#i write things sometimes

[owls-spice-cabinet]

The Inevitable (Part 2)

Welcome back to me! Trying! Go read Part 1 if you haven't (somehow). We are picking up right where we left off!

Minors, Leave. Now. Goodbye.

Words: ~7,200 Content: M/M/M threesome; anal fingering; anal sex; protected and unprotected sex; praise kink; (brief) masturbation; (brief) oral sex; aftercare; sharing a bed

Summary: Ending up here was kind of a given, after those two nights in London. Phillip is still more than happy to let Nik and John have their way with him while he figures out... everything.

Link to Part 1

Translations (in order of appearance): Лучик = sunshine; Лев = lion; Родной = darling (lit. home/native place)

John rested his chin on his shoulder. “Because Nik’s not gonna be able to sleep tonight if he doesn’t fuck me out of his system, so I’m just checking.”

Oh, right. Phillip laughed quietly to himself, catching the subtle change in Nik’s expression. “Nik, you have the patience of a saint.”

Nik smirked, his dark eyes fixed on John’s face. “I didn’t want to interrupt the show. It would have been bad manners.”

“Oh, you’re worried about manners now?” John replied. “Why don’t you read the room, then? You’re the only one still dressed.”

“He has such a way with words, doesn’t he, Лучик?” Nik said. He carefully tucked the gold chain around his neck into the collar of his burgundy sweater. It was a very soft sweater too, as Phillip could attest, having smushed his face against it discretely a couple times that evening.

“He knows what he wants,” Phillip said, glancing sideways at John. “Can’t fault him for that.”

“What I want,” he replied, reaching up to put a hand in Phillip’s hair, “is to see this one’s brain short once he sees how handsome you are, love.”

“You already saw that once with you,” he pointed out as Nik pulled his sweater off over his head and tossed it onto a chest against the nearest wall.

John hummed and kissed his jaw. “And I want to see it again.”

God, these two were going to be his undoing—they pretty much were already, actually.

Nik stood up beside the bed, now only in a black t-shirt and his slacks and socks. “You’re very demanding for someone who’s going to be a whining mess in a few minutes.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it, Kolya,” John said, his voice rumbling in his chest against Phillip’s back.

It was a new nickname to Phillip’s ears, but clearly, it had been chosen for its effect on Nik. He stared at John for half a second, then made a low noise at the back of his throat. In a heartbeat, he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to join his sweater.

Phillip hated that John had predicted his reaction, but he couldn’t be that upset, not when graced with the view in front of him. Like John, there was a thick swath of hair covering most of Nik’s chest and trailing down beyond his waistband. Maybe Phillip had a thing for it, because once again, his hands were itching to touch, and his eyes were fixed on the glint of steel from Nik’s dog tags resting on his chest. Nik’s waist didn’t taper the way John’s did, and frankly there was just… more of him in general. The layer of fat over his muscles was thicker, adding a subtle plush roundness to his tummy and pectorals. Phillip could feel saliva pooling in his mouth just looking at him.

John’s hand still in his hair tightened its grip, tugging at his scalp slightly and breaking him out of his stupor. “See?” he said, the smug bastard. “It’s fun to watch your brain melt out your ears.”

Nik tsked at him, moving in close to them. “Be nice, John,” he said, leaning down and lifting John’s chin with a firm hold on it to slot their mouths together. “He’s not a toy,” he added quietly, pulling back just enough to get the words out before leaning back in.

John’s hand left Phillip’s hair to curl back around his chest, holding him in place. His other hand found Nik’s wrist under his chin and wrapped around it loosely, the thumb rubbing the soft skin on the inside of his wrist. Nik’s second hand reached and found Phillip’s shoulder first, then followed it up to his neck to his jaw. Phillip’s hands tightened around the glass of water he was still holding, a little taken aback by how comfortable he felt. Here he was, sitting in one man’s arms, watching said man eagerly kiss his partner, all while that partner had a hand cradling Phillip’s face like he was the one being kissed instead.

But still, it felt… good. John’s chest was warm against his back, and Nik was so close, he could feel the warmth radiating off of his shoulders as well. It was welcoming, in some way, like they had accepted he had a place here, and wasn’t that an intimidating concept. He wanted to have a place here, which might have been even more terrifying, since he’d never had a relationship where he had truly wanted to stay.

Fortunately, he only had a few seconds to sit with his trailing thoughts before Nik pulled away from John’s mouth and patted his cheek. “Go lie down, Лев,” he said softly.

John pressed a final kiss to the shell of Phillip’s ear before he extracted himself from where he sat behind him to go lie down closer to the center of the bed. Nik watched him, a hungry sort of glint in his eyes, but his hand hadn’t moved from Phillip’s neck yet. Eventually, he dipped his head slightly, lowering his voice when he spoke.

“Phillip, would you be a dear and undo my trousers for me?”

Phillip’s mouth started watering all over again, and he happily sat up to set his glass on the bedside table nearby. The power this man held over him—over both him and John, honestly—was incredible. “I would absolutely love to,” he purred, reaching out and finally sinking his fingertips into the flesh around Nik’s waist and hips.

John groaned, equal parts frustrated and aroused. “Nik, for fuck’s sake. That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair,” Nik told him, running his hand up the back of Phillip’s neck and into his hair. Phillip resisted the urge to lean into his chest in reaction as he worked to undo the clasps at the top of Nik’s pants. “You’ve been doing it for years. Let him have his turn.”

John grumbled nonverbally. Phillip grinned, happy that he could push John’s buttons even now. He took his time pulling the zipper down, watching the muscles in Nik’s abdomen tense when it brushed against the prominent tent that Phillip had been not-so-subtly eyeing earlier. Why was he resisting his urges again? He slid the waistband of the slacks down until they fell in a pool around Nik’s ankles, then leaned in, pressing his face against Nik’s warm skin just under his pecs and slightly to one side. He felt as well as heard the quiet exhale in response, and felt the fingers in his hair tighten all at once. His right arm snaked around Nik’s waist, the hand splaying out against his lower back. The other hand dropped down to gently palm over the length of Nik’s cock through his boxers.

