaction earlier? A whine escaped you as a finger slipped partly inside of you, digit stretching you open with his tongue.

"Bet little Steve could never have you like this."

You heard it clear this time, your hands pushing him completely off of you before you sat upright, clawing at your underwear to be pulled up your hips.

"What the fuck was that, Eddie?"

It was your turn to be mad, the venom that lingered in Steve's words transferring to your own. Eddie's smug look only angered you more, features serious as his own were teasing.

"Just stating the obvious," he shrugged, leaning on one hand as the other reached down to adjust himself in his boxers. You briefly followed the movement, noticing how hard he was in his pants.

"What are you trying to get at?" You spat at him, already throwing on your clothes. Eddie watched you, eyebrows raised as you rushed it. You pushed off of the bed, searching for your shoe as the mess of his room was suddenly hitting you. "How do you live like this? It's so fucking messy in here."

He remained silent as you scrambled, flipping things over as you searched. That stupid smirk was ever present on his face, top teeth dug into his bottom lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and it shouldn't matter. Even if it is better," you continued, hopping on one foot as you located your sock. You struggled slipping it on, bra strap hanging off your shoulder, peeking out of your top. "In some ways, but not all, he is really good at that one thin—not like it matters. And not like I would even know."

He hummed in response, eyebrows raised as you knew he didn't believe a single thing you were saying. He found humour in the situation. It made you more mad.

"Anyways—I don't want to talk about Steve. I don't want to talk about it with you," you stomped your socked foot, height unbalanced as the platform of your one Mary-Jane stood in the carpet.

"Right," he nodded sarcastically, still seated on the bed as you made your fit. "Under the desk."

You crossed your arms over your chest, continuing your point, "I'm with you right now, it shouldn't matt—What?"

His finger pointed across his room, your eyes following it as you located your other shoe, sitting there on its side, under the small desk covered in figurines, music sheets. Grumbling, you crossed the room before slipping it on.

His laugh echoed through the room as you turned to face him again, pout on your lips. You hated when he was right.

"So... should I take you home now or do you want to continue your little temper tantrum?"

Your mouth dropped open at his words, leaning over at the waist towards him as he seemed so fucking smug. His laughter only deepened, his head shaking at your dramatization.

"I'm walking home."

He shook his head, standing off the bed as he grabbed his discarded jeans. The black denim slid over his legs as he hopped slightly, buttoning them up while staring you down.

"I'm taking you home, sweetheart, it's like midnight."

"No. I'm walking."

You stood firm, turning to throw open the door. You began to storm through the trailer, stomps shaking the pictures that stood on the walls. Wayne sat in the living area, cold beer in one hand, TV remote in the other. His eyes met the scene that entered, you storming through, arms crossed in front of you with Eddie high on your heels, van keys in hand.

"Babe—"

You swiveled around, halting both of your movements as you leaned closer to him.

"I. Am. Walking."

Wayne looked between the two of you, snorting under his breath as he watched his nephew stand in his place, you crossing the floor to the front door. Eddie didn't know what to do, mouth dropped open as you gave him the first bit of attitude he thought you had ever given. You pulled the door open, cold air breezing in. Turning to the middle aged man, you nodded your head in a greeting.

"Goodnight, Wayne," you smiled at him before turning to a scowl, head tilting in Eddie's direction. "Eddie."

The door swung shut behind you as you descended the small flight of steps. The trailer nearly shook as the metal made contact with the frame, loud into the night air.

Eddie stood there, gobsmacked as his keys dangled from his fingers. Wayne had his focused back on the television, some fishing show playing on the static of the box.

"Nice one, son." He muttered, shaking his head as he took a swig of the beer. "What'd you do now?"

"Uncle Wayne, please—"

Eddie's hands shook in the air before turning on his heel, returning to his room with a slam of his own door. Wayne shook his head again, snorting again as he looked at the front door and then to his nephews.

"Teenagers."

A dark hoodie was pulled over you head, black sunglasses sitting on your face as you leaned over the counter, sat in a chair Robin had pulled out for you. You weren't supposed to be in that day, disguise on you as you were wary to see sight of either boy.

"You look the exact same," Robin muttered, leaning on her elbow, one hand running across the cracked counter of the video store.

"Robin, shut up," you replied, ducking your head even further. Steve was nowhere to be seen, his shift not yet started. She laughed at you, shooting a look to a group of middle schoolers who were daring each other to sneak past the 'Adults Only' curtain.

"You look like you, but in disguise," she laughed, shaking her head at you as you looked around the store.

"That's the whole point, dingus."

"How long are you planning on avoiding the two of them again?"

You rolled your eyes behind the shades, pulling the hoodie further down over your head.

"Until they both forget I exist."

"Yeah, doubt that's going to happen. Steve hasn't stopped talking about you since the last time you saw him, and I see Eddie's van lingering in the parking lot, like a stalker," she said, sighing as she watched your paranoia. "You know, if they ever make a movie or something about the Richard Ramirez guy down in California, Eddie could definitely play him. Maybe he should get into acting!"

You gave her a deadpan look, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You're losing the point, Robs."

She shrugged, sitting up as her hands found the counter. Her chipped black nails stretched in front of you, tapping patterns into the wood.

"I'm just saying, they're not going to forget about you or what happened two weeks ago."

"But I can try, no?"

The preteens who were terrorizing the store ran around, knocking over displays as they pretended to shoot at each other with finger guns. Robin shouted at them, fingers snapping in their direction.

"No, you cannot," her finger pointed at you, emphasizing her point. "You had to know this was bound to happen."

Groaning, you shrunk into your seat, hands at your head. "I know, but not like this."

"Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to say here," she said, grimacing a fake-smile (could you call it that?) at an older gentleman who came up, glasses huge against his oily face. He pushed his way to the counter, a little too close and personal to the two of you.

You both leaned out of his space, look bleak as he proceeded to ask about a movie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Robin answered, typing into the computer as he supplied details of it. She searched the stores inventory, typing and retyping star names as he gave the wrong ones. "A stranger? Calling? 1979, really?"

He nodded in response, insistent on the description. You watched the interaction unfold, eyes darting between the pair.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, clearing his throat. The hacking of his throat had the two of you leaning further out of his reach. "1979, with that Carol Kane chick."

"Chick?" She muttered under breath, eyebrows flitting at the word. You laughed at her, her reaction being one of the reasons why you loved her so much. She typed some more, pausing as a title finally appeared on the screen. "I think I got it."

The slow computer loaded, pixel by pixel as details emerged. She leaned in closer, reading the details aloud.

"Ahh, When a Stranger Calls," she nodded, typing more information to search for its location in the store. Your eyebrows raised slightly, realization dawning on you. Your head suddenly felt more clear. "Girl gets calls from a stranger, finds out it isn't a prank, that whole slasher thing."

You stood up out of the chair, the furniture tilting back to slam onto the floor. Both Robin and the older man jumped at the loud noise, eyeing you as you pointed towards your best friend.

"That's it!"

The man grumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think I was being helped first."

You waved your hand in his direction, focused on Robin who started at you, wide eyed. "I'm going to call them! Explain that I was serious about them both, but couldn't decide and break it off tonight! With them both!"

Robin squinted her eyes at your exclamation, not following.

"I think you missed the point," she said, annoyed look on her face.

"No, that's it!" You cheered, smile wide as you took the glasses off of your face. "Thank you, Robs. Oh my God, I owe you."

You turned to run out the store, giddy with emotion as Robin stood behind you, confused as always when it came to you. A bleak 'you're welcome?' followed you out there as you ran into the street. Your plan for later was much clearer now, anxious emotions fleeing as you made your way towards home.

You chewed on your fingernail, tapping your foot against your kitchen linoleum, glass of wine in your other hand. They were supposed to be here any moment, the two of them supposed to be arriving separately, hours in between so things could go smoothly. You were expecting them to tear each other apart, fight to the death or something of the sort right in your driveway. Hours before, two separate phone calls had orchestrated, different time slots reserved for the heartbreaking conversations that were to take place.

The calls had gone smoothly, only for you to spiral hours later, red wine being your only escape into a less anxious state of mind. You expected it to be okay, the in-person talk, yet could only think of the worst case scenario at hand.

The shrill ringing of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts, your heart racing with every step you took towards the front door. You took a deep breath before opening it, Steve and Eddie both standing there to your surprise.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide as you looked between them two. Beginning to close the door, Eddie's hand shot out, stopping the movement.

"Hey, sweetheart," he beamed, tilting his head to the side. Steve gave him a look, eye roll in place at the nickname.

"Sweetheart?" Steve grumbled, hands resting on his hips.

"What—how did—why are you guys here?" You muttered, stepping aside as the two of them walked in. You remained frozen, eyes staring outside, where they once stood as they began to make themselves comfortable In your home.

Steve cleared his throat, pulling you from your trance. Reluctantly, you shut the door, turning to them as you gripped the wine glass in your hand.

Eddie stood, leaned against one of the walls in the foyer, Steve dead center in the small room.

"You invited us over, remember?" Eddie supplied, smile on his lips. Your eyes widened, darting back and forth between the duo. You shook your head rapidly, walking past them to the living room as they began to follow you.

You turned to them, a large swig being taken from the glass. "No! No! I invited you-" You pointed towards Eddie, "-over. And then him."

"Looks like you got two for the price of one," Eddie's stupid smug look had you faint, breath shallow as you moved to sit down, the Earth feeling shaky beneath you. He moved to sit beside you, legs splayed wide as he spread himself on the couch. Steve remained in place, arms crossed over his chest as he took in the sight.

"No, that's not—It wasn't su-"

"Supposed to be like this?" Steve spoke, his voice filling the air, drawing you from your thoughts. You looked at him, moving to take another drink from the glass, only to find it empty. He watched your hands, gripping the glass until your skin turned paler than your normal complexion.

Eddie leaned in your direction, hand coming out to rest at your thigh. You and Steve’s eyes followed the motion, time standing still.

“So, what did you want to speak with us about sweetheart?” The emphasis on their pairing echoed in the spacious living area, his vowels drawing out with an exaggeration that had your heart sinking.

“I just wanted to…” you cleared your throat, leaning to place the empty wine glass on the coffee table. “I was going to tell you that this isn’t working anymore.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised from his side of the coffee fable, he let out a low whistle at the words.

“Working with who?”

“Both. Both of you.” The two men nodded at your words, staring you down as you formulated your next words.

“You can’t keep up with the both of us?” Eddie asked, thumb beginning to rub small circles on your knee. Subconsciously, your knee began to pull closer to his, a familiar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

“You want me to choose one of you, and I can’t do that,” you sighed, placing your hand over his. He grinned at the touch, leaning into you even closer. Steve shifted nervously, watching the two of you. Even from here, you felt guilty, you making contact with the older man felt like you were choosing.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve spoke up, moving to sit on the other side of you. You felt caged in.

A deep sigh left you, nerves returning as your sides began to warm up, the heat from their bodies entering you in the close proximity.

“I-I do, and it’s not fair.”

Your voice remained small as you removed your hand from him, clasping them in your lap. Leaning your back against the couch cushion, you found comfort in the ceiling, eyes searching the white paint.

“You’re right. It’s not fair,” Steve said, placing his own hand on your thigh.

It rested higher than Eddie’s, his own eyes acknowledging that and taking it as competition. His fingers left your knee, drifting up until it rested where your hip bone was. A shuttered gasp left your mouth, legs twitching under the contact. He leaned into you, mouth brushing the cusp of your ear, lips softly brushing the skin.

“You don’t have to choose just one,” he whispered, your eyes widening at the tone in his voice. “You could have us both.”

You shot up, shaking their hands off of you as you rose from the couch. Steve rose his hands in defense, while Eddie remained still, leaning on the couch cushion in the same position he was speaking to you. Looking in between them both, you were ready for them both to start laughing, pointing fingers at you, hell, even Robin coming out of somewhere and joining in on the joke.

“That’s not funny, Eddie.”

He shrugged, corners of his mouth downturning as you stared him down. The look on his face was still in good humour, glimmer behind his eyes.

“I’m not kidding. Stevie here was the one who suggested it.”

Your eyes cut to the him, disbelief in every inch of your body. He had been the most territorial of this entire ordeal, making lewd comments about Eddie that made you assume he couldn’t stand him, let alone even suggest this.

“Steve?” The shake behind your voice had him reaching up to you, placing a hand on your hip. You stepped away from it, eyes slightly dropping when he looked disappointed.

“You weren’t going to choose,” his voice seemed hesitant. “I wasn’t going to make you. And if you like Eddie… as much as you like me, I figured it would work.”

Eddie snorted, grabbing your hand to pull him into you despite your protest. You fell into his lap, snug against his hips with your legs in Steve’s direction.

“I think you mean as much as she likes me, pretty boy,” he blew a kiss in the younger’s direction, winking to follow. Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the gesture. You lingered on his face, noticing how his cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Eddie’s hand found your cheek, cupping it as he brought your gaze to him.

Inches away from his face, your noses brushed each other, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Slowly, your mouths met, lips parted as his fit perfectly in between. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, a small nip given to you. You felt a hand run across your calf, pulling away from Eddie to see Steve, eyes running over the sight of your legs, palms spreading over your skin.

Eddie pulled you into a kiss again, your eyes unmoving from Steve as he leaned over to place a few kisses at the bend of your knee. You gasped into his mouth, spreading your legs as Steve began to spread his love across your skin.

“Wait, I—” all hands left your skin, leaving you feeling naked. The two of them waited for your next move, eyes blinking in anticipation. “Steve, you’re okay with this?”

He slowly nodded, seemingly thinking over the answer. He opened his mouth to speak, words getting caught in your throat.

“I—yeah, I am. I mean, uhh, I’d do anything for you,” his voice was sincere, quiet into the room as Eddie began pressing his mouth to your neck. You craned your neck, eyes fluttering shut at the press of his mouth.

“And Eddie?” Your voice strained, moan intertwined with it.