That got a quiet groan from both Nik and John. Nik’s hand at the back of Phillip’s head involuntarily pressed his face harder against his torso, and he hummed appreciatively, happy to stay there surrounded by the man’s warmth and scent as long as possible. He also could finally appreciate why Nik and John had both, separately, discouraged him from having Nik fuck him. He remembered intimately the stretch and fullness from John’s dick buried in him, and he was now forced to concede that yes, Nik would have broken him. Proportionally, he wasn’t that big, but he had girth that John simply didn’t. His fingers found the tip of his shaft and found a damp spot in the fabric there as well. Patience of a saint indeed.

 Nik pulled a little harder on his hair, turning his face up to look at him. Phillip made no move to move either of his hands. “Лучик,” he breathed. “I have to ask you to let go so I can take care of John.”

That was only fair. Phillip dipped his chin to press his lips against Nik’s ribs, and withdrew his hands. Nik ruffled his hair and used his shoulder to lean on as he rid himself of his pants and socks. He planted a quick kiss on his head before he walked to the foot of the bed and climbed on over John’s feet. John pushed himself up on his elbows to meet his mouth as he descended upon him, only to be laid right back down. Phillip drank in the sight, still a little incredulous he was even here, and a little surprised at himself for enjoying it as much as he was. But it seemed to balance out, in a weird way, that after his abysmal efforts to figure out normal romance for twenty years, he’d end up in an unconventional… whatever this was.

By some supernatural strength, his eyes left the spectacle of obscenely attractive musculature and landed on the bottle of lube where John had abandoned it on the sheets. Since he’d just discovered what Nik somehow kept tucked into his pants all day, they’d definitely be needing it eventually. He picked it up and slid it across the sheets towards them where it bumped up against Nik’s elbow.

Nik broke away from John’s mouth, looking to see what had bumped him. Phillip’s attention had focused on the sheen of spit on John’s lower lip as the light caught it.

“Thank you, beautiful,” Nik said, taking it in his hand. He sat back on his heels and grinned when he said something to John afterwards in Russian. John knocked his knee against him in reply. It only made Nik’s grin stretch wider as he squeezed lube onto his fingers and set the bottle down within reach. “I didn’t hear a no.”

“Why do you always make me think right before you fuck me?”

Nik leaned over him slightly, his smile never wavering. “Because I like seeing the moment it all stops.” He didn’t give John an opportunity to respond before he reached down and pressed his first finger into him.

Phillip scooched back to sit against the headboard, hugging his knees loosely as he watched. There was something slightly vindictive about witnessing Nik systematically take apart the man who had only recently been responsible for doing the same to him. It was also perfectly clear—even without knowing what he already knew about them—the absolute adoration they held for each other. It was so obvious this was a familiar and comforting kind of ritual, despite the way Nik’s eyes were taking in every single detail, every twitch, like he’d never seen it before.

He also realized, as his eyes followed Nik’s free hand trailing up John’s side, he didn’t seem to care particularly where the attention was directed. It didn’t seem to matter that the gleam of satisfaction in Nik’s eyes came from making John melt into his hands and not Phillip. Likewise, hearing the curses and groans spilling from John’s lips might as well have been the most perfect music to grace his ears, regardless of who was causing them. They were enjoying themselves; they were enjoying each other; and, as Nik had done earlier, Phillip was enjoying the show.

There was a small aspect of satisfying some curiosity, as well. Even as he attempted to burn their expressions into his memory, his eyes kept being drawn back between John’s legs. From this angle, he couldn’t see Nik’s hand, but he got an excellent view to find out exactly how long John’s refractory period was. Under Nik’s ministrations, it wasn’t terribly long at all. His dick was half-hard already and filling out steadily.

Nik might have noticed Phillip’s attention, because his hand moved from where it had been splayed out below John’s sternum, following the trail of coarse hair down. John swore quietly, like he knew what was coming. His palm finally wrapped loosely around the base of John’s dick and stroked up almost gently.

John’s head pressed back into the pillows as his hips bucked up over their own accord, and his eyes rolled back shut. “Bloody Christ, Nik,” he managed.

Nik grinned, looking up at Phillip. “He’s still sensitive,” he said, like it was information just between the two of them.

John glared, once again knocking one of his knees against Nik’s side. “Fuck’s sake—can you get around to putting your cock in me sometime this week?” Some of the commanding tone was lost when paired with the pink flush from his ears down to his shoulders and the barely contained whines he made when Nik’s fingers found the right spot. It was extremely satisfying to see.

“I’m only up to three,” Nik replied. Somehow, his voice remained unchanged, unstrained, despite the obvious desire written all over his face.

Phillip’s brain then went back and replayed what he’d said. Only three? Dear God, how much bigger was Nik down there?

John was unfazed and still impatient. “You think I can’t feel how many—”

Nik’s hand once again slid up the length of John’s shaft, now fully erect again. Once again, it drew a groan from John, cutting into whatever he’d been saying in the first place.

Phillip grinned. “That’s playing dirty pool, Nik, c’mon.”

“That’s the most fun kind of pool.”

“Fuck off, the both of you!”

Again, John’s frustration was undermined almost entirely by Nik’s thumb running up the underside of his shaft. Phillip uncurled from where he sat and crawled over to him, crouching on his knees next to John’s shoulder. Before John could ask why he had moved, he reached over with one hand to the far side of his jaw and leaned over to kiss him, just because he wanted to and he could.

One of John’s hands appeared to curl around the side of Phillip’s neck, holding him close. He broke away just long enough to mutter, “Fine, you can stay,” before pulling him back in.

Phillip tried not to let the ridiculous fluttery feeling that came after that remark overwhelm him. Fortunately, his thought process was quickly interrupted when a moan erupted from the back of John’s throat, sending a wave of vibrations between their lips, into Phillip’s mouth, practically to the back of his skull. They pulled apart, Phillip shifting slightly to rest his forehead on John’s. “And that was…?” he asked, keeping his eyes closed while his head stopped spinning.

John hummed in utter contentment. “Fourth finger.”

Ah. He pressed a kiss to John’s forehead before sitting up and resuming his previous position, but now sitting within reach. The shift made him suddenly aware of exactly how much the scene in front of him was affecting him. His own dick had started to harden again, despite having gotten his brains fucked out not too long ago. That was a new concept. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased by the prospect of more than one round going forward.

How the hell had he not figured this out earlier again?

Nik kept John squirming on the bed for a minute or so longer, which just seemed like torture at this point, even if Phillip was enjoying the show. He pulled his hand away at last, rising up off his heels.

“Oh, thank fuck,” John breathed.

“I think letting you have Phillip first made you more demanding,” Nik said. He stepped off the bed temporarily to rid himself of his boxers—which he did largely one-handed and with practiced ease, and Phillip’s mind was going a little fuzzy watching it. “Maybe he should be a reward so you behave for me next time.”

A small part of him reminded Phillip he probably should have said something about being referred to in such a depersonalized way, but the rest of him was far more focused on Nik’s hand. His mouth was watering as he followed that hand up and down the length of Nik’s… just stunningly beautiful and objectively big dick.

Fuck, he was so gay.

“Kolya…” John sighed, sounding like he was actively restraining himself from whining. He followed with something in Russian in the same tone.

The reply was also in Russian, said very sweetly, but not quite crossing the border into apologetic. Phillip had a feeling the last thing Nik would be feeling here would be apologetic for what he’d done. He got back on the bed and shook his head when John opened his legs a little wider for him. Reaching out, he patted the outside of John’s left thigh and said one word in Russian.

“You’re gonna kill me,” John muttered, pushing himself up and going to roll over onto his front.

Phillip started to move aside to make room.

“You don’t have to move, Лучик,” Nik told him.

They both stopped, glancing first at each other, then back at Nik, who seemed completely unbothered where he knelt towards the foot of the bed. Phillip looked down again, doing the very simple calculations that once again came up with one of two solutions: either John had to move over, or his face was ending up directly in Phillip’s groin.

John was the one who asked. “Do you want me in his lap?”

“If he doesn’t mind.”

He looked back up at Phillip, waiting for a response.

Phillip nodded once. “Fine by me,” he said, proud that he could keep his voice steady considering the anticipation running through him was making his stomach flip and his heart pound in his ears.

He straightened his legs so John could climb over to sit between them. He was a little surprised when John surged forward to connect their lips, but he wasn’t going to complain about it, not when John’s hand and mouth were hot and just rough enough to have goosebumps breaking out across his skin. After a few seconds, he heard a click when Nik snapped the bottle of lube closed, and then he felt the mattress shift.

John recognized it as well and pulled back. Over his shoulder, Phillip saw Nik kneeling behind him, one hand slowly, almost lazily spreading lube on his cock. The other was palming one of John’s asscheeks, kneading into the muscle, pulling it apart from the other slightly. It was fucking possessive, and it would have been intimidating if it weren’t so fucking hot. John grunted softly, his forehead dropping onto Phillip’s shoulder. Without really thinking about it, Phillip curled a hand around the back of his neck, but his eyes were still tracking Nik’s every movement.

A smile spread over Nik’s face, remaining there as he leaned over John’s back, only disappearing when he pressed his lips against his skin. “How did I get this lucky, hm?” he said, his smile returning in full force. His dark eyes flicked up to meet Phillip’s gaze. “Two such gorgeous men in front of me, and I get you both to myself.”

John whined, very quietly, but it was there. He rocked back against him slightly. “Nik,” he groaned. “Come on, love, fucking Christ.”

Nik hummed, kissing up one side of John’s back like he had nothing better he could be doing. “But you didn’t follow my directions,” he said in a low voice.

John grumbled, but nothing that sounded like words. Phillip was confused, but stayed quiet. He wasn’t entirely sure his brain could put together a coherent sentence anyway. Nik’s right hand left John’s ass and ran up his side, between his shoulder blades, finally resting over Phillip’s fingers still splayed across the back of his neck.

He pushed down, steady but firm. “I want you in his lap, Родной.”

Phillip’s breath lodged in his chest as a rush of arousal flooded his brain instead of oxygen. His face felt feverishly hot, so he knew he was blushing deeply, but couldn’t be truly bothered to care. Nik kept his hand on John’s neck as he lowered his shoulders down, placing his arms down on either side of Phillip’s hips and wrapping them around him. When his face was finally buried in the bend of Phillip’s hip, his breath tickling the hair around the base of his dick, Phillip let out a slow, only slightly shaky breath.

“There we are,” Nik said, removing his hand from his neck. Phillip’s eyes followed it as it trailed up the planes of John’s back, right back to where it had started, gripping a handful of John’s ass. The new view was downright sinful. “You are good for me, I will be good to you,” he added on.

Phillip watched a shudder run through John’s body before his eyes. “Please, Kolya.”

Nik hushed him softly, lining himself up against John’s ass before carefully pressing in. Again, Phillip found his attention entirely hostage by the sight. He could only really see the very root of Nik’s shaft from this angle, but he watched, rapt, as it drew closer and closer. It felt like John had gone limp in his lap as his whole body relaxed to welcome him.

For the first time that evening, Nik’s face was not a picture of self-control. Phillip caught a distinct line between his brows and faint strain around his mouth as he eased in deeper. John made a low noise in his throat, his arms tightening around Phillip slightly as he tried to push back into the feeling.

Nik put a hand between his shoulders. “Wait,” he told him, his breathing finally starting to go a bit unsteady, and his cheeks flushed a shade redder than before.

It was slow, and Phillip felt a little bad for John because of it, squirming in his lap under Nik’s hand. Only a little bad, though, because he remembered how easily John had taken him apart only a few minutes prior, and it was still fun to watch the tables turn. Before Nik was fully sheathed, he started thrusting shallowly, making John melt all over again as he worked his way deeper.

“Fuck yes,” John moaned, slightly muffled against Phillip’s groin.

Phillip felt more than saw Nik bottom out a moment later, when his hips bumped up against John’s ass and jostled his shoulders into Phillip’s middle. It pushed a quiet breath out of him, which he’d hoped would be lost under John’s much louder noise of pleasure.

Judging by the glint in Nik’s eyes, that might not have been the case. He said nothing, only bent over John’s back again, pressing a kiss where he could reach. “You always take me so well, John,” he murmured against his skin. “Feel like pure paradise on my cock.” He added something in Russian that made John groan as his body spasmed, so it must have been something good.

Nik hummed, resting his forehead against John’s back while he regained his composure. When he looked up again, he caught Phillip’s eye and grinned. He grabbed a hand towel from nearby—a second one that he must have brought with the first when Phillip had been too fucked-out to notice—to wipe his hand clean. He left the towel somewhere under John out of sight before grabbing both his hips.