He nodded vehemently, teeth scraping against your jugular. He mumbled against you, “Fuck yes. The two of you are, like, insanely hot.”

Steve blushed at his words, dipping his chin as he leaned over you, kissing you the length of your legs until he reached your hipbones. You were stretched across Eddie’s lap, his hands running madly over your torso. With your eyes closed, you felt absolute bliss, mouths pressed against you, hands running wild, soft moans filling in the air in which you could barely decipher who they were coming from.

Steve’s fingers reached for your waistline, moving to bring down your shorts, only to be stopped by your fingers at his wrist. His eyes looked up at you, mouth parted open in surprise.

“There’s no way we’re doing this on the couch,” you said, standing up and pulling the two of them with you. “My parents are gonna kill me.”

They followed close behind you, trailing up the stairs as you lead them to your room. As your bedroom door swung open, you barely had time to walk in the room before Eddie was lifting you up, pushing you down on the bed before crawling over you. He was pulling off both of your clothes in a rush, throwing them all around the room in between getting his mouth anywhere he could touch.

“I think they might kill you for a couple of different reasons, sweetheart,” he gestured towards himself and Steve, swallowing the laugh that escaped you with his lips.

The bed dipped as Steve settled down next to you, kneeling from where you two were tangled amidst each other. Reaching for Steve’s shirt, you paused, realizing where this familiar graphic had came from.

“You’re wearing Eddie’s shirt,” you deadpanned, arching your back as Eddie kissed down your body, pulling your underwear down with his downward trail. The cold air hit your skin, wetness pooled between your thighs.

Steve’s cheeks reddened again, a nod coming before he crossed his arms at his chest, pulling it over his head.

“We had to, uhh, test things out earlier,” he quickly said, leaning down to kiss you. His mouth on yours for the first time that evening felt like heaven, a piece you didn’t realize was missing.

You slapped at his chest, mouth dropping.

“You’ve been playing me this entire time!”

Eddie’s tongue found you, circling your clit lightly before he delved in, mouth firmly planted at the nub. A curse fell from your mouth, hands shooting down to tug at his hair. Your head fell back against the duvet cover, Steve’s hand running through your hair as you tried to find your breathing.

It was sloppy, his tongue working you as loud noises filled the room. He ate you like he was starved, lapping up your wetness, diving his tongue into you, kissing the junction of where your thighs met. He looked up at you, hair falling into his eyes as he flicked his tongue, drawing pleasure from the sensitive nub.

“We had to beat you at your own game,” Steve whispered, pulling down his boxers until he sprung out, cock dripping. Your mouth fell open at the sight, tongue running over you bottom lip. He began to run a hand over it, fingers trailing from his wet head to his shaft, spreading a layer of the precum everywhere.

Leaning up on an elbow, you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around him before pressing your lips to the head. He groaned, fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you down on him, your mouth stretching wide the lower you swallowed him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, hips making small thrusts as you sucked at him, cheeks hollowing.

Drool began to pool at the corner of your mouth, small groans caught in your throat as Eddie continued to tongue fuck you, his fingers running lightly over you clit. Your hips squirmed, trying to get more of him on you.

You pulled off of Steve, working him with your fist as you looked down at him.

“Need more, Eds.”

He nodded, smirking around you as he slipped in two fingers, pushing them to the knuckle, a curl in them. Your head tilted back a little bit, eyes briefly shutting at the pleasure that found you. A whine fell from you, your body tensing as he crooked his fingers, moving fast as squelching sounds began to fill the air.

Steve’s hand in your hair tightened, pulling you closer to him as your grip on him loosened.

“Okay, time to focus, baby,” he whispered, hand tight in your hair, the other placed on your chin, pulling you mouth open before you wrapped your lips around him. It was hard to even think straight, the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, Eddie’s tongue and fingers against you clouding every bit of judgement you had.

Your other hand rose to cup Steve’s balls, rolling them behind your fingers as he pushed you down to deep throat him. You couldn’t even be mad, used to the roughness he gave you, him often seeking his own high as fast as possible, he knew you loved feeling used in moments like this. Choking around him, you swirled your tongue on the underside of his dick, moaning at the pulse it gave you.

Eddie’s fingers gave you one last curl, that final push to your sweet spot that had your legs pulled up, squeezing around his head as you came, whining around Steve. He didn’t stop, fingering you through it, lapping at you as you shook below him, back arching off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you came down, the overstimulation hit you, aching between your legs as you pushed him off of you.

A laugh was heard as he crawled up to where you were sucking at Steve, body turned now to face him completely. Eddie’s ringed hand came up to lace with Steve’s, strands of your hair getting caught between your fingers.

“Aw, look at you, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s voice was rough, crouched down on the bed inches away from where your mouth met Steve.

He held eye contact with you, your hooded eyes watering at the way the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tongue traced over his lips as he stared down at your mouth working the younger man.

“Need more?” He asked you in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded, pulling off of Steve to catch your breath. He whined at the loss of contact, cock so swollen now you were sure that it hurt.

Eddie patted your hip, bringing you to your knees. You kneeled on all fours, ass sticking up as Eddie began to move towards you. Steve’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder.

“No fucking way, Munson,” he hissed, squeezing the base of his cock. Eddie rolled his eyes at him, pushing at his shoulder as Steve scrambled to get behind you instead. He stumbled over his boxers still pushed to the bottom of his thighs as he kicked them off, finally rising to his knees behind you.

“Come on, big boy,” you giggled, mocking Eddie’s nickname, wiggling your hips in his direction.

A hand placed at the base of your spine pushing you down as he ran a hand over his dick a few times, eyes rolling at you.

“Shut up,” he exhaled, pushing into you slowly as you stretched around him. The slow push inside had the two of you groaning, your fingers clawing at the sheets, you found Eddie’s hip, gripping at it tightly.

Eddie rose to his knees, bringing your body up with him.

“Ready?” He asked you, nodding along with you before he guided his cock into your mouth. He moved slowly, your head bobbing along him as you rocked from the thrusts that Steve gave you.

Being filled from both ends had you blinded in pleasure, eyes rolled back to your head as the two men began to use you. It started slow, the combined movements of their hips in sync. Your body felt limp, jolting with their movement, mouth wide, stretched full.

Steve found his rhythm, taking charge as he began to pound into you, hands on your hips, pulling you back into him. The harshness of it had you choking on Eddie, gagging around him, cock thick and dripping into the back of your throat. Loud slaps filled the air, Steve’s grunts accompanying the noise.

“You look so perfect, princess.”

You looked up at Eddie, tears prickling in your eyes. That white hot familiar heat bubbled within you, already at your breaking point. The two men were no match for you, you were turned on beyond belief.

“Fuck, look how good you’re taking him.”

Steve’s words this time, his voice low and raspy—mind in a different headspace. He was relentless, driving into you so fast, you were running from it, arching your hips down as the head of his dick began to press onto your cervix.

“Come here,” he grunted, driving your hips back onto him. You were pulled off of Eddie, a cry of pleasure and pain, you weren’t quite sure which one yet leaving you.

“Ca-can’t. ‘S too much.”

Your head shook, eyes squeezed shut as you pushed your hips back against him anyways. Eddie’s fingers found your chin again, pulling your head in his direction.

“Baby,” he whispered, you shaking your head as Steve fucked you, speeding up as he began to near his high. Your legs shook with pleasure, wetness dripping from you at this point.

“Look at him,” Steve grunted, pressing deep as he drove into you.

Your eyes shot open, squinting up at Eddie, his hair sticking to his neck and shoulders as the air became more dense. He guided you back onto him, keeping your mouth only at his tip as he jerked the rest of his length. His chest began to rise and fall rapidly, his tell tale sign of his own release.

“Oh, fuck.”

Steve’s whisper under his breath had his hips stilling, spilling into you with his hot, sticky release. He thrusted a few more times, pushing his cum deeper, some of it spilling out the sides of his cock. Pulling out of you, he leaned down, licking at your hole, stretched from his brutal force earlier.

It only took a few licks from him, licking at his own release, to have you screaming again, legs shaking as your own orgasm coursed through your body. It was the best one you think you’d ever experienced, mind going fuzzy, abdomen tensing, rolling waves of euphoria through your spine.

“Fuck, Steve—” Eddie groaned, jerking himself faster before pulling himself out of your mouth. “Are you— ah, fuck.”

His sentence cut off, cum spurting from his dick all over your face, the angle having it drip down your cheeks, lips, and all over your chin. It felt warm against you as you came down from your high, eyes fluttering shut and your tongue sticking out to catch the rest of it. Eddie groaned even more, pushing the head of his cock onto the flat of your mouth, smearing his release all over it.

You swallowed it, smiling up at the way he stared down out you, that dark look in his eyes. Steve collapsed next to the two of you, laying on his back as he rubbed a hand over his chest.

“You guys are so hot,” he mumbled to himself, not meaning to be heard. The two of you laughed at his words, Eddie leaning over to grab his shirt to wipe off your face.

He was gentle with the touch, wiping down your face with the material as he looked lovingly at you. The interaction was comical, the adoration he gave you while wiping his literal cum off of you.

The three of you settled in, Steve on his back, you laying across him, cheek on his sternum as Eddie laid on top of you, his own head on your hip.

“Did you guys really know I was talking to you both at the same time?” You asked, voice small. Eddie snorted, shaking his head before Steve reached out and slapped him. He shushed him, cutting him a look. They seemed to be in on some inside joke you weren’t apart of.

“Hey, I don’t like that you guys are keeping secrets now,” you whined, reaching down to rub at the top of Eddie’s head. He leaned into the touch, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“No, it was, uhh, Robin,” Steve confessed, rushing out his words in one breath. Your eyes widened, looking at him in shock. Eddie stifled a laugh, coughing to cover his tracks.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she said something after, you knew your best friend to start shit, always lurking in quiet corners.

Covering your face with your hands, you let out a groan. You felt Steve’s body shake with laughter, his own hands coming up to pull your hands away.

“Shh, it’s fine,” he joked, rubbing circles into your hair. You shook your head, a deep sigh coursing through you.

“I mean, look where we are now,” Eddie whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, settling into you as he began to search for sleep. You felt it creeping onto you, energy drained.

“I’m still confused on what this even is.” Steve hummed in agreement, his hands stilling on you as he closed his own eyes.

The three of you fell into a pattern of slow breaths, slight shifts that moved the other person’s body, yet still one together. These two around you were the missing pieces you figured you were missing your entire life, emptiness deep in the pit of your soul that you’d never figured would be missing. Being with them separately was one thing, but together it made sense.

“I’m sure we can figure it out, hon,” Eddie mumbled, pulling you closer to him. Steve moved with you, a tangle of limbs on top of each other that would soon be the normal.

a/n: this was supposed to come a lot faster than it did, so I’m sorry but here it is :) tags: @emma-munson @username199945

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open!

#my writing #Steddie x reader #Steddie x you #Steve Harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Steddie smut #steve harrington smut #Eddie Munson smut #smut #requests

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 13: Love is... Showing up when someone doesn’t ask (Prompt by @steddieas-shegoes)

wc: 559 | Rated: T | cw: Food Mention

Tags: Valentine's Day, Date, Steve Harrington Angst (happy ending)

By the time Steve closes up Family Video on Valentine’s Day night, he is feeling pretty sorry for himself.

He thinks 1987 might be the first year since he’d hit adolescence that he is alone. In years past he’d at least had a date to give flowers to, even if it didn’t go much further than that. And, as he twists the lock in just the right way so it will actually lock, he begins to regret his whole holding-out-hope-for-true-love thing.

Because everybody has a date this Valentine’s Day.

Robin is at the drive-in with Vickie. Dustin is on some nerdy radio date with Suzie. His parents are at Enzo’s. Hell, even Keith skipped out on his shift early to go pick up Cindy from the laundromat.

He rattles the door, just to make sure it’s locked when he hears a rustling sound behind him.

Sighing, he turns around and readies himself to tell whoever is showing up late with a return to piss off…

Only it’s Eddie, holding up a brow paper bag with the Benny’s Diner logo emblazoned on the front.

“Brought you dinner,” he smiles all tight lipped and dimpled.

“Thought you were going somewhere with Jeff?” Steve grumbles despite snatching up the bag and catching a delectable whiff of melted cheese.

Eddie shrugs, “Dude bailed on me, man.”

He fiddles with his rings and looks at his shoes for a moment before jumping back to attention with a click of his fingers. Steve narrows his eyes, suspicious as Eddie begins digging in his jeans pocket and produces a handful of change.

“And that’s for a Coke,” he says, offering up the coins.

“Why?” Steve blurts out and his rudeness makes Eddie clam right back up.

He twirls a lock of dark hair around his ring-adorned finger and pulls it across his face.

“Just thought you’d want something to eat...” he explains, his voice quiet and bashful as rocks on his heels, “Valentine’s Day sucks.”

He passes it off with another shrug and looks out at the empty street, his dark eyes illuminated by the nearby street light, the shine of his chains and jewellery shimmering too.

Steve sucks in a breath.

The thing is, Eddie always does this. Shows up.

To make Steve laugh during a dead shift. To bring him coffee in the morning when it’s way too early. To bring him a whole goddamn meal.

He doesn’t have to do any of this for Steve. Not really.

Steve tightens his grip on the paper bag and steps forward, as close as is more typical of Eddie’s usual lack of personal space. He can smell his cologne – it’s strong like he had recently freshened up, perhaps just for Steve...

“Hey Eddie?” he asks softly.

“Yep?” Eddie answers, popping the ‘p’ as he continues to avoid his gaze rather conspicuously.

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Eddie looks up, startled.

“Now?” he gapes, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, more assured than he felt in months.

“Where?” Eddie frowns.

“I don’t know,” he laughs, “Anywhere you want. Benny’s. Sitting in my car and sharing this burger. Fuck, we can go back to my house and eat cereal for all I care. As long as I’m with you.”

Eddie grins and gestures to the Beemer in a half bow, “Lead the way, sweetheart.”