Whether or not Nik had planned this position or merely stumbled upon it on a whim, Phillip had no idea. Either way, he kind of wanted to thank him for it. Every motion, every thrust, no matter how shallow or deep, was conducted directly through John’s body and into Phillip’s. He could feel every jostle from John’s shoulders, every squeeze of his arms, every breath that ghosted over his balls. The onslaught of sensations, combined with the absolutely fucking incredible view of Nik fucking into him, of his abs tensing, his pecs jiggling just slightly on each thrust, and his dog tags only serving to highlight the motion, made his head spin.

Phillip put an arm across John’s shoulders, searching for a fraction of stability as his mind struggled to comprehend everything going on around him. As Nik’s pace slowly sped up, his eyes fluttered, and he tore his gaze away from the absolute vision in front of him, letting his head rest against the headboard for a moment to breathe. Fuck, he was so hard again.

“You can touch yourself, sweetheart.”

Phillip’s eyes flew open and his head whipped down to stare at the back of John’s head.

Before he could reply to the remark, Nik beat him to it. “Is he that hard again already, love? Just from watching me fuck you?” he grinned, giving a particularly harsh thrust into John. It drew a loud moan from him, and a hissed curse.

“’Course he is,” came the answer once he had regained coherency.

Phillip let his head fall back against the headboard again with a quiet groan. It didn’t seem fair that John still had enough mental fortitude to tease him like that while getting fucked into next week. But unfortunately, he couldn’t really argue with him on that point, because it was absolutely true. Keeping his left arm across John’s shoulders, he wrapped his other hand around the base of his dick and started stroking himself, biting back a moan when he did. It took a little repositioning, since John’s shoulders were hovering just over his dick, but it would work. He knew Nik was watching him, too, even if he couldn’t see everything. The slick noise accompanying each thrust never faltered, but he could practically feel his gaze on him.

“Good boy,” Nik crooned at him. His sweet tone was in direct contrast to him placing a hand on John’s back, pressing the arch deeper for him. “Make yourself feel good for us, yes?”

Phillip swallowed a whine as he slowly sped up his hand to match the movement of Nik’s hips, swiping drops of precum off the tip to make the slide easier.

John’s body jolted on the next thrust, then he melted into Phillip’s lap with a low moan. “Fuck, right there, love.”

It was something Nik had been waiting for, if the expression on his face was anything to go by. There was a determination hidden behind a veneer of accomplishment, like a hunting dog who had just seen the rabbit stumble, and knew already how this would end. Later, Phillip probably needed to do some thinking about why that got his dick twitching in his hand, but for now, he couldn’t have cared less. It was fucking hot, and he wasn’t even the one getting railed this time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, mostly to himself, when he felt Nik’s movements pick up strength. He could guess every one of them was nailing John’s prostate, judging from the way the man’s hands scrambled for purchase on Phillip’s back. He could feel John’s brow furrowing against his hip, and every noise, every breath, every word out of his mouth, he could feel ghosting over his skin. Even his knuckles would occasionally graze John’s beard as he continued fucking his hand in time.

He wasn’t going to last much longer, and from listening to the sounds falling from John’s lips, he wasn’t alone in that regard. Somehow—somehow—Nik still come off as nearly unaffected, and the only signs indicating anything otherwise were the slight crease between his brows, and the quiet grunts he made every few thrusts. It was impressive, considering how long he’d waited to get to this point.

John made a desperate noise, his fingers digging into the muscles in Phillip’s flanks. “Nikolai…” he ground out.

“I know, my dear,” Nik answered, only now starting to get breathless. “I know, I can feel you. Fuck, you get so tight,” he breathed, screwing his eyes shut for a second or two. His fingertips sunk into his hips and ass as he pulled him back into each of his thrusts. “Go on, my love.” Four more words followed in Russian—presumably endearments based on tone and repetition.

It was a struggle to listen to the exchange to make any more inferences, since Phillip’s mind was starting to fade into blissful static. A consuming heat was racing over his skin and wrapping itself around his middle as he pulled himself towards a second climax. He took it as slow as he could bear, not sure he wanted to come all over John’s neck and shoulders—or, rather, not sure if John would appreciate that.

John lasted a moment longer before he grunted, and Phillip was suddenly transfixed watching the muscles up and down his back contract as he came. Nik hissed a curse, his rhythm stumbling slightly for the first time. He recovered quickly, groaning quietly in satisfaction as he watched his partner fall apart under him.

“So beautiful,” he breathed, his attention entirely on John now. “So handsome, so strong—fuck—” Nik’s eyes slipped closed for a second when he cut himself off. John was starting to squirm and whine from the onslaught of sensation, and Phillip was seriously struggling to hold himself back from coming just listening to him. “Ah, ah, I know, I know,” Nik soothed, before falling back into Russian Phillip couldn’t recognize.

Whatever he said, it made John groan in frustration, and Phillip had to tilt his head up to stare at the ceiling just to keep himself together. He felt John’s shoulders shift, felt the mattress dip slightly on one side, but his mind was too hazy with pleasure to really compute those things. It wasn’t until he felt John’s hand take hold of his wrist, halting his hand’s arduously slow movements along the length of his dick, that he looked back down.

He almost wished he hadn’t. Almost. It was up for debate. His eyes found John’s hand on his wrist just in time to watch his lips wrap around the head of his dick and swallow it half-way down in one smooth motion.

Phillip forgot how to breathe. Despite this, he still managed a strained “John—” before John pulled back, sucking on him just perfectly, and hurling him over the edge for the second time that night. His eyes rolled back and his head hit the headboard behind him as a low moan fell from his lips. Damn John and his stupidly talented mouth.

It was less intense the second time around, even if he still got the distinct impression that his soul had just been sucked out of his body through his dick. His brain didn’t go entirely offline, which meant he was plenty aware enough to recognize Russian cursing filling the air and that Nik had stopped moving. John let out a pleased hum, and Phillip’s legs jolted when the vibrations went right down already sensitive member. His hand dug into John’s shoulder.

“John—Jesus Christ, you’re gonna kill me if you keep doing that,” he hissed. Then he squeezed his eyes closed when he felt John’s tongue carefully lapping over the head as he drew back. “What the hell was that?”

Thankfully, John’s mouth was off his dick when he chuckled quietly and pushed himself up from between his legs.

“It was fucking cheating,” Nik said fiercely, looking slightly disheveled in a way Phillip couldn’t quite place. Something in his eyes, maybe.

Slowly, Phillip’s brain pieced together the last couple moments, and he smiled, half in disbelief. “Did John get you to come just by sucking my dick?”

“Yep,” John said with an immensely pleased smile.

“Of course he did!” Nik said at almost the same time, and Phillip wished he could tell if his cheeks were flushed from exertion or something else. He went on, his tone betraying more of just how out of sorts he was. “I am surprised at—how could you—” He trailed off momentarily as he concentrated on pulling out, but as soon as his cock had slipped free, he picked right back up. “I feel used.”

John scoffed as he used one hand to fold over the towel underneath him. Phillip supposed it was somewhat impressive that Nik had managed to so accurately predict exactly how much of a mess John would make. “Oh, you feel—love, remind me what’s dripping out of my arse before we decide who’s been used, yeah?”

Nik grumbled in mostly Russian for a second or two, bending down to pick up the towel. “You know what I mean, you impossible bastard.”

John looked up at Phillip while Nik wiped him down. He’s embarrassed, he mouthed, then winked.

Phillip shook his head at their dramatics and sat forward, putting his clean hand on John’s chin so he could press a kiss to his cheek. When he tried to turn his head to meet his mouth, Phillip tightened his grip on his chin. “Absolutely not, I saw where that mouth has been.”

“Suit yourself,” he replied, sitting back when Nik had finished and moved away. “Nik brought your bag in here, by the way. It’s by the door, if you like.”

He would like, actually. It was only a matter of time before he started getting cold again, and he would prefer to have his pajamas on before that point. He scooched to the edge of the bed and slid off onto the carpet. Nik had grabbed the other towel off the bed and disposed of it as well as the other in a laundry hamper between the two dressers opposite the bed. Walking to his duffle bag by the door, Phillip watched out of the corner of his eye, seeing John shift to sit on the edge of the bed to stretch his legs, seeing Nik step up to him. He bent down to slot their mouths together, then abruptly pulled back, one hand still gripping John’s chin.

John grinned with his mouth still open slightly. Phillip shook his head and set about digging his pajamas and toiletries out of his bag to ignore the blush creeping up his ears. He knew exactly what John’s mouth tasted of: him. Glancing over when he stood up, his ears and face only grew hotter when he could see just how much Nik was enjoying it. And possibly because he was getting an eyeful of Nik’s ass.

He used the bathroom and got dressed quickly, recognizing he didn’t have the energy to even think about taking a shower tonight. He decidedly avoided confronting his hair, because he knew it was a mess, but it was a mess for tomorrow. So, he just brushed his teeth and left it at that. When he came back out to put his toiletries away and collect his scattered clothing, he found John wrapped up in Nik’s arms where they sat at the head of the bed, both thankfully with more clothing on than when he’d left them, even if it was only boxers in this case. John looked like he’d lost a battle against falling asleep, but he roused quickly when Nik kissed his head and pushed him upright gently.

It was painfully domestic, seeing them both so completely relaxed and out of uniform. A small part of Phillip still was bewildered that he’d been allowed to see them like this at all, never mind the sex. Most of the rest of him had gone soft and mushy upon seeing them like that, which was definitely something he should think about later. But he was also too tired to be anything other than mildly baffled at this point. He picked his shirt up off the floor near one of the dressers. When he stood up, he made a quiet noise of surprise when John had appeared without his tired brain noticing and kissed his forehead as he passed on his way to the bathroom. His leaned into it with a smile before continuing to gather his clothes. He just tossed them on top of his bag, too tired to do anything else.

Turning back to the bed, Nik smiled and beckoned with open arms until Phillip crawled up into his arms where John had been a moment ago. A dark blue duvet had appeared on the bed over the sheets while he’d been gone, but he didn’t need to crawl under it yet. Both Nik and John were always so warm, and Phillip tried not to think about how much he enjoyed that as he curled up against Nik’s chest. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the discussion that thought process would prompt.

“Are you okay?” Nik asked softly.

“Mmhm.” He heard the shower start running in the bathroom.

“Are you okay sleeping here with us, or do you want to be by yourself?”

It was a fair question, even if he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d sort of assumed he would sleep here. But, now that he thought about it, that was only because it was what he had done in every other relationship he’d had. It had just seemed like the only option. “Hm,” he said, opening his eyes (he hadn’t meant to close them). “I guess I’ll try it with you. Haven’t… shared with anyone in seventeen-odd years, so I might be a terrible bedmate, but sure.”

Nik kissed the back of his head where he could reach. “If you don’t like it, just wake one of us up. We have a very comfortable fold-out couch in the sitting room and lots of blankets.”

Again, he felt a rush of some warm and fuzzy emotion that, again, he wasn’t going to figure out now. He liked being given options. He liked that Nik knew he would want lots of blankets, even if it might have been obvious, since his PJs of choice were long pants and a long-sleeved shirt. “Any quirks I should know about?” he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the feelings he didn’t know how to talk about yet. “Should I know if one of you might try pushing me out of bed in the middle of the night?”

Nik laughed quietly, and Phillip reveled in the vibrations it sent through him. “Nothing like that, Лучик,” he smiled. “The opposite, probably. John is like a bear trap: he will not let you leave. We had to get a bigger bed because I can’t enjoy being held like that in my sleep.”

Phillip’s brow furrowed at the phrasing. “Can’t?”

“I wake up screaming.”

“Oh.” Speaking of which— “Thank you for reminding me to take my meds,” he said, extracting himself reluctantly from Nik’s arms.

Nik chuckled and took it in stride. Such was the way of a career in any military: if you didn’t end up medicated, you probably should be. “Happy to help.”

By the time he’d finished that, John was out of the bathroom with damp hair and smelling like shampoo and mouthwash, though dressed identically to when he’d gone in. Nik got up to take his turn through the bathroom, kissing John’s shoulder as he went by.

“You could have used it while I was in the shower,” John pointed out.

Nik turned to him, half-way into the bathroom already. “But then Phillip would have been all alone,” he said, gesturing to him. “I am not heartless.”

John rolled his eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom. “Dramatics.” Looking back at Phillip, he asked, “Am I allowed to kiss you again, beautiful?”