#this one is a little last minute seeing as THIS GUY was working on the wrong prompt day 🤦‍♂️ #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddielovemonth #cw food #food mention

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 11

part 1 | part 10 | ao3

cw: period-typical homophobic language, explicit sexual content (if you are under 18 then kindly GO ON NYOW GIT come back when you grow your first gray pube)

It feels crazy, after all that, to just get up and face the day. Feels like last Fall all over again: he’s concussed in the back of class getting bagel crumbs on a worksheet with his face still pulverized. There’s a gross pang in his chest as he goes about his morning routine, his heart all squishy and bruised like some dickhead smashed a plate over it, but whatever, he guesses. Public education and minimum wage wait for no one.

Robin grills him the whole car ride: “Oh, my god, is he okay?? Is he alive? Is your mom okay? What the hell, Steve?” and he lets her ramble with wide, worried eyes; doesn’t even get to the part about Eddie. When they pull up to the school she gets out of the car and comes around to his side, knocks on his window and leans in when he rolls it down to give him a ridiculously long hug.

"Robinnn," he grumbles; his face is mashed against her boobs. "People are gonna think we're dating."

She bends to hug him tighter still, her bony ass hanging out his window where the whole school can see. "I'd date you in a second."

"You've literally said that you wouldn't."

"Platonically, I would!!"

She gives him one last squeeze, and he watches her waddle off, trumpet case awkwardly smacking her calves.

And then he just... goes to work. He goes to stand around a nearly empty store and pretend like he even has any work to do, restocks the already full displays of candy and buffs the countertops until they shine. Three hours in and he's run out of ways to look busy and Keith is “doing admin stuff” in the back, so he gives his mom a call. Makes sure she's okay; did she eat anything yet; any updates on Ernie?

She’s fine, she's not hungry, he's alive but that's all they know for now, her tone distantly polite like Steve's nothing more than a friendly cold caller.

He shoves his fingers in his eyes ’til he sees stars when they hang up.

He calls the Henderson house next, leaves a message to apologize for skipping out early, promises that he'll be there next Wednesday and he can bring dessert this time. There’s a lunch rush after that, but the day still drags like a bad hangover, a dull throbbing in his bones, and when he finally gets home he collapses onto his bed and passes out on top of the covers with his dumb work vest still on.

—

Eddie's acting weird.

Steve sees him again on Friday, spots him and his uncle having a smoke out on the porch and wanders over to say hello. Wayne seems happy enough to chat; gives him all the news on Ernie — "Bastard's unkillable," he says, almost impressed. He’s stable now, should be home any day.

Eddie, on the other hand, spends the entire interaction behaving like a skittish cat, eyes darting to and from Steve, leg jiggling as he quietly puffs his cig.

Steve half expects him to slink off and come back to drop a dead mouse at his feet.

He feels his brows knit together, agitation creeping in. It's not like he thought they'd be best friends after a single night of ceasefire or anything — as if they'd start braiding each other's hair and trading their deepest, darkest secrets or whatever queer shit — but like…

He thought they might be cool now. At least a little bit.

And Eddie's not being rude to him, exactly, but that's somehow even worse. The polite disinterest. The subtle shift to the left. Back and away.

“Okay, well, uh...” Steve glances at Eddie, who's looking anywhere but him. Fucking fascinated by a loose thread on his ripped jeans, apparently, plucking at it with anxious fingers. “See ya around, I guess?”

Wayne says not be a stranger, and Eddie gives him a quick nod. “See ya.”

Steve grinds his teeth about it for the rest of the afternoon, then decides, like, screw this. It's a Friday night; he's not sitting around sulking all evening because Eddie Munson hurt his feelings.

He calls up a girl — some pretty blonde chick he remembers from the cheer squad — and sets up a date for later that night. Takes her to the drive-in, buys her a vanilla shake. The date's fine; it's good; it's fine. She's pretty enough, and she offers to suck him off when the main feature starts.

It’s not a good blowjob. Arguably one of the worst ones Steve’s had, and he’s had quite a few. She keeps gagging herself with these gross squelching sounds, barely getting even half of his dick in her tiny mouth and not bothering to use her hands to make up the difference. Just leaves them resting on Steve’s thighs while she makes fake whimpering moans like she’s sooo turned on by this; fucking as if; and somewhere in the middle of her repetitive, sloppy bobbing his mind starts to wander off. To the trailer, to the lot fees, the fucking pharmacy bills. Their ever-dwindling savings and what percentage of them he just wasted on this lackluster movie night; surely they’re gonna run out any day now; tick tock, tick tock.

"Um," the girl squeaks as she pulls off with a gross slurp. Steve looks down at his lap, sees he's gone soft. "Am I, like, doing something wrong, or...?"

Her voice is high and quiet, innocent and sweet, and Steve feels like an asshole. He squeezes himself at the base, gives a few quick strokes to get himself up again. "No, you're perfect, honey," he lies. "Stick out your tongue for me?"

She bats her eyes demurely and rolls over onto her side, gives him some kind of sexy pout before opening her mouth so he can jerk off over her. Steve works his wrist; tries not to be rude and look away, but her colors are all wrong. Strawberry hair. Blue irises. He squeezes his eyes shut, moves his hand faster and thinks of dark brown. Dark hair, dark lashes, dark eyes like the deep woods. Endless. Sort of mesmerizing. Nancy? "Oh, fuck," he gasps as he comes.

The girl squeals and jerks away from him, hands flying to her face. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god! You got it in my nose!"

"Sorry,” Steve grunts, shuddering through an aftershock. There’s cum on his hand, on his pants; all over this poor girl’s face. He thinks he got some in her eyelashes. "Shit, sorry, let me, uh—"

He leans over and rifles through the glove box, trying to find a napkin for her. No dice. Best he can do is an old McDonald's wrapper with a grease stain on the side. "Here, does— does this work?"

“Ew!”

“Sorry, I mean it’s that or my shirt, but then I’d have to drive you home shirtless, so-”

“Ugh,” she gives him a bitchy look. Tries to, anyway. One eye is glued shut. “Just give me that, please.”

His limp, spitty cock is still hanging from his pants when he passes her the wrapper. Flaccid and sad, like a white flag of surrender, and a bubble of hysterical laughter slips out. A choked burst of it, a pufferfished pfffft as it explodes past his lips. He’s not sure if it's the orgasm or the ridiculousness of the situation or if he's just plain lost his mind, but the girl glares at him, which...

There's still a glob of jizz on her cheek, so it doesn’t help matters much.

"I think you should take me home."

"Y-yep. Sorry. Yeah."

“Like now.”

Steve tucks himself into his jeans.

—

part 12

tagging whoever commented yesterday if your settings will let me @slutforcoffein @annabanannabeth @rani-mayida @awolfstudio @noodle-shenaniganery @yourmom-isgay @zombiecreatures @anne-bennett-cosplayer @thestarslittleking @evillittleguy @acedorerryn @messrs-weasley @bronwenmarie @lololol-1234 @estrellami-1 @jaytriesstuff @space-invading-pigeon @violetsteve @ahsokatanoss @slowandsteddie @zoeweee @silver-snaffles @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @thealwithnoname @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @hellion-child @stevesbipanic @trensu @steves-strapcollection @hotluncheddie

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #wayne munson #claudia henderson #st fic #my writing #my fic

[alt-vera]

— whiskey girl ⁀➷

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joel miller gives his whiskey girl a gift.

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✿ | joel miller | 1.06k | ❛ whiskey girl - toby keith ❜ | part one

warnings: pre outbreak!joel miller. drinking. allude to sex. age gap.

note: who knows when im gonna post again lol stay tuned for part two tho

❝ just ain’t enough good burn in tequila, she needs somethin’ with a little more edge and a little more pain ❞

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JOEL MILLER LIKED HIS GIRLS LIKE HE LIKED HIS DRINKS.

　Strong, neat, and not cheap enough to make him gag.

　That’s why he liked you: a farmer’s granddaughter majoring in agriculture who worked hard for what she had and knew the value of respecting those around her without being walked over. A little ragged on the edges, but Joel liked ‘em rough.

　Same could be said for you. You liked Joel for the same reasons he fawned over you. He was charming, and assiduous, with enough edge worn into his features to draw you in at the drop of a dime.

　So, when you invited Joel to a local dive bar on an eventless friday night, he sure as hell wasn’t going to say no. It was rare for you both to be free; usually he was working late, or you had classes, or tests, or were helping on the farm.

　He saw your worn mustang parked by the entrance, and spotted you instantaneously as he walked inside. A welcoming aura surrounded you as you chatted with some old men, presumably other farmers who knew you from your last name and came in for a drink after a sweltering day of plowing fields. Your smile gleamed under the warm lights of the bar, and Joel couldn’t help it as his lips curled into a smile just from looking at you.

　“Haven’t been making you wait long, have i?” He drawled as he sauntered up to you, hand making it’s way into the back pocket of your jeans, pulling you closer to him.

　You directed your smile his way before bidding your goodbyes to the old folks. “‘Course not, Miller. You know that if you did, i would’ve given you hell as soon as you set foot in the door.”

　Joel chuckled, running his free hand through his messy hair. “Fair enough, darlin’. You need a drink?”

　“Please,” You replied, and Joel put two fingers in his mouth, throwing a loud whistle at the bartender.

　“Can i get a beer and a, uh,” He glanced over to you for a moment, deep eyes meeting your own, before a smirked danced across his features, “…a whiskey, neat, for my girl, please.”

　You couldn’t help as your cheeks warmed at his words. My girl. You rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him so that he couldn’t see the ruddy heat spreading across your face.

　The two of you didn’t have a label. You drank together, you kissed, you fucked. You’d make dinner for him and his daughter, and he’d take you for drives at sunset down empty country roads, radio blasting through the open heat waves as you yelled gleefully out the windows.

　Still, anyone who looked at you and Joel knew there was something there, even when his hand wasn’t in your back pocket or your fingers were grasping his forearm. You were his girl. And he was your guy. No denomination necessary.

　One whiskey turned to three before you were singing along to the jukebox in the corner of the bar, holding up invisible microphones to random folks who’d join you in your performance. Joel watched, amused, as you twirled around to the twang of the guitar blaring through the speakers. His smile grew as you crept closer to him, pretending to reel him in to dance with you like a fish caught on a worm.

　Little did you know that you already had him from the moment he met you. Hook, line, and sinker.

　His hand found yours as he gave in, not much of a dancer, but eager to spin you around. You let him lead you, swaying to the pace of the music, pulling you closer to him as the tempo continued on.

　He pulled you flush against him. Forgetting the music, forgetting the dancing, forgetting the watching eyes. He kissed you, a passionate catch of the lips that left you craving more, the dull glow of amber above you acting like a spotlight that shone on you and Joel solely.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

　Joel couldn’t help himself as reached a hand up and drew a sloppy happy face on the fogged up windows of your mustang. Your head laid on his bare chest as you both fought to catch your breath, crickets chirping loudly in the farm field, audible even through the barrier of your car.

　You felt him bury his nose in your hair, breathing in the smell of you. Vanilla, and sweet musk, and whiskey. He felt you smile against his pec, eyes stealing a glance up to meet his.

　“I have a present for you,” He spoke suddenly, voice worn and husky.

　“Better than the way you just fucked me?” You joked with a light chuckle, feeling his arm move as he went to fish something out of his jeans that had fell on the floor of your backseat.

　He held the gift in his large hand before opening his palm to you to reveal a small wooden box. His fingers inched it open, and inside was a thin-banded ring with a dainty diamond in the middle.

　You turned dreadfully quiet as you stared at the band, and an anxious prickle crept over Joel’s skin.

　You raised yourself off his chest, turning to look at him. “Joel, if you’re proposing to me before even asking me to be your girlfriend, then i’m going to chuck this out into the field.”

　“What?” He laughed, inching so that he was sitting upright. “No, no, it’s a promise ring,” He said, plucking the jewellery out of the box and grabbing your hand, pushing it delicately onto your ring finger.

　“Ever since Sarah’s mom up and left, datin’ has been hard. I didn’t even wanna look at another woman—“ Joel’s deep eyes met yours, and you felt your heart swell, “—Until i met you.”

　“I don’t want t’distract you from your studies,” He continued, “But you’re my girl, and i want everyone to know it.”

　There it was again. My girl. Your pulse raced as you kissed him eagerly, full of adoration. Joel could still taste the smooth relish of whiskey on your breath.

　You smiled at him euphorically as you pulled away, words leaving your lips before you could even register the weight of them. “I love you, Joel.”

　Joel’s thumb stroked your cheek affectionately, returning your grin. “I love you too, my little whiskey girl.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #smut #joel miller self insert #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[2knightt]

「 you are—unforgettable.」

IN WHICH—you’re them and they’re you!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ people in this fic refer to two-bit as ‘keith.’ who cuz who the FUCK says ‘he got his two-bits in🤓’ NOBODY! but in the descriptive parts he will be two-bit. ALSO IF U DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING LOOK IN THE TAGS!

Ponyboy Curtis ;

his class was gonna watch this movie before reading a book. ‘the outsiders,’ or somethin’.

it was made in the ‘80’s—he didn’t want to even watch it. watching movies in class was the worst!

ponyboy sat at his desk, head in his arms. he heard the music and looked up, chin resting on his arms.

when ponyboy seen you writing down and narrating, he could’ve sworn he died and came back to life. LIKE WHEN HE HEARD YOUR VOICEEE HE GOT A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS CHEEKS.

his friends beside him noticed, snickering to themselves. they shoved him, asking if that was his future partner. he just pushed them off, quietly telling them to fuck off.

when ponyboy seen you covered in the soot??? phew—he questioned his morals, man. and THEN HE SEEN YOU BEAT UP?? he was getting FED.

ponyboy came out of that school a new man.

his ears were hot, his cheeks were red, and he was already looking up edits of you. ponyboy shoved those almost broken wired apple headphones in his ears and tuned everyone out.

when he got home he ignored any questions darry and soda threw at him and immediately went to his room. ponyboy quietly closed the door before hopping into bed, pulling out his phone, and going on tiktok.

spent like a solid 30 minutes tweaking over edits of you. like full on screaming into his pillow—i’m so serious.