Phillip lifted his chin and took a step towards him. “Now you are, sure.”

John closed the distance between them and set his knuckles under his chin. His mouth tasted like spearmint and felt perfectly warm against his own. He’d gotten used to John’s beard and mustache remarkably quickly, and now he barely noticed it unless he had to. It was just another thing that made John… John; it was like the height difference with Nik, in that regard.

John pulled back, but held him still so he could press his lips to his brow before stepping away. “You’re staying with us here?” he asked, climbing into the center of the bed and starting to rearrange the pillows from where they’d been smushed earlier.

“I’ll give it a shot,” Phillip answered honestly. “Nik already told me he’s not the cuddly type.”

“He wishes he was,” John said. He flipped the comforter back and stuck his legs under it, then patted the sheets next to him for Phillip to join him. “I’ll do my best not to suffocate you.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask,” he replied, sliding in beside him and finally accepting that he was absolutely fucking exhausted. “I don’t think I’ll mind sleeping with a human space heater, though,” he added.

John smirked as he laid down. “Don’t get cross with me at three hundred hours if I sweat you out of bed.”

He could count the number of times that had ever happened on one hand. He lay down himself, tugging the covers up to his neck and partially curling up on his side facing John. He stuck a foot out and pressed his toes into the side of John’s leg.

He jerked his leg away. “Bleedin’ ‘ell!” he hissed, his blue eyes going wide with shock.

“I don’t think you’re gonna overheat me, John.”

“You’re a fucking ice cube, Phillip!”

Nik emerged from the bathroom then, and he smiled softly upon seeing them both already in bed. “You should warm him up, then, dear,” he said, going to a light switch at the base of the lamp currently casting the room in a warm glow.

“I’d get frostbite,” John protested.

Nik sighed with great emotion, looking up to the ceiling. “So dramatic.”

Phillip laughed so suddenly, he almost surprised himself, and clamped his mouth shut around the next fit of mirth. John must have picked up what had gone through his head, because he reached over and ruffled his hair none too gently until he batted his hand away.

“I’m turning off the light,” Nik said in a voice that gently implied they should cut it out. The room plunged into soft indigo darkness, with only a dim grey light seeping through around the corners of the curtains over the large window. “Good night, Лучик.”

Phillip couldn’t help but smile. “’Night, Nikolai.”

He watched Nik’s silhouette as he walked to the far side of the bed, then felt the mattress shift slightly as he climbed in and adjusted the covers and pillows to his liking. He heard a quiet phrase in Russian, spoken with great care and even reverence, then saw the shadows of the two beside him shift slightly and heard a soft kiss in the dead silence.

The response from John was almost too quiet to make out the words. “Love you too, Nik.”

With that phrase resting in the air, Phillip let his eyes close and took a slow breath, feeling the beginnings of sleep start to tug at his mind. For the first time in a long time, he actually felt… satisfied? The feeling went beyond accomplishment, and it was deeper than just contentment. It was weighted, grounding, even. There was something in it reminiscent of that first hug from Nik, that first moment where he allowed himself to realize that what he’d been feeling went beyond the parameters for friendship. Maybe…

His eyes flicked open again, resting on the silhouettes of the men next to him, watching and listening to the even rise and fall of their breathing. That was it.

He felt like he sort of… belonged here.

#i write things sometimes #cod mwiii #cod smut #cod fanfic #modern warfare fanfiction #modern warfare smut #nikpricegraves #cod nikolai #john price #captain john price #phillip graves

[jgvfhl]

Hello my friends, who wants some nikprice soulmate au???? @cod-dump @totally-not-fandom I know you do! @latinowolverine would you like some as well, since you were the eagle-eyed reader who caught the mention of Price's mark in the first story?

Words: ~7700

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, romance

Summary: "It took over twenty-five years for John to realize what his soulmark even meant. No one was really to blame for it. Not many people in northwest England in the mid-90s would have had a reason to recognize the pointed, swooping lettering as a name of any kind, since it wasn’t in Latin characters."

This is a companion/prequel piece to the first work in this series, Written on Your Heart, so that'a linked on Ao3 👍 have fun!

#the title is a pun bc price can't read letters #anyway #i write things sometimes #cod fanfic #cod mw fanfiction #nikprice #cod nikolai #john price #prikolai #nik x price #call of duty fanfic #modern warfare fanfiction

[anaalnathrakhs]

1, 55, or 57 with Mick and a ship of your choosing for the put that guy in a situation thing <3

ty for requesting bestie i tried going for the whole triad (though more 1. and 57.) AND with the nice usual serving of polycrue bc i'm an indecisive bitch here u go hope it's cool bc none of it was written at socially acceptable waking hours

This is a Song for the Broken Hearted

1k words Rated T for The usual motley crue bullshit Polycrue Prompts: 1. Touch-Starved/Cuddle Curse, 55. Mutual Pining/Oblivious, 57. Accidental Hand-Holding

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3, MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM FOLKS

The very first time Mötley Crüe played what they could proudly call a show, not merely a gig, Vince had strutted towards the audience down in the pit, grabbing Nikki’s hand on the way, and o grace, Mick’s too. Tommy had bounced away from his drumkit and come to join them in the front, standing to Mick’s side hand in hand.

His heart had thumped in his chest, desperately. Vince’s crowd-charming nonsense spilled out and Mick heard none of it, none of the rumble of the public just below, droning noises washing up on the cliffside of his brains. 

Everything felt gross. 

Their palms were thoroughly damp, melding together like mud after the rain. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead, smeared down his back and matted his hair. 

His clothes hung heavy, rough and irritating and too real against his skin.

But nothing mattered at that moment. The electricity that ran through his veins when from either side his boys squeezed his hands as they bowed down to the public, however painful it might be for him, that was all the comfort he ever needed. And if it were to never happen again, if Mötley Crüe was destined to go out in a blaze of glory only months before they’d started doing real concerts, then Mick could still ride on that high for the rest of his life. 

It was exhilarating. Euphoric. Completely foreign. He could thread his fingers through theirs, and know they’d drag him with them, to wherever was the next stop in their headless chicken adventure through this new emerging scene.

Mick thought he knew his way around being in a band. It wasn’t his first stage, it wasn’t his first rodeo. But none of his bandmates before had been quite like this. Quite as stupid, if there was a nice way to put it. But neither were they quite as warm and oh so desperately alive as Nikki, Vince, and Tommy never stopped being for a single second. This band was going places.

It was a great tearing, when the hands went away, dropped his own to their cold solitude and left him until the next encore. 

From then on, it became his lifeline. Fragmented and explosive as their ensemble could be, slave to Nikki’s moods, and Vince’s whims, and Tommy’s recklessness, and despite his teeth often grinding in anger, despair, and so much more, it was the cement of it all. None of this could have existed if it were not for the monstrous, evergoing current that flowed through the four of them, merciless. He sought it, this familiar chaos that had come to feel like coming home. He couldn’t have done anything else, could he? 

He could always count on the warmth, the comfortable warmth of the hands that took his. The only constant. A definitive sign that none of them would let go.

That’s the vision that visited his dreams, often when he passed out slowly in the little hours of the morning, alone again.

He remembered the fluid touch of Tommy’s thumb, rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Like he somehow knew, or had guessed, or maybe had Mick told him in a moment of weakness he didn’t remember, how precious this minuscule fragment of time was to him. And with such delicacy too; disgusting, terrifying delicacy, like Mick’s hands were going to break, like he didn’t want to hurt his guitarist. His calluses, inevitable from the constant friction of the drumsticks, anchored the feeling deep in Mick’s mind.

He searched for Vince’s hand in the dark sometimes, hoping for the squeeze he earned after hours of playing, sweating, and tearing the music from the strings. The intimate millisecond where someone, anyone, told him and him alone that he’d done good. He’d always squeeze back. Vince seemed to notice, and smiled bright and solar at Mick before turning to the crowd and announcing the greatest motherfucker on guitar, the one and only Mick Mars. But the hand meant so much more.

Nikki never did touch as much, moreso he reluctantly let Vince drag his hand as well during salute, but every once in a while he brushed Mick’s hand walking past, before the show, at the afterparty, when he left rehearsal. He never looked, never looked away either. For the longest time, it seemed like happy little accidents, until one day he blinked at Mick, and all the pieces of the puzzle fell together, practically screaming at him that he was seen. It was Nikki’s way to prove him he was right there with them. Mick felt nauseous, yet he kept leaning towards his bandmates.

And for a while, it seemed like all he was ever going to get. 

Because that was the sad truth. Mick wanted. Wanted so much, so desperately it almost made him sick, so deeply he’d feel his heart break over and over again every day the bustling afterparty died down behind his back as he staggered back home.

He never wanted to face it, never wanted to look down at their interlocked hands, in fear that it would start within him something he could not quench. His wife’s hand had felt like a bridge above the inevitable gap. These hands felt like the rightful place for his. Like everything was finally on the right track, and he never ever wanted them to leave. He crossed his arms at night, held onto himself like a lifeline to fight off the emptiness of a lone bed in a lone apartment.

That is, until the day he must’ve dozed off drunk on someone’s couch, and when he woke up in the dark, helped by a sliver of sunlight coming in through the patchy broken blinds, he saw before he felt the hands in his hands, on his chest, around his waist. 

He didn’t ask any questions. Didn’t speak a word. There could have been many to raise, of the sort of why the hell exactly were his bandmates using him as a pillow. Why didn’t they just go home, to their ratty nasty flat, though that one might’ve been self-evident. What would they do when they woke up. But he didn’t say any of that. Instead he let himself melt into the pleasant warmth of the softest binds he’d ever known.

The mindless humming around him was proof enough that everything was going to turn out alright.

#idk im tired i banged out 900 words of this tonight for seemingly no reason??? #i love writing i hate writing i have a complicated relationship with writing #ty so much for requesting robin mwah #i write things sometimes #motley crue #mick mars #rpf #motleyposting on main

[indig0trolls]

🗣+ for Laerah and Telmon? :o

Accessability link for those who can't read on dash

The man sitting next to you, absolutely cool as a freakin cucumber, is in no way at all what you were expecting. He’s tall and handsome, dressed stylishly, and young. Older than you are, but definitely younger than Deloch, for sure.

No, not at all the sort you’d expected to be meeting over some illicit library hook-up.

Now, Ibrryx? Sure, that guy would totally run a lending library of ancient rebel texts. This guy? No chance in hell, right?

He’s leaning back against the park bench, one arm thrown over the back, the other resting casually on his thigh, and looking at you sidelong through his shades. Studying you.

Cool. As a. Freakin’. Cucumber.

It’s almost a little unnerving really. Sure, you’re no stranger to this kind of meeting, but usually you’re on the other end. Doling out scrutiny with your siblings. You shift uncomfortably and fold your arms, which seems to prompt him to speak.

“So… you said you were looking to subscribe? You….. don’t look like much of a reader,” he pauses and tilts his head away from you, sizing you up. “Nevermind a researcher. And we don’t lend for thesis work, if you’re one of them college kids.”

Wow, okay, so he’s hot and rude.

You should be offended, but… No, he’s right. Still, you puff at him indignantly. “The subscription won’t be for me.”

Like it’s obvious. Well. It sort of is, if he’s asking like that right? 

“It’s for my….” You trail off. You can’t call him your brother, though that’s what he is. Most trolls don’t have siblings like that, right? “Um, broodmate.”

There, that’s safe enough, right?

“Your broodmate,” his tone is flat, unimpressed. Geez, can this guy get any more difficult? Yes. obviously, of course. 

“You know, typically,” the emphasis grates on your nerves. It’s almost condescending, but you don’t interrupt, “this meeting is meant for the intended patron. So that, you know, I can determine if they’re trustworthy or not, if it’s safe to move forward with them.”

He drums his fingers against the back of the bench. Agitated? He must think you’re wasting his time. “It doesn’t really do me any good if you’re fielding their interview.”

“Yeah well. Special circumstances. Someone had to interview you before you could interview him. He’s paranoid like that.” That’s not wholly true. This was your idea, though you cleared it with Xavier first, in case it was a bad idea. “Seems like you can relate.”

The blueblood pauses for a long moment, considering you, before finally laughing. “No, alright, that’s fair. Maybe I’m a bookworm’s honeytrap.”

“The same way I could be a librarian’s?”

“Yeah, exactly.” He leans his head back, looking up through the branches of the tree behind you, still drumming his fingers. “So where are we gonna go from here, then? If we’re both fielding for snakes?”