“darry, what the hell is that noise?”

“i dunn—ponyboy?”

“AHHH!!”

when he found out that, outside of the outsiders, you’re decades older than him he was SO HEARTBROKEN.

the gang seen him looking at photos of you and immediately started teasing him. he absolutely tried to back himself up with stutters.

“they’re how much years older than you, bro?”

“NONO HEAR ME OUT, PLEASE! KEITH, BRO, PLEASE.”

reads fanfic. look at me in the eyes and try to tell me that ponyboy motherfucking curtis doesn’t read fanfiction.

you can’t.

like bro he’s so desperate for more content of you to the point where he writes the fics he yearns for—got pretty popular to.

“why the fuck is your phone blowing up?”

“PLEASE don’t ask me any questions about it.”

he’s a freak. he knows everything about you. ponyboy’s even began to watch your interview’s about the movie. and your other movies.

literally a teenage girl.

“THEY’RE SO FINE THOUGH, PLEASE!”

“nuh-uh.”

“FUCK YOU MEAN ‘NUH-UH’?”

Johnny Cade ;

seen you when he was watching random movies at the curtis house. at first he was like, ‘wait!! they’re so me coded😛.’ it never occurred to him that you could be so cute.

he seen you crying and something in him like actually snapped.

“wait….am i getting a crush? they’re kinda…”

when he seen the equivalent of ponyboy in this universe snuggled up to you in the church he was soooo jealous.

yk that one audio where it’s like, “how long is he gon’ be talking to my WIFE.” that’s literally johnny cade when he seen that person kiss the top of your head.

“what the fuck?”

“…what do you mean?”

“nothin’. it’s just kinda bullshit that they swoop in and steal my chance😒.”

“you never had one.”

“okay, pal😐.”

heart broke when he seen you in the hospital bed btw. like was full on gripping onto a pillow with tears in his eyes.

johnny was in such denial when he seen you die😭. ‘bro, no. they literally aren’t dead.’/‘guys!! it’s just a prank!!’

when he got to the scene he was in SHAMBLES. HE WAS INCONSOLABLE. ripping his hair out, screaming, crying, allat.

“stay gold…”

“NOOOOOOO-“

was so pissed when you didn’t come back. was even more pissed when your letter was read out loud.

“HOW COULD THEY KILL THEM OFF?? THEY DIDN’T DESERVE IT!”

“johnny, it’s a movie.”

“this is so unfair. i hate movies.”

gets nervous looking at photos of you. like to the point where he tries to look up your name on pinterest before bailing mid sentence and giggling. like full on throwing his phone across the room, kicking his feet.

will talk for hours about you. thinks your the coolest character ever!! defends you like his life depends on it.

“they killed someone?”

“so?? you’re acting like you wouldn’t do it to🤣🤣 fake ahh friend.”

—

“they legit can’t stand up for themselves. you want someone like that to be out walking them streets?”

“oh, god for bid a person has trauma. and YES I DO🗣️. i hope they walk right into my arms, HO.”

all said online btw. he would never ruin his ego by speaking like this. i am a strong believer johnny cade puts up a strong front online.

johnny literally thinks you’re the cutest person he’s ever seen. like his cheeks get so hot when he thinks about you and he gets a silly little smile on his face.

he looks at photos of you and his friends think he has a little girlfriend.

“who you textin’, johnnycakes?”

“nobody-uh!”

“c’mon—we see that smile!”

and it’s literally just you with blood dripping down your face.

Dallas Winston ;

caught a glimpse of you at some girls house he slept at. literally stopped dead in his tracks as he seen you light a cigarette before mumbling, ‘nothin’ legal, man.’

“i-uh, what movie’s this?”

“huh? oh, the outsiders. pretty good movie.”

he thanked her and threw on his jacket before speed walking to bucks place. he had to watch this movie or he’s actually lose it.

imagine buck’s bar is actually a house, kay? dallas sits his pretty little ass on that couch, flips to whatever streaming service, and turns on ‘the outsiders.’

thought it was all boring until he seen you walk into frame—mocking the main character. at that very moment he was all, ‘wait that’s kinda hot.’

seeing you help the two younger ones run away while still acting tough was so attractive to him. dallas felt like he was losing his mind.

seeing you run in after the two into the church kinda made his knees weak.

“BAE NO!”

“what the hell are you screamin’ ‘bout?”

“nothin’, buck…”

he was so scared that you’d die in the fire. (little did old dallas know am i right fellas!!!!) like i swear to god he was so scared you’d end up like the johnny in this universe.

WHEN HE SEEN YOU FIGHTINGGG. he went feral. dallas was like so flustered. he was trying so hard to hide his blush to the ghosts around him with his hair.

his flush was short lived however. seeing you cry and then literally point a gun at a cashier was lowkey whiplash for him.

“what the fuck is happening?”

dallas figured out what was gonna happen early on and started kinda tearing up. like one tear formed in his eye before he blinked it away. but he was still devastated.

WHEN DALLY HEARD SOMEONE SCREAM “they’re just a kid!” he lost it. like actually. he went limp on the couch and spaced out. like damn…his fiancé, who doesn’t know they’re his fiancé yet, really WAS just a kid.

nobody knows he likes the outsiders OR that he has a crush on you. and they CAN’T know, it’s way too embarrassing. like actually.

when he’s with the gang and he’s just casually scrolling on tiktok and he sees the tags with your name, he immediately favourites it and scrolls. he saved it for later when he’s alone.

also defends you like there’s no tomorrow.

“they were hitting on someone who had a partner??”

“okay?? fucking live a little jesus.”

—

“THEY’RE A FUCKING CRIMINAL?”

“i’m into it tho lmfao”

swears up and down that if you and him were in a room together—you’d have a crush on him. top tier delusion.

like if he gets drunk with keith, he will rant about it.

“no—hear me out. put me in a room with y/n l/n and i swear to god they’re gonna be madly in love with me.”

“no they won’t, dallas.”

“yuh-huh.”

looks at photos of you and probably has you as his pfp on his spam. includes you in every other photo dump.

Sodapop Curtis ;

seen an edit of you on tiktok and audibly gasped. full on went, “WHO IS THATT😜” went to the tags and just scrolled under it for a good long while.

he seen a angst edit of you and made up his mind that he had to watch the movie.

for the while that you weren’t on screen, he was trying to push through. he really was. but deep down—in his head he was screaming, “BORING! SHOW ME THE PRETTY ONE!!”

when sodapop seen you tending to your younger sibling he could’ve sworn he was on cloud 9.

“my turn when :/.”

WHEN SODA SEEN YOU GET OUT OF THE SHOWERRR😭😭. he lost his BREATH like was full on gripping his imaginary pearls.

had to take a breather to walk around the house before unpausing the movie. had a blush across his cheeks, i can’t even lie.

when he learned that you were described as, “movie star attractive,” all he did was nod. like,

“mhm. i always knew my fiancé was good looking.”

SODA WAS APPALLED WHEN HE FOUND OUT THAT YOUR PARTNER CHEATED ON YOU. like jaw was on the FLOOR.

“I COULD TREAT THEM BETTER🗣️🗣️ THEY KNOW WHERE HOME IS!!”

he is so open about his little crush in you—it’s so cute :(

“steve, look at ‘em.”

“i see them—get your fuckin’ phone outta my face.”

“aren’t they so perfect??🤭🤭”

“i guess.”

“well, BACK OFF. we’re already happily married.”

“in your dreams maybe.”

“oh my god.”

soda has you as his pfp on at least two platforms. his name on one platform is “y/n’s boyfriend (REAL!)”

seeing you run out on your siblings after they grouped you into your argument made him just wanna hug you so bad. like he just wanted to tell you it was all gonna be okay.

has a album in his photos where it’s edits of you and photos. giggles and twirls his hair as he looks at it.

Darry Curtis ;

his parents used to watch the movie all the time and you’ve always just been a life long crush of his.

like when younger darry seen you walk into frame, comforting your kid sibling, something in his head snapped.

suddenly everything was in slow motion, there were hearts everywhere, he had rose coloured glasses on, and for some reason—harps play in the background.

as darry grew up it literally never went away. whenever the outsiders comes on when he’s home he always still goes, “woah.😍😍”

like he thinks you’re so fine.

he doesn’t like watch edits, read fanfic—none of that🗣️. but if he gets asked who is celebrity crush is—your name is coming out of his mouth ASAP.

“so, darry, who’s your celebrity cru-“

“y/n l/n.”

“but they’re a character?”

“Y/N L/N.”

he has like ONE printed out photo of you in his room from years ago. he knows exactly where it is and where to hide it, but he still keeps it.

at least once every two months, when everyone’s asleep and he has no work the next day, he’ll stay up just to watch the movie.

he’ll have a budlight in his hand as he watches you absolutely DEMOLISH at the rumble.

“i always knew they’d win.”

“you’ve watch this movie a thousand times.”

“PONYBOY?!”

the gang eventually found out his little crush on you. only light teasing ‘cause they’re so scared they’ll get that darry smoke if they push him further😭😭.

“oh my god! look, darry! you’re little crush is on screen!”

“steve, i will beat some sense into you if you don’t shut up.”

“…okay, bud.”

—

“when’s the weddin’?”

“after your funeral, keith.”

“wow. hater.”

Steve Randle ;

his dad fell asleep on the couch one night with this old movie playing in the background.

steve was about to turn it off before he caught a glimpse of you offering this half naked person some cake. he was all, ‘WAITTTT🙈🙈!!’

like he seen you in that sleeveless jacket and immediately fell in love. literally was on a mission to figure out who you were.

when he did? all he wanted to do was watch the outsiders. WHEN HE SEEN YOU SCOLDING THE MAIN CHARACTER HE SOO KNEW YOU WERE HIS TYPE

“wish they’d scold me like that…damn…😞✊”

was TWEAKING SOO HARD WHEN HE SEEN YOU ALL BLOODY WITH YOUR HEAD THROWN BACK.

“…you think i look tuff?”

“YES BAE!!!”

making his name on like insta or something, “y/n’s HUSBAND.” he puts emphasis on the husband because he believes that you want him so bad.

like actually. he’s fucking delusional.

“guys…they like cake…and I LIKE CAKE! do you see my vision??”

“no??”

“man, fuck you.”

photo dumps on insta of pictures of you with the caption, “from our honeymoon 😍😍😛😛!” his friends are ripping him apart in comments btw.

WOULD GO FOR WAR FOR YOU.

“they’re actually so gross what.”

“YOU’RE GROSS!🗣️ KEEP THEM OUT OF YOUR MOUTH YOU FOOL!!”

—

“they have 0 depth.”

“0 depth to YOU. to ME they’re the love of my life.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

seen the outsiders when he was drunk. he didn’t remember anything that night but the cute lil’ actor who was laughing after flirting with some rich lookin’ kid.

the only thing he remembers saying that night was,

“damn—when is it MY TURN😩😞”

WENT ON A FUCKING HUNT TO FIND THIS MOVIE ISTG. he was looking up shit that didn’t even matter to the plot—so he got different movies each time.

‘cute actor flirting’

‘cute actor in old ass movie’

‘mickey mouse shirt’

‘when was mickey mouse created’

‘who is walt disney’

he got a little distracted but that’s not the point. two-bit found the movie and cried tears of joy. fell to his knees and all😭.

he immediately turned the outsiders on and waited to see you. HE WAS SOO SAD TO FIND OUT YOU HAD LIKE SUCH LITTLE SCREENTIME.

but he worked with it. he was taking SO MUCH PHOTOS OF HIS TV WHEN YOU WERE ON SCREEN LMFAO. they were all so shaky too😭😭.

doesn’t shut the fuck up about you.

“they want me so bad🤣🤣😂😂.”

“they wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, keith.”

“what if i killed myse-”

—

“they’re so find i won’t ‘em.”

“what the fuck are you saying?”

“what are YOU SAYING? back up.”

saves edits of you. he is ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE OF PERSON TO SAY THE MOST OUT OF POCKET SHIT ABOUT YOU IN THE COMMENTS LMFAOOO

‘they could beat the shit out of me and i thank them :3’

‘WHAT?’

‘omg who said that’

you are his profile picture everywhere. and anywhere.

genuinely believe you’re the love of his life. i swear to god he does. KING OF DELUSION ABOVE ALL ELSE!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit matthews x reader #steve randle x reader #LUV THIS CONCEPT!!! #like you’re the movie character and he’s the real person #like idk you’re the dallas and he’s the real person giggling over u. #feels so good to write like this again!!! teehee!!

[autisticlancemcclain]

part one

———

They’re not careless.

But they’re not careful, either.

They’ve never bothered discussing whether or not they’re trying to be discreet. It was always just the natural way they went about things. Their friends already have so much to worry about, so much to reckon with. It’s a waste of their limited time to sit them down and announce to them that they’re — what, sleeping together?

This is what Keith tells himself.

He sees the hurt in Lance’s eyes, when he flinches away from his touch. He knows it’s worse still because he is an instigator, because he is so fucking incapable of keeping his hands to himself. His palm will find the small of Lance’s back like a magnet to steel, his shoulder will soften itself so Lance can rest his head. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, half the time, doesn’t notice the way he seeks out Lance’s hand or crowds too close to him until he catches someone’s eye, watching them, and springs apart, flings Lance’s away from him like he’s been burned.

I love you.

Isn’t that reason enough?

In the morning Keith wakes up sweltering. In the back of his mind, as it always does, burns the skin-crawling feeling of being watched. There’s no one in the bedroom and he knows it, but shame runs down his spine anyway. Suddenly the blankets twisting his and Lance’s legs together are binding, and the press of their sweat-slick skin tigger is revolting, sticky. The nausea that churns lowly in his belly at all times bubbles infinitely more aggressively than usual, and Keith knows if he doesn’t extract himself immediately he’ll explode; chunks of him will hit the walls and his blood will paint the tile floor. He inches under his skin, bile coats the back of his throat, heart pounding so fast it’s a him.

A low, quiet quiet groaning noise startled the hell out of him. He looks over and Lance is shifting, sliding his arms out from under the pillow and turning slightly, so he’s facing Keith instead of the wall, hands curled into his chest and under his chin.

There’s a pillow crease steamed across his cheek, and his face is smushed by the pillow, forcing his lips to pucker.

Keith smiles.

The roaring in his head quiets somewhat. Without thinking he reaches out his hand, fingertips tracing the creased skin of Lance’s cheek so lightly he hardly touches with anything more than his callouses. His skin is warm to the touch, but not overly so.

Keith lets out a long, hard breath. His heart rate slows. He traces the pucker of Lance’s lip, feeling the curve of his cupid’s bow, noting the tiny scars from where Lance picks the skin when he’s bored or nervous.

Slowly, as if a string is pulling them together, Keith leans down. Somewhere between his pillow and Lance’s his eyes close, and the press of their lips is that much softer.

It should be gross. They both have morning breath, and minutes ago the thought of their bare skin touching made Keith want to throw up, but now the press of Lance’s chapped lips to his is addicting and calming and electrifying.

“Mmf.”

Lance stirs, groggy and half awake, but it’s — this is not the first time he’s woken to Keith’s closeness.

It takes him a few seconds to boot up, for his brain to catch up with the way his hands are already sliding up the back of Keith’s neck, tangling in his hair. Keith knows he’s awake when he feels the flutter of Lance’s absurdly long eyelashes against his cheekbones, when his mouth stretches into a grin too wide to kiss properly.

“Hi,” he mumbles happily. He keeps one hand on the base of Keith’s skull, letting the other one slide coyly down the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his chest, the line of hair under his navel, resting cheekily on the top of his waistband. Every brush of his fingers washes away the burn shame still lingering. “You’re touchy this morning.”

Keith hums. He presses his lips to the corner of Lance’s mouth, to his cheek, to his jaw, down his neck. His stubble must be too light on Lance’s skin because he laughs, airy, smacking his palm on Keith’s scapula. Keith snickers, rubbing his cheek harder along his neck just to make him shriek, revelling in the way Lance wraps his legs around his hips to try and flip him but can’t, the way he shoves and pinches but lets up the second Keith starts to suck a bruise on his collarbone.

He’s so easy.

“Keith,” Lance whines, but it’s breathy and Keith wants to swallow to sound. “Keith, we’re disgusting. Your breath stinks and if I don’t shower I’m going to hurt somebody. Probably you. Do you want me to hurt you?”

Keith reaches up, pressing Lance’s fingers deeper into the flesh of his shoulder, and lets his silence speak for him.

Lance snorts, and Keith knows he has him because he melts visibly. “You dog.”

The hand in Keith’s hair starts to move, combing through the tangled strands, scratching gently at his scalp. Keith doesn’t let up, but he softens in kind, letting his lips on Lance’s skin morph into something softer, more chaste.

“We can screw in the shower?” he offers, voice hopeful. “That’s a good compromise.”

It is a good compromise, but Keith is feeling bold (i love you isn’t that reason enough it’s physical you have ruined everyone you ever loved it’s physical it’s physical it’s physical), so he sets out to guarantee Lance will bend.

He pulls away from Lance’s neck, just slightly, and looks up from under his lashes, widening his eyes just so.

And watched with great pleasure as Lance crumbles.

He shoves Keith’s face away, red-cheeked and huffy, throwing off the covers and stomping to the ensuite. He grumbles all the way there, much of it too low for Keith to hear but much more of it loud and pointed and intentional (Keith knows what zorra means, thanks.)

“I want to actually shower,” Lance says sternly, water droplets flicking off his wagging finger and landing on Keith’s nose.

Keith nods sagely. “We will.”

“In decent time, Akira.”

“Of course.”

“I have stuff to do today.”

“Me too.”

“Minimal shenanigans.”

“Minute.”

The shower lasts well over an hour.

“Wipe the smirk off your face,” Lance demands, but his lips are twitching, too,

Keith grabs him by the waist and dips him, laughing, kissing him soundly and wholly and he wonders what the fuck is his problem. He wonders why he has to be so goddamn resistant to things, why he works himself up so bad, why any of that shit matters. Why can’t he have this? Why can’t he have — one good thing, the one; why can’t he have Lance’s gun-calloused palms on his cheeks and smile pressed to his and deep dark brown eyes warm and pretty and happy and pointed at him? Why can’t he have that? Why can’t things be good and simple, why can’t this be something he can fall into?

I love you.

Isn’t that reason enough?

He’s not careless. He can’t afford to be.

But he’s — loosened. His guard is down. They get dressed and ready for the day and Keith follows Lance out their door and he’s laughing, and his hand is curled around the curve of his waist, and they smell of the same shampoo.

“Does it amuse you to make me late for things, you jackass — oh! Hunk!”

Keith inhales sharp and short. He yanks his hand away like it hurts to keep it there for a second longer, stumbling backwards.

“Hey, guys.”

Something tight and painful coils in his stomach, and his blood turns to lead. Hunk’s expression is carefully, carefully pleasant; soft, even, as he returns Lance’s hug and greeting.

But the pinprick at the back of his neck is back. The shame, hot, crawls down his spine, blooms heavy in the hollow of his chest.

“I’m gonna go — train,” he chokes out, hyperaware of the bruise on Lance’s neck, of the cobweb in the corner of his room, the braid in Keith’s hair; hyperaware of Hunk’s eye on them.

“Aw,” Lance pouts. “You sure?”

Keith can’t manage a verbal response. His throat has closed, aching, dry, desolate. He barely manages a nod.

“We’ll see you at dinner?” Hunk asks, only there’s no request in his voice, and Keith doesn’t miss how his body has curved, slightly; just barely nudging Lance behind him, as if he is to be protected, as if he is to be protected from Keith.

I love you.

You have ruined everything you have ever loved.

Isn’t that reason enough?

Physical, physical, physical.

Keith turns and flees.

#what if keith can not know peace #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #fwb #but not rly #flower crown au #flower crown #keith angst #klangst #brown eyed lance #black paladin keith #red paladin lance #keith has anxiety #and bad #traumatized keith #my writing #fic #longpost

[alluraaaa]

i do very much like the idea of baby butch lesbian pidge. or futch or however we wanna diagnose what she’s got going on in canon. but i’ve always seen her having a love/hate relationship with her femininity

when she first came out as trans she was veeery little and flocked to femininity like coming home. it was so easy to put on dresses and grow out her hair and play with girl toys. she wanted to!! and katie rolls off the tongue much easier than any other name, but her annoying brother still calls her that old nickname sometimes :/

(but it’s fine. it was pidge from pigeon. it was her first word. for some reason.)

and when she decides to sneak into the garrison detransitioning for the time being made sense. they’re looking out for a girl. with long hair. it’s the best plan she’s got. it’s for her family she can do it. she can do it she can just pick up the scissors… and…

pidge keeps his head down. doesn’t talk much, even to the two (other) guys he’s grouped with. doesn’t talk to them even as they all get launched into space with two more men. just five boys in a giant lion. guys night, right?

but soon enough it gets clear this isn’t temporary. this is real. they’re in this together. they have to mind meld and get along and be on the same wavelength twenty four fucking seven. pidge has to come clean.

so she does. she’s a girl. the name has grown on her but she’s a girl she’s she.

and the team accepts it. loves her regardless. hell, even saw through her botched haircut.

so… yay. she’s a girl and they know. but would they be okay with her being… girly? she’s missed the dresses and the hair and pretty flowers. yeah allura is all those things and they all like her just fine but would it be weird if pidge just suddenly gets girly? she likes the masc look too but damn she misses heels sometimes. she hates having to deal with her shortness

one day allura weasels all of this out of her and allura doesn’t take no for an answer. so pidge is dolled up in one of allura’s best dresses, face beat to the gods, hair done in the girliest style they can manage with her… whole situation. and she’s beaming at her reflection

then allura drags her to dinner, hiking up the skirt so she doesn’t trip over herself as she gets into her seat. pidge toughens up and waits for the laughs to hit her. for someone to assume pidge got roped into this and secretly hates it. the “uhh… who are you and what have you done with pidge?”

but none of that happens. shiro says she looks nice. keith likes the hair. hunk likes the dress. lance demands to get dolled up next.

if anyone notices pidge’s immovable smile for the rest of dinner, they don’t comment on it. and they don’t bat an eye when skirts and dresses make their way into the rotation of pidge’s outfits right alongside her pants and overalls

#my femmasc futch girlypop #txt #pidge #headcanon #longer than i thought. and this is the short version #she accociates femininity with being a kid in school and being bullied by those kids. they didn’t bully pidge they bullied katie #and other such thoughts #but allura would murder all of them in her sparkliest gown. so who cares what they think <3

[girlboypersonthingy]

paladins (ESP PIDGE AND KEITH) x chubby read plz🛐

HELL YESSSS as a chubby reader myself, I LOVE THIS!!! So this is going to get a bit body specific just fyi. Also this gets a little suggestive, mostly just getting handsy and making out. I’ve included my fav 3 paladins ❤️💙💚 Thank you again for requesting, anon ILY 🖤 ENJOY~

UPDATE: I posted a part 2 with Shiro, Hunk and Matt. Go check it out HERE 🖤💛🧡

Keith, Lance and Pidge x chubby reader~

KEITH ❤️

Dude…your hips drive him CRAZY. He loves to hold onto them as he leans in for a kiss. He just thinks all of you feels good to grab onto. When y’all are in private, he’s just letting his hands wander your whole body…with your consent of course.

He’s like “Hey…uh (Y/N)? C-can I uh…touch y-your. Sorry. Can I grab your- well not grab. Th-that’s NOT what I meant. Ugh, Shit…” and you eventually decide to end his suffering by grabbing his hands and leading the way, showing him exactly where you want them.

He LOVES training and sparring with you.

Bc he gets to be as handsy as he wants with you without it being weird

Bc you can totally hold your own against him. Sure, you’re chubby but you’re strong and you stand your ground so well. You’re a good challenge for him.

Bc he wants to show off and impress you. You know this boy would try SO HARD to flex on you during training. Plz admire and compliment him.

If he ever hears even a slightly rude comment from anyone about your weight or the way you look (it definitely wouldn’t be from the other paladins tho) he’s gonna immediately go sicko mode on them. Boy would kill someone for you for real.

If you’re ever sad about it, he’s not exactly the best at comforting you but he really tries. He’ll hold you close and either rub his hands over your skin softly or he’ll gently pet your hair.

He’s honestly just confused like ??? But you’re so hot…who cares if you’re a little chubby? He’s just so chill about it. It’s obviously never bothered him. He thinks you’re gorgeous regardless.

Every time you two are having a steamy make out session, he can’t help but squeeze different parts of you. He pulls you to lay on top of him and kisses you softly as his hands feel their way around. You’re so soft, physically and emotionally. You make him feel so comfy and content.

Keith doesn’t seem like the type to really even care about body types tho. If he vibes with you, then that’s all that matters. 🤷🏻

BUT he does like that you have a little something extra to offer him~

LANCE 💙

HE THINKS YOU ARE SO FUCKIN GOOD LOOKING ASHDJJDJJJK 😍

He’s a tall lanky boy and he likes that you’re thicker than him. He thinks your physical differences make you guys a really cute couple.

He wants to make you feel good about yourself ALWAYS so he flirts very strategically with you. He uses specific pick up lines that make you feel good about being chubby.

“(Y/N), as long as I have a face, you’ll always have a place to sit.” Omfg what a perv.

“If I told you that you have a bangin body, would you hold it against me?” Boy bye.

“Yeah, anybody can fly in a straight line. It takes a REAL pilot to handle the curves~” GOODBYE HE’S SO CHEESY

If he ever even suspected that anyone was talking shit about your weight or how you look, he’d try to distract you and calmly lead you away from the situation. Then he’d try to get all kissy and grabby and show you how much he adores you and your body.

If you’re ever sad about your weight or appearance, he’s shutting that thought down immediately. He’s totally felt insecure about his own physique before so he kinda gets it. He always reassures you that you are so freaking cute and that he loves every single inch of you.

You often catch him staring at you with wide eyes and an open, drooly mouth. “Uhm can I help you?” “Huh? Oh, no…sorry. Heh.” And he’s turning bright red as he continues to try and sneak glances at you. The way your clothes fit to you is just unfair. He can’t focus when you’re in the room, bending down, leaning over, teasing him.

When you two are getting kissy and handsy, he always pulls you into his lap and grips your thick thighs. Boy has a thing for your thighs. He wants those things wrapped around his head right now.

With Lance, it’s not just that your body doesn’t bother him, it’s that he actually REALLY likes your body. He loves the way you look, he thinks you are perfect and wouldn’t change a single thing.

PIDGE 💚

Oh my god, they are so into you. They’re so tiny and they just want you to hold them in your big warm arms.

When y’all first met, they were just thinking ‘oh my god, you’re so cute. I’d literally let you step on me.’

You wouldn’t think Pidge is super touchy but with you, they are always trying to initiate physical touch.

They like to lay their head on your thigh as they code on their computer. They like to lay on top of you in bed, their head on your chest as it rises and falls with each breath. Most of all, they LOVE being your little spoon when they are upset and in need of comfort. Their head is cushioned by your arm, your other arm is wrapped around their torso and they’re just so comfy. They are sad for like 5 seconds and then they are SNORING. You calm them down like no one else.

Pidge definitely isn’t as kissy and handsy as the boys are, but they CRAVE your touch. They just want you to hold them so tightly that they can’t inhale another breath. They want you to smother them with your love.

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GIVE THEM PIGGY BACK RIDES THEY LOVE IT. Just carry them around in any position and their little heart is melting. The best is when they fall asleep on the floor or at a desk while doing their work and you pick them up and carry them to bed. They wake up like “huh?” And then they see you in their bed, cuddling up to them and they have so many feelings for you rn wow.

They are always cold so when you come in the room, they’re like “forget a sweater. Get over here.” And you proceed to hold them close, keeping them warm as they tap away on their laptop.

Pidge is a loud mouth, not afraid of anything or anyone so if they overhear some negative things being said about your body or weight, they immediately start talking shit right back. “WHAT WAS THAT?! OH REALLY??? GET OVER HERE AND SAY IT AGAIN, I DARE YOU.” They will not hesitate to verbally AND physically tear someone apart in your honor.

If you are feeling sad and insecure, Pidge will stop everything they are doing, which always surprises you, and take you back to their room for cuddles. They like to switch roles sometimes and pull you to lay on top of them. You worry that you’ll hurt them or make them uncomfortable but they refuse to let you move off of them. “No, please. You’re like a weighted blanket, I love this.” And they do. They love this more than anything.

One of the best parts about being plus size and dating Pidge is that they have no shame, about the way they look, the way they eat, the way they dress, the way they sit. So you feel so secure when you eat in front of them or when you wear something that maybe isn’t the most flattering on your body. They don’t give a single fuck, you’re cute 24/7, 365, no matter what in their opinion.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #voltron x reader #voltron x you #keith kogane #keith voltron #keith x reader #keith vld #vld keith #vld #lance mcclain #lance voltron #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #lance vld #vld lance #pidge gunderson #katie holt #pidge voltron #pidge x reader #pidge vld #vld pidge #voltron fandom

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 17: Accidental Kink Discovery (Smutty Sunday)

Rated: T for suggestive language/flirtatious banter (y'know me, more silly than spice!)

“I hate it!” Eddie spits through gritted teeth.

He shakes his fists to the heavens, which jingle-jangles the bells on the green hat, collar and shirt hem of his costume.

Steve chuckles from his vantage point on the edge of the bed, impossibly charmed by what is a faint tinkling to his own ears as Eddie grumbles at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

He rakes his eyes down the back of his boyfriend’s seething and tense frame. He stops at Eddie’s legs, looking positively gangly in a pair of green tights. Long, too, as they disappear up under a tiny pair of green shorts with a red felt trim and –

Oh, no.

Steve gulps.

“What?” Eddie snaps, whipping around.

He scrunches his nose like he could hiss.

“Nothing!” Steve splutters, folding his arms tight and shrugging as he tries not to think about Eddie in a complementary pair of festive underpants – 

Oh, no.

He puffs out a breath, looking anywhere but at Eddie and his scowl.

“I should have never let Joyce talk me into applying for a job at Melvad’s,” Eddie rambles, half-muttering his words, “Why couldn’t you have charmed Keith into giving me some shifts at Family Video? At least I wouldn’t have to dress as a goddamn elf.”

Jingle-jangle.

Steve looks up just as Eddie stomps his foot.

His shoes jingle-jangle too.

“Gah! Fuck!” Eddie curses and freezes on the spot, arms tight by his sides.

“I can’t help it if my work vest is already green,” Steve teases, shrugging innocently, “Besides, Keith currently has you banned for ‘distracting staff’.”

His air quotations only make Eddie bristle. He lifts his right hand, likely to worry with a lock of his hair. But his fingers snag his jester-like collar.

Jingle-jangle.

Eddie splutters away with what Steve can only assume is a series of incoherent expletives as he begins to hop on the spot to wrestle one shoe off and hurl it across the room.

At least that’s what Steve assumes Eddie’s full-body throw is intended to do. But the lightweight shoe only makes it about a foot before it softly falls to the ground.

Eddie shrieks and then dips his head to dry sob into his hands.

“I look so stupid,” he laments, “I don’t want to be an elf.”

He looks up all doe-eyed and Steve can’t help but think how nice his hair looks under the elf hat, his locks sitting in place to perfectly frame his face. Even if Eddie doesn’t want to be an elf, he looks cute as hell as one.

Fuck it. What happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom, right?

“Don’t worry,” Steve says, lowering from the bed to the floor, “It’s only for a few days, right?”

“What the hell are you doing!” Eddie recoils, glistening eyes going wide as saucers as Steve begins to crawl on his knees towards him.

Jingle-jangle.

He stops in front of his boyfriend and takes his hand, planting it on his shoulder before he dips down for the remaining shoe.

“Helping you take this off...” he explains, voice light as he wraps his hand delicately around Eddie’s ankle.

“Okay…” Eddie hums, raising a sceptical brow even if he shifts his weight onto Steve’s shoulder to steady himself.

Steve bites his bottom lip, trying not to so much as chuckle as every movement Eddie makes sounds off a series of tinny bell sounds. He removes the green felt shoe and tosses it over his shoulder, still holding Eddie’s ankle before carefully lowering it back to the ground.

He looks up, a smile turning to a smirk as Eddie gulps, his eyes flitting down to where Steve still has his hand wrapped around his ankle, soothing it now from the embarrassment and green.

“Stevie…” Eddie frowns.

Steve runs his hand up his green stockinged leg slowly, pausing only when his fingertips skirt the bottom hem of his tantalising green shorts.

“Oh my god!” Eddie exclaims, clawing at his shoulder, “You like this costume, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, running his free hand through his hair.

“Not possible,” Eddie insists, shaking his head and chopping a hand through the air before placing it right back on his shoulder.

Jingle-jangle.

“I do,” Steve insists, flicking a bell on the hem of his shirt now.

“Don’t jingle it,” Eddie spits, jaw clenched.

“What if I jingle you…” he begins, tilting his head to the side as he looks him over, “All the way…”

“Gross!” Eddie shrieks, “That is the worst line you have ever…”

He trails off, a visible blush creeping up his neck as Steve allows his hand to breach the hem of those shorts.

“But,” Steve bites, pressing his fingers into Eddie’s skin, “You have to be a good elf, okay?”

He watches as a myriad of emotions run through Eddie’s eyes before he lands on a similar ‘fuck it’ attitude and goes along with it.

“Sure thing, Santa,” Eddie soon coos, dimples dotting his cheeks as he offers a cherubic smile and a two-finger salute.

Jingle-jangle.

“You have been the naughtiest elf in my workshop,” Steve teases, popping the ‘p’ as he reaches around to grab at Eddie’s ass.

Eddie lurches forward, Steve’s face now flush with his scratchy polyester shirt front.

Jingle-jangle.

#they are just silly idiots in love who will speed-run the most random kink discovery lmao #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddiemas #steve x eddie #steddiemasnaughtylist #👕🧥

[kadorawrites]

New Me - Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Hopper!reader is having a hard time adjusting to normalcy after the disappearance of her father, the death of her tumultuous ex-lover, and losing her only family to California. Instead of turning to her friends, she turns to isolation and partying to cope. Best friend, Steve Harrington, isn't about to let her drown.

Warnings: steve harrington x fem!reader, addiction, drug use

______________________________________________________________

The big sky darkens above the small balcony, where y/n leans against the railing, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She watches the sunset from her new apartment, provided by the police department's pension. She contemplated fixing up the cabin with Steve who offered to help. But the second they pulled up to the painfully familiar place, y/n broke into tears and hasn't worked up the courage to go back since.

She's a new person now, anyways. Barely eighteen, a high school senior, living on her own in some run down apartment building off the main road. Joyce insisted she come with them to California, but the thought of leaving Hawkins without her dad felt wrong. Like he would come back one day and make everything normal again. The Harringtons took her in for a bit until she turned 18, got the life insurance policy, and decided it was time to grow up. Steve would have let her stay with him forever if she wanted to.

But that was a long time ago and he barely recognizes her anymore. She's thinner, skin sunken in, dark circles under her eyes, hair smells like cigarettes, a stoic look on her face whenever they're at work. At least he has that, the only time she's somewhat normal is at the video store where he and Robin begged Keith to give y/n a job. Luckily, she had an extensive Hitchcock knowledge that he found rather impressive and hired her on the spot. Even threatened to fire Steve, which he would have gladly obliged if it meant y/n would get out of the house and have a normal routine.

She wasn't the same though, and Steve had no idea what to do to bring her back. He'd crack jokes as usual, only getting a small smile from her every so often. He invites her to hang out after work almost every shift, yet she declines every time. Steve has an idea what she's doing. Rumors get around in a small town like Hawkins, and when the dead police chief's daughter is seen snorting white powder off some preppies bathroom counter, everyone and their mother hears about it.

Steve refused to believe this new party girl persona. Yeah, they used to get hammered together at parties last year, but what he was hearing about y/n was just not her. It wasn't until he was smacked in the face with the truth one night that he realized his best friend was too far gone.

A few of months ago, at the start of school, one of Steve's many dates dragged him to a high school party. He wandered through the halls in search of bathroom, stumbling into a bedroom. Steve's eyes landed on a half naked y/n, straddling some jock, her skirt pushed up to her waist, her head dangling back as she moaned, the boy's lips attached to her neck. Steve stood paralyzed until y/n looked up at him, her red eyes wide and wild. She gave him a wicked smirk, as the jock pushed into her, then continued her moans, not breaking eye contact with Steve. He shut the door quick, before running down the stairs and into the front lawn. He hunched over, the alcohol coming up, and vomited onto the grass. Steve wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

They never spoke about that night. Hell, he doesn't know if she even remembers it. How could she be so evil? After everything they've been through? After he confessed his feelings for her in the mall bathroom?

But that drug-hazed conversation on the bathroom floor felt like a different life and y/n felt like a different girl. She was class president, soccer captain, life of the party, the chief's daughter who wouldn't take shit from anyone. Now the town pities the sad girl with a dead dad and sister, and an absent mother. The girl with a slight drug addiction and failing grades. The girl who'll sleep with any guy just to feel something.

Back on her balcony she blows smoke out into the sunset, calming her down. A muted pain covers the back of her head, she winces. A drop of blood falls onto the railing. Y/n wipes her nose, trickles of dark red blood smear onto the back of her hand. The pounding in her head beats harder and harder.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcannons #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington dialogue #joe keery #joe keery fic #jim hopper #steve harrington x hopper!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series

[klance-headcanons-official]

KEITH HAS NIGHTMARES!!

Okay, in one of my previous headcanons, Lance got really hurt, right?? (if you don't know what i'm talking about, go read my other stuff).

Okay, so one night, Lance wakes up in the middle of the night, (next to Keith because obviously they share a bed cuz I said so,) to the sound of Keith whimpering and muttering a bunch of incomprehensible stuff, but he's able to make out the sound of his name. It's a constant occurrence, "Lance..." he mutters, and it keeps getting louder, and it's said with more and more fear, "Lance!" and eventually Keith shoots upright in a cold sweat, and Lance is kinda just staring at him with a really worried expression, not knowing what to do.

It takes him a minute to get Keith to calm down, "Shhh, hey, hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here. Talk to me, babe, what's going on?" He asks, it takes him a couple tries, but after a bit, Keith responds with "Don't you ever sacrifice yourself for me again, do you understand?" he says it with a tinge of anger, though mostly fearfulness and worry, "I've lost too much already, I can't lose you, too, Lance." There's an unshakable certainty in his voice, regardless of how much it's shaking.

Lance pulls Keith into his arms, running his fingers through his hair, he plants little kisses all over Keith's face until he finally starts smiling again. They lean their foreheads against each other and Lance is like, cradling Keith's cheek with his hand, you know the thing, and he says in probably the most serious voice Keith has ever heard, "Keith, I swear to you on all the stars we've seen together, I. Am not. Going. Anywhere. I love you far too much to leave you alone, hell, I hardly want to be in a room without you." He takes a minute and sighs, "But you have to understand, in those certain situation, it's your life over mine every time."

Keith looks to the side, upset and a bit defeated.

"But Keith?" Lance pulls their faces a little closer so Keith can feel his breath on his lips, "Even if the worst happens, I want you to know, I'll find you in every lifetime, and I will love every person you become just as I love you now. No matter how many times death takes me away from you or vice-versa, I will always make my way back to you."

Keith smiles and closes the gap between them and they just sit there with each other, it's a bittersweet moment, both knowing that eventually death will take them apart, but also knowing that they have this life, right here and right now, and they treasure it.

(Omg i'm so sorry it's so long my author brain took overrrdgjsfhkjf, I try to make these less like dramatic short stories and more like actual headcanons but i can't help myselfff)

#keith kogane #lance mcclain #voltron #klance #ships #headcanon #vld #light angst #bittersweet #eep

[artiststarme]

Just A Minor Crisis…

Well, I woke up today and had the genius idea of Steve sharing in my crisis. Bon Appétit! Warning: a brief mental breakdown and some mentions of depression

~*~*~*~

Steve was having a midlife crisis. Honestly, it was a long time coming. Over the past three years or so of dealing with the Upside Down and all of its drama, Steve had only broken down like this one time before. It had been right after the events of Starcourt and losing Hopper. He’s fallen into a weeks-long depression that was only appeased by Robin pulling him out of bed to find a new job where they could work together. There may have been a brief sexuality crisis a few weeks after Spring Break too when Steve had seen Eddie with his hair in a bun but that was neither here nor there. 

In the past 24 hours, he’d gotten a tattoo that he was hiding from his friends, quit his job, and made out with a random guy at a gay club in Indy. His life was going off the rails and he didn’t know what to do about that. He needed the money from work to be able to move out of his parent’s oppressive house, probably sooner rather than later. And while the spontaneous tattoo and random making out wasn’t a death sentence, it certainly wouldn’t make things easier on him in the future especially if his parents or friends caught wind of it. 

He wanted to ask for help, so someone could assist him in not flying off the edge without a parachute, but he didn’t want the questions that were sure to accompany it. So, he suffered alone for the first week. 

He practically dropped off the face of the earth, just wallowing in bed at home with his curtains drawn and doors locked. No one was getting through his defenses, not if he could help it. One thing he neglected to consider though was how savvy his friends were. On day eight of becoming a hermit, Eddie and Robin showed up in his room and yanked the comfy covers off of him. 

“C’mon man, get out of bed. What’s going on? We haven’t seen you in like a week,” Eddie said with concern coating his voice. 

“Are you okay, Dingus? Keith said you quit over the phone and no one has heard from you since! Do you know how worried we’ve been? We didn’t even think you were in town because your car isn’t in the driveway otherwise we would’ve broken in sooner!” Robin ranted, poking at his shoulder to get his attention. 

“How did you get in?” Steve whispered, not having enough energy to speak any louder. 

“I picked your lock. It was ridiculously easy by the way, almost concerningly. You might want to get that checked out. Now, why are you avoiding everyone?” Eddie asked him. 

Steve didn’t have the energy to argue with them or field their concern so he just groaned and rolled over. Stupidly, he forgot about the new tattoo on his forearm that was exposed when he flipped. 

“Dude, did you get new ink? I never thought I’d see the day that Steve Harrington would get a tattoo. What the hell?” Steve heard a smacking noise and a whimper of pain before he felt Robin climb in his bed to curl up with him. 

“Steve? Please talk to me. Is this another depressive episode? It’s okay if it is but please don’t shut me out. We’re really worried about you. The tattoo looks great by the way! It looks just like your real bat!”

Steve’s tattoo was an image of his nail-bat on the outside of his right forearm. He’d wanted to get something spontaneous but still meaningful and there was nothing more meaningful than protecting the kids that have looked up to him for years. The pain of getting the tattoo was addicting too, he was already planning more despite the suffocating depression threatening to choke him.

“Yeah?” Steve cleared his throat harshly as he tried to speak after his days-long silence. “You like it?”

Robin nodded exuberantly while Eddie took a seat at the edge of the bed. “It’s totally metal, dude! It makes you look even more handsome, Stevie.”

When his eyes widened, Eddie backtracked. “Not that you weren’t handsome before! You were pretty, still are pretty! I just really like tattoos and it like, it adds to your prettiness! Because you’re pretty!”

Steve watched him flounder until eventually, Eddie cut himself off with an aggrieved hand to his mouth. “Thanks, Eds.”

He gave him a stilted nod before Robin took pity on him and pulled Steve’s attention away from Eddie’s reddening cheeks. “So are you having an episode? We can go downstairs to cuddle and watch movies. Munson and I took time off work for a couple of days to spend time with you.”

Steve felt tears spring to his eyes but nodded nonetheless. “That would be great. I missed you guys and I’m sorry I pulled away, it’s just-”

“No apologies necessary, Stevie. We’re here now and we can help you out. Now c’mon, I want to judge your movie selection,” Eddie said, offering him a hand out of bed. 

They would deal with Steve’s coping skills and shaky mental health later. The rest of their night was spent watching crappy movies, eating junk food, and cuddling with each other. If Robin saw Eddie and Steve holding hands, well, that was no one’s business but her own.

Permanent tag list:@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium

#Robin absolutely smacked Eddie's arm when she thought he was making fun of his tattoo #physical violence is sometimes the answer #Poor Steve I'm just torturing this guy left and right #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Family Video

steddie, omegaverse, mdni 🔞

Eddie’s putzing around in the horror section at Family Video when the bell over the door jingles. He glances without thinking, shocked to see Robin Buckley lead Steve Harrington inside.

He’s nosy, wants to know what the hell is up with that. But he also doesn’t want to attract Keith’s attention. Eddie’s taking his time to hang in the A/C as long as possible, nearly an hour already.

Not that Buckley is capable of being quiet, so he hears plenty.

How they’re job hunting and how Robin probably knows more about film than Keith does. How Steve Fuckin’ Harrington likes Return of the Jedi! Even if he can’t remember the title and calls ewoks teddy bears. 

Color Eddie surprised.

Add in Steve’s bright, colorblocked outfit and his swoopy hair, the way he absolutely takes out the Fast Times promotional standee and hurries to fix it, resume in his mouth like an enthusiastic labrador retriever.

Embarrassingly, Eddie realizes he’s been pumping out his campfire and marshmallow scent, too charmed to lock down his sudden interest, subconsciously trying to draw in the stupidly endearing omega.

He figures he should go before he actually catches any attention, dipping around the counter and out the door, but not before he hears Buckley and Harrington get hired on the spot.

It’s easy enough for Eddie to memorize Steve’s schedule, only going to rent movies while he’s working. Sometimes he drags the guys with him, or maybe just Jeff, giving more cover to surreptitiously stare at the moles on Steve’s neck.

“You aren’t being nearly as sneaky as you think,” Jeff mutters on more than one occasion . “Just go talk to him.”

“Can’t.” Eddie keeps Jeff between himself and the counter, eyes on the slasher movies like he’s agonizing over his decision.

“Why not?”

“Cuz I’ll say something stupid like, ‘Please, sit on my face, I wanna drown in your pussy.’ That’s why,” Eddie whispers, risking a glance towards Steve.

“What? Seriously!”

“Have you seen what a mess he is now? And add in that apple pie scent—my mouth is watering and my dick is—”

“Christ! I’m sorry I asked. But I still think you should talk to him.” Jeff turns his attention to the shelf in front of them. “Nightmare on Elm Street?” he asks, reaching for the case.

“Yeah…” Then Eddie stares as Jeff brings the tape up to the counter, his best friend effortlessly making small talk and laughing as he rents the movie. Like a coward, Eddie hurries out of the video store, waiting for Jeff in his van.

When Eddie goes to return the tape the next day, he’s surprised when Steve looks at Robin and says, “I’m going on my break,” even as he accepts the tape from Eddie, their fingers brushing.

“Yeah, whatever,” Robin answers, flipping through a magazine.

Broad fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist and drag him back to the Family Video break room past the “Employees Only” sign.

Steve smiles at him as he closes the door behind them. “Sorry. Just got tired of waiting for you to make a move.”

“What?” Eddie has never known Steve Harrington to be the kind of omega who waits for an alpha.

“You aren’t doing a very good job of controlling your scent.”

Eddie gulps, cheeks heating.

“And your friend said you were super into me, which… Yeah, definitely picked up on that.”

Nodding, Eddie waits for his tongue to untie, pretty sure he’s gonna die first when Steve steps closer, presses his hand to Eddie’s chest. “You surprised me,” he manages to say.

“Sorry about that.” Steve doesn’t look sorry at all as he leans in, sniffs at Eddie’s neck. “I’m too used to Robin, bad at personal space with pack.”

“Not what I meant—the ewoks—I mean. Shit. Wait.” Eddie closes his eyes, Steve’s scent filling his nose and making him warm. He smells safe. Familiar.

“Yes?” Steve murmurs, hand moving up to touch the skin above the collar of Eddie’s shirt.

“Not pack, what do you mean bad at personal space with pack?”

“Can tell you should be pack.” He nuzzles at Eddie’s cheek and whispers, “Want to be your pack.”

Eddie gives into his instincts then, whining and holding Steve’s face still, bringing their mouths together. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Steve clearly does as he gentles the kiss, grinning as he pulls away.

“My shift ends at seven. Meet me at my place at seven-thirty.”

Eddie nods. “Uh-huh, yep, whatever you say.”

Steve glances up at the clock. “But we’ve still got six minutes before my break ends, and you need to practice,” he teases, pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.

#steddie #omegaverse #ficlet #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #thirsty thursday #stranger things fic

[leeloooonfire]

I've got another Steddie fic idea, so here we go again (caution: its LONG):

Steve, who starts to work as a youth worker in San Francisco; grows an eco friendly veggie garden and finally falls in love.

For a long time, Steve feels lost. With the Upside Down closed and his friends save, he feels like he lost all his purpose. No more monsters to hunt, no more bodily protecting the people he loves.

Then, Robin goes to New York and Nancy and Jonathan leave, too. Working alone at the video store is shit with Keith breathing down his neck.

And then, after healing, Max is the first to get a driver licence, and therefore all the kids don't need him to drive them around town.

It's like everything he's good at isn't needed anymore.

What the hell is he supposed to do? Work with his dad? Work at the store until he's old with a beer belly and significantly less hair on his head?

Shit, no way.

So, when Eddie, yes, EDDIE, asks him if he wants to leave good ol' Hawkins behind and move to San Francisco instead, Steve agrees.

It's not like he has better things to do, and with Eddie by his side, he's not gonna be alone.

At first, Eddie works at a shady bar while Steve, who has always been the driver, works as a taxi driver. From 8pm to 4am, he takes on customer and after picks up Eddie to go home to their 1-bedroom bungalow and the meager garden. They sleep in one bed, feet tangled, curly hair in Steve's mouth and boxed rips. It's not perfect, but Steve, who has always been so utterly alone, loves it. It doesn't matter that Eddie is a dude, and Steve is straight (or is he?!).

During the day, Steve tries to grow some plants, because San Francisco might be cool, but expensive as fuck.

It works fine, they are both happier than they've been in Hawkins, but Steve still feels like he's missing something. Like - all of this- is still not enough.

One time in the middle of the night, he sees a girl standing by a bus stop who seems to be younger than his kids in Hawkins, and he can't just drive away. She just looks so - lost.

He asks her if he can call someone for her or help in any way. And surprisingly, she agrees and asks him to drive her to her youth worker.

While Steve thinks, she shouldn't trust a stranger with a car, he is also thankful it is him and not a random dude who might hurt her.

So, he drives her to the youth worker, a woman not much older than him who takes him in for a coffee before he picks up another customer.

They talk, and talk, and Steve...well.

Steve falls in love with her work.

She invites him to come to their office the next day, which he does.

She asks him, if he could ever imagine to work with kids. He fills out an application for the job.

She wonders if he is alright with the prospect of having to absolve a training. He signs up for it.

Again, it's not perfect, but Steve goes home after work relieved and content. He is needed again, and what he does...he does well. Good even!

The teens open up to him, they look up to him and some even let him help them to fight for a better future.

And Eddie?

Eddie stops working at the bar and learns how to cook, to bake, to use what Steve and he grow in their garden, and when he feels confident in his own creatings (he'd always been able to bake some SICK plant-based brownies 😌👌), he opens up a place that is neither just a restaurant nor a coffee shop nor a bar. It's all combined - its food with coffee and live music three times a week.

It's a place for the gays, the girls, the non binary pals. It's a home for the teens who work with Steve and need a place to get a warm meal, a place to shower or sleep a few nights.

It's a home. Because it's Eddie's, and Eddie becomes his home.

Three years in San Francisco, they have the money to get their own places, to stop sharing a bed, but Steve doesn't want to. And Eddie doesn't ask for it. Instead, they start saving money for a house with a bigger garden. They get 4 birds (called Frodo, Sam, Merri and Pipin - and Steve doesn't get the joke), nurse a hedgehog to health, buy an avocado tree and a new, bigger bed.

It's only natural to wake up one morning with Eddie's toes pressed against his leg and the intense urge to kiss Eddie senseless.

And so he does, hands tangled in Eddie's hair, and ignores Eddie's whispered "fucking finally".

#steddie #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfiction prompts

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Keith?”

Keith hums. “Yeah, Lance?”

Lance doesn’t answer right away. Keith can hear his breathing, quicker than everyone else’s, if only slightly. After all they’re the only ones awake. Everyone else is conked right out, curled up around the low-burning embers of their campfire. He’s quiet long enough that Keith is half-convinced that he isn’t actually awake, and only called out for Keith in his sleep.

(Keith couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face if he tried. He doesn’t try, though. The idea of Lance dreaming about him is a nice one.)

There’s a sharp intake of breath from beside him, confirming Lance is not asleep, then a beat of hesitation.

“Do you ever wonder what happens when we die?”

Keith blinks. He opens his mouth to answer, but stops himself. He looks up at the unfamiliar stars, tracing random constellations. There’s a sword, where Orion usually is during Earth summers. And a lick of flame, replacing the Big Dipper.

The brightest star in the sky shines red.

“No,” Keith says softly. “It’s — dangerous. Letting myself think about that. We’re too close, you know? I don’t want my last thought to be panicking about what’s to come. I want it to be — not that. I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Keith waits for Lance to offer an explanation, a reason for his curiosity, or even a subject change. When nothing comes Keith shifts, propping himself up on his elbow and glancing over at the red paladin.

“Why do you ask? Just curious?”

It’s a long time, again, until Lance answers, but this time Keith knows he’s not asleep. He’s tense, lying ramrod straight, head centred on his pillow and arms hooked over his blanket. His brown eyes — almost black in the dark night — stare straight up, but there’s something off about his expression, something fixed and plastic.

“I was surprised, is all. It was — nothing like I expected.”

It takes a moment for Keith to process what Lance said. He almost wishes he hadn’t, when it finally clicks. Never in his life has cold dread seeped through his bones so quickly.

“…What?” He can barely hear his own voice. He can’t at all, actually, the hoarse shock of it swallowed up by the crackling of the coals and cooing of nocturnal insects and wildlife.

Lance, though, must have heard him anyway, or been expecting his shock, because the plastic stiffness melts from his expression as he shoots straight up, scrambling to his feet and pacing back and forth barely paces away from the small flames. Bizarrely, Keith chokes down the urge to warn Lance about the uneven ground that he might trip on.

“I — I was never religious, you know?” One of his hands tugs at his hair, making the dark curls frizzy the more he messes with it. The other waves frantically back and forth, faster with every word. “None of us really were. But Mamá dragged us to church anyway. Every Sunday. Maybe to give us something to be bored about, I don’t know. She never really explained herself. I didn’t ask.” Lance stops abruptly, loud hands freezing, marching back to his bedroll and standing on it for a moment, looking lost. “I don’t — it’s not that I liked it. It was boring as hell. But I — I guess I believed some of it. I dunno.” Before Keith can blink he collapses on top of his blankets, like his strings have been cut. Both hands slide in his hair, now, dark strands clenched between his fingers, elbows resting on his knees. “It was just…dark, though,” he says softly. “Empty.”

Keith feels as if he’s encased in ice. His heart pounds, galloping against his chest, rushing blood through his ears so quickly he can hardly hear anything else. Part of him hopes Lance is playing some kind of cruel joke, but he knows he isn’t.

“When did you —” he doesn’t even know how to phrase it. Hell, he doesn’t know what he’s phrasing, really. “What —” He trails off again, lost. He looks at Lance blankly. Something bitter floods his mouth.

He imagines, for a moment, making this trek home without Lance. It’s not something he’s allowed himself to think about before. Even with Shiro missing, he’d stubbornly refused to even entertain the idea that Shiro was gone for good. The only time he’d let himself think about it was — was Naxzela. And even then, he was the one sure would be going.

They come to him now, unbidden, thoughts. About life — without Lance. Without his loud teasing and big smiles and quiet kindness, without his begrudging but unwavering support, his steady hands and clear voice as he says we’re all behind you, Keith, we’ve got you. I’ve got you.

A tear burns hot down his cheek, startling him back to the stillness of the night, the cool air and quiet noise. Another follows, and another, and then he’s swallowing the giant lump in his throat and holding back a sob.

“You nearly…when?” He can’t bring himself to say the word, to ask directly. To ask would make it real, concrete.

“The Omega Shield,” Lance whispers. He has yet to look up, but has stopped pulling so harshly on his hair. “A blast just —” he shudders. “Right through me an’ Red. You know when — when it’s cold out, and you walk a while without gloves? And your hands get so cold they burn?”

“Yeah,” Keith says softly. His lips taste of salt.

Lance glances at him. His eyes are big and brown and desperate, aching. Glassy, wet and ready to break. “It was like that. All over. Like every molecule was tearing itself apart, like I was unravelling. I was almost grateful when it stopped.”

“And when it stopped?” Keith chokes out.

“Nothing. Endless, nothingness. For a thousand eternities. I lived and grew and died for the rest of time, alone.” Lance heaves, like he’s about the sob or throw up or both.

The first tear finally drips down Lance’s face, tracing from the corner of his eye down his nose, pausing at the tip of it before dropping, finally, into his lap. It springs Keith into action, and before he can even think he surges forward, gathering him in his arms and pulling him into his lap, squeezing tightly and rocking them back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Lance doesn’t so much as twitch, crying great hiccuping sobs into Keith’s chest.

“I’m afraid to sleep,” he chokes out. “I haven’t in days. Every time I do I’m terrified I won’t wake up.”

“I’ve got you,” Keith assures, at a total loss. He lays his hand on the back of Lance’s head, holding him tightly. He can feel Lance’s heartbeat where their chests are pressed together, stuttering and sprinting.

“I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

Lance only sobs again. Keith is aghast, terrified to hold him any tighter but unsure of what else to do. Lance has never been fragile, to him. He’s more stubborn than an ox, a streak of fire lighting up his spine, dark eyes shining with fury every time his forehead’s pressed to Keith’s, screeching ‘till he’s blue in the face that he’s right and Keith’s wrong and he’s gonna show it to him, just you wait and see. He’s seen Lance angry, seen him annoyed, seen him golden with the fire of competition and glowing with the brightness of his laughter. He’s seen Lance worn and insecure. Never, not once in the years Keith has known him and fought with him and led with him, has he seen Lance fragile.

But he is, right now. Now, quivering in Keith’s arms, sobs shaking his frame, Keith feels like he’s holding him together, like if he lets go Lance will shatter to shards on the floor.

So Keith holds him. He holds him until his arms ache, and past that. He holds him until his shirt is soaked and cold in the chilly air, until his knees burn from the tiny bumps of the ground. He holds him until Lance’s sobs peter out, until the orange sun of the system they’re stopping in peeks out from the horizon, stars blinking out of sight.

Hours later, Lance shifts, pulling away slightly. Keith holds tighter, refusing to let him pull away too far.

“Don’t,” Keith says, before Lance can apologize.

That cracks a smile on Lance’s face, to his own surprise. “No?” His voice is wrecked, throat no doubt raw.

“Save your apologies for when you actually do something stupid,” Keith affirms. He hesitates a second, then reaches out, brushing the frazzled curls from Lance’s forehead and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Lance winces slightly as Keith’s thumb brushes his cheekbone.

Keith pulls away. “Sorry. Rough hands.”

But Lance’s hand darts out and grabs Keith’s. “No, it’s — I don’t mind it.” He places it back on his face, shutting his eyes, breath shuddering. His sleeve falls down his arm.

Keith narrows his eyes. Criss-crossing Lance’s arms are dozens of jagged white scars, like lightning bolts across his skin.

“I wake up with more every day,” Lance explains, noticing Keith’s expression. “I was — I died, Keith.”

Keith flinches. Lance swallows, carrying on.

“I felt my heart stop. I don’t know how long, but it was…there was a severance. Something permanent. I felt it.” He runs his hands through his hair again, but much gentler this time. A fidget instead of a panicked tugging. The roots are white, like Shiro’s. “Allura did her best, I think. But I was gone so long. And she’d never done it before.”

“Is everything…working alright?” It’s an awkward way to say it. But Keith doesn’t know how else to say am I going to lose you? Later? Are you here to stay?

Lance shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hear her tell me it’s not.”

“I don’t want to wake up one day and find out — find out, Lance.”

Lance swallows. “I know. I don’t — what do I —”

“We’ll talk to her,” Keith promises. “We’ll figure it out. I’ve got you, Lance.”

Lance’s chin trembles, but he slumps forward, exhausted. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He’s silent for a moment, face tucked in Keith’s neck. The muffled sounds of the team waking up starts to fill the air. “I’m tired, Keith.”

“I’ll watch for you. I’ll make sure you wake up.”

“Okay,” Lance whispers again. Keith feels his eyelashes flutter closed, feels his heartbeat slow, his breathing even. “I trust you.”

As Lance starts to grow heavier in his arms, Keith tightens his hold. He presses a kiss to the top of Lance’s head.

“I’ve got you.”

I won’t let you fade away.

———

part two

#part two will be here tomorrow and involve coran!! #vld #voltron #keith #keith kogane #lance #lance mcclain #klance #omega shield #post s6 #red paladin lance #black paladin keith #langst #brown-eyed lance #hurt/comfort #my writing #fic #longpost

[ankiebitez]

DESCENDANT OF SOLOMON: JUDITH

art by @/artist_mindset25 on insta !!!

big thread about my mc judith, might update or add more whenever i feel like it but i need to stop for now bc its getting too long lmao 😭

more below under the cut !

About

age: 25

birthday: February 24th

sign: pices

height: 5'6

weight: 164

pronouns: he/him

hobbies: knitting, drawing, music and playing instruments, weightlifting

paraphilia: humiliation

length: 3.81 (putting this as bottom growth since he's trans lmao)

mental illness: borderline personality disorder

closest demons: Satan, Amon, Paimon, Bael

favorite weather: Sunny non-humid days during winter

ideal type: someone who loves and cares for people as deeply as he does

favorite food: cinnamon sugar toast that his dad made

favorite bodypart on himself: his arms

Relationships

Demons:

○ satan

- satan and judith are fairly close, having shared romantic feelings for each other. coming to hell and spending time with satan has definitely helped him with being more honest and open with himself, having someone who experiences a lot of emotions in a similar way he does and encouraging him to be more open with them.

○ amon

- amon is one of the demons judith feels most comfortable around, often spending time with him and talking to him. judith feels a lot more comfortable exploring a romantic type of relationship with amon, not having to worry about being too shy or messing things up, partially due to his philia, but also because he seems the most understanding. its almost like he can read judiths emotions without him even having to say them outloud.

○ paimon

- with their shared interest in makeup and fashion, paimon and judith are often seen together in their free time outside of war, much to satan and sitris dismay. judith also loves getting to design cute outfits for paimon too, though most of the time while trying to take measurements it either ends with paimon getting kicked by a overhearing satan, or in other activities. (👀) their relationship is a bit... undisclosed, being more like best friends (with benefits(sorry minhyeok))

○ bael

- judith often makes sure that bael takes care of himself while doing his 'fake king' duties, bringing him food he made, making sure he doesn't push himself too hard, convincing him to take breaks, and even dragging him to bed to rest when he nearly falls asleep at his desk. they also have shared romantic feelings, it being a common sit to see judith sitting in baels lap while he does paper work, or bael resting his head on judiths chest while he plays with his hair, worn out after taking care of his other 'needs'

Friends:

○ minhyeok

- minhyeok is judiths closest friend, having known him since childhood. despite their differing interests and personalities, they always support each other. finding out minhyeok has feelings for him has definitely made judith a bit confused about their relationship though.

○ aniya

- aniya is also judiths close friend, they met in high-school when they were younger. aniya is helping take care of the shop while judith is away. before judith went to hell, the two would often spend time together either at work or hanging out on weekends, aniyas favorite thing to do was go to various goth clubs or shows on weekends together.

○ seth

- seth is another close friend of judith, as well as aniyas brother. he often comes to the shop to annoy the two during work hours, and is pretty sad to see judith hasn't been around lately. hes known judith since high-school as well, and often would show up at judiths house uninvited to hangout or play video games. seth is very teasing towards judith, they even had a bit of a friends with benefits situation going on before judith left. (sorry minhyeok x2)

Family:

○ Keith: judiths father

- keith didn't have much experience in being a dad, having been 19 when judith was born, but that didn't matter to judith. keith made sure that even if he didn't know what he was doing parenting, that his kids always knew that he cared, loved, and were proud of them, always.

○ Evangeline: step mom

- Evangeline is judiths step mom, and judith considers her like his real mom. she actually taught him how to sew by hand when he was younger and got him his first sewing machine, when judith was a kid he would draw out ideas for clothes and she would help him try to make them into physical pieces.

○ Anya: biological mom

- judith didn't have the best relationship with her, even as a kid arguments between them weren't uncommon. anya held very high expectations of him, varying from appearance, to grades, success, often being very controlling. as judith got older, he tried to keep as much distance between them as possible, only interacting when it was necessary.

○ Nicki, Emery: older step-siblings

- nicki and emery are from a past relationship of evangelines. nicki and emery were identical twins at birth, though they both changed their appearance a lot as they got older. they're both 29.

- nicki is a trans woman and actually helped judith realize he was trans as he got older, she is also the sibling that judith is closest to and although they dont see each other as often anymore, they still talk to each other over the phone often.

○ anton: younger sibling

- anton is the only close blood related family judith has left, Evangeline was pregnant with him when keith passed away. judith likes to help take care of him sometimes and spends time with him often.

Other Info

judith is a 25 year old fashion designer, he has his own small local store that he designs and sells clothing, jewelry and accessories for while also selling vintage or interesting pieces he finds. the store is mostly popular to local people within his city and he makes sure to remember most customers.

he lives with minhyeok in a shared apartment and has been close with him since they were kids.

when he was younger he was often bullied and picked on in school for his looks and interests by other kids, despite that though he seems to be very comfortable with himself as an adult.

he feels oddly comfortable in hell despite the war happening with angels he enjoys the directness and openness from most devils. he does not like hades however.

he's a kind and respectful person to people he meets unless he has reason to dislike them. he can be a bit stubborn at times, and can have issues controlling his emotions, but his heart is always in the right place.

even before coming to hell he had experience with past sexual partners, but he doesn't really have much experience with romantic relationships. he's a bit touch starved to soft shows of affection, he's the type thats comfortable in sexual situations but will melt and get embarrassed if someone kisses his cheek or plays with his hair.

he's a gay transman and was a bit surprised when he came to hell and saw how....open minded people were compared to the human world. it definitely felt like a breath of fresh air seeing how no one really cared about things like sexuality or gender even, simply going by the logic "if im attracted to you im attracted to you"

he has borderline personality disorder as well as depression and is a pretty sensitive as well as emotional person, and he has a habit of constantly bottling up and hiding his emotions until he explodes, usually taking his feelings out on himself. coming to hell and being told by satan that if he feels something then he shouldn't hide it has definitely helped with this a lot, not only with expressing his emotions but making him able to think about them and what causes them as well. it feels a lot better to just be angry when he's angry, be jealous when he's jealous, be sad when he's sad and be happy when he's happy.

his mom and dad split up when he was really young, and judith lived with his mother but was a lot closer to his dad. his mother was fairly abusive throughout his childhood, often even getting into arguments when he got older. he had a really good relationship with his dad and step family though, often staying over there instead of his own.

he was heavily affected when his parents were killed at 13, but most especially by his fathers death, even developing various addictions throughout his teenage years and early twenties. luckily he still had and was close with his step mom and siblings, treating them like they're his blood related family.

judith struggled a lot with alcohol and various drug addictions when he was younger, much to the dismay of his family and friends, especially minhyeok. he did eventually get clean though after a near death overdose, luckily minhyeok had been there to save him by giving him a nalaxone treatment and convincing him to go into rehab as well as get therapy. judith felt extremely guilty after this that minhyeok had to save him once again from nearly dying but by his own mistake this time. this was one of his main motivations to sober up.

judith takes after his dad a lot, not just by looks but in personality and interests too. even though judith didnt live with his dad, his father owned a coffee shop and judith would come by there everyday after school and on weekends. he'd stay there and spend time with his family until it got dark outside and he had to go back home to his moms house.

judiths dad was really into punk and goth music, having a bunch of records that judith enjoyed looking through and playing in the shop. when judith got a little bit older, his dad would take him to see some of the local shows in the area that were friendly for kids to come to. his dad actually met his step mom at one of the shows too.

after his father died, judith inherited the shop when he turned 18, eventually turning it into a store for him to sell his designs in. his stepmom is the one who gave it over to him, saying how his dad was planning to give it to him anyway when he retired, and it makes no sense to keep it empty after the coffee shop closed down anyway.

OTHER LINKS:

sketch page

voice lines

#my favorite loser pookie bear #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad? #whb #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #whb satan #whb paimon #whb amon #whb bael #whb judith #whb oc #whb mc #ankiebitez works