You hadn’t really considered that. “Oh, um… I guess we try to figure out the best tells for which of us is maybe evil and go from there?”

He laughs. It’s pleasant and warm, disarming. Caenos would like this guy, you think. “Alright, yeah that’s a good start. Maybe I should start with why you’re looking to subscribe your broodmate to a private lending library?”

“Oh well that’s easy. He’s a shut-in who spends all his time with computers, and he likes learning about history but there’s like a limit to what you can find when you don’t leave your house and the internet is awash with propaganda and misinformation campaigns, even for the technologically savvy.” 

“Ah, true enough.” A satisfactory response, it seems.

You tilt your head. “If you’re so paranoid about lending, why do you lend out your less empire friendly books, and why do you let your patrons tell other people about them?”

He looks at you for a long moment, considering your question for a moment. “Because it’s important that people who’re looking for the truth are able to find it, I guess. Because it’s what the authors of the books and journals we share would have wanted.”

It’s a straightforward and honest answer. One you think your parents would like, so it’s good enough for you. Whether Keri will feel the same is debatable.

“Right, well. That’s fair. And um. True, also, I’m sure so. I’m glad you do that. And the other patrons?”

“Well, upkeep on a collection like this is a pretty costly endeavor, so. We don’t really have a choice but to take patrons. And we can’t exactly go advertising our collection on the internet, now can we? Word of mouth is all we have.” He sighs, like it pains him greatly to admit it, but shakes his head. “Besides, I think Jos would still have wanted to share some of this. It’s pretty cool at the end of the night, and people should be able to read some of it.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. So your boss is the bookworm then?” That makes more sense. This guy doesn’t look the type.

“Yeah, I’m just the delivery guy,” he laughs again, but you suspect that’s an understatement, given that he’s here checking you for suspicious activity. Not that it really matters.

“Well, someone’s gotta do it I guess. So, do I pass the sniff test?”

“You did better than most, though, obviously I’d still like to at least meet the man I’ll be sending Jos’s precious texts to.”

“Oh good luck with that. You can meet Xav, though, she’s uhhhh. his guard dog. Pretty much. She’d be collecting the whatevers for him anyhow.”

He tilts his head quizzically, but doesn’t object since he stays silent.

“If that’s um. Cool with you, we can set up another meeting with her? Afraid I’m not the only one you’ve gotta convince.” You look at him, a little sheepishly. You almost feel bad, he’s been cool and now you’ve gotta expose him to your scary older sister for final judgment.

A long pause, consideration. “Yeah, alright, I can handle that. Not tonight though, still got deliveries to make, yeah?”

“Yeah, no, that’s like, fair. I doubt Xav’s free right now anyway. We’ll be in touch then?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” And then mister cool, calm, and collected leans down and pulls a motorcycle helmet out from under the bench and stands, tucking it under his arm. He has a bike. Freaking figures. How did he get involved in a library? “Be seein’ you round, then.”

You slump forward and huff as he stalks away. Boy, you’ve got a lot of work to do now. You pull out your phone and shoot Xav a text. Best get her updated as soon as possible, right?

#my art #i write things sometimes #ftc public library #Telmon #Laerah #this took obscenely long because writing is so so hard

[sandalaris]

Cleaning out my drafts and look what I found! I don’t remember where I was going with these, but they are snippets into the tUA/FDtD fusion/crossover thing I made. So *gestures* here you go.

These were part of @yossariandawn‘s fic promts

#23

"We have to be quiet."

They all remember her before, when she was Santanico and arguably Dad's favorite tool for keeping the rest of them in line. But Kate sometimes thinks of the child named Number Three, the other girl in Kate's odd little family, who loved pink things and cried when Richie and Scott knocked over anthills. Before Mom started calling her Santanico and Dad turned her into a tool to keep the rest of them in line.

#9 (because there needs to be more Freddie/Margaret fics out there)

“You’re in love with her.”

“Yeah.”

Scott’s brows draw together at the lack of infliction in that simple answer.

“But you guys broke up,” he adds, unable to let this go now that he’s started. “You break up a lot.”

Freddie just shrugs, not even looking up from his research; he’s hoping to take the detective’s exam next year and has thrown himself into mastering the material as thoroughly as he can beforehand.

“Do you dream of her?” he asks, curious and almost demanding, and for one brief moment he thinks he’s gone too far, sees the tightening of Freddie’s shoulders and hears the sudden harsh edge against the keyboard.

“I dream of everybody.” He doesn’t sound as tired when he says it these days, not like when they were kids and Dad would make him recount every moment as soon as he woke up, afraid he’d forget something in the extra bit of time it’d take him to write it down himself. He’d have burrowed into Freddie’s head if he could, Scott thinks. Bastard probably tried to. he smiles ruefully before adding, “except Seth.”

Scott rolls his eyes, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his bent knees and loosely lacing his fingers together.

"Yeah, but is that why you guys keep breaking up? Because of what you see."

#fdtd #freddie x margaret #kate fuller #santanico pandemonium #kisa #AU #I write things sometimes

[succubusted]

"something about canaries and coal mines" 05/07/2023

#khi's poetry #i write things sometimes

[scurvgirl]

A little early Christmas gift for my dear @lillotte17 <3 

Aili is @lillotte17, Uthvir is @feynites

Some amorphous modern AU, Rating: E

--

It made little to no sense, but there was such a thing as being too tired to sleep. A weird restlessness had invaded Aili’s body when all she very much wanted to do was sleep. Sleep here in her nice warm bed. Sleep curled up against her Vhenan. Sleep so soundly she perhaps would snore and/or drool - at this point, she just wanted to let herself blissfully slip into unconsciousness. And yet, she was awake. Endless work and worries had plagued her all week and they apparently seemed set on continuing to plague her into the night. 

Insomnia was not a problem she was used to dealing with herself. Uthvir was chronically sleep deprived and was known to be up at all hours - but even they seemed to be drifting into a sound slumber while she struggled to force herself to sleep.

It was. Not. Working. 

As carefully as possible to not disturb the usual insomniac, Aili shifted slowly away from Uthvir to make her way off the bed. Maybe if she tried the couch or let off some magic -

“You can’t sleep,” a sleep deepened voice said. Guilt flooded Aili as she turned to look at Uthvir, their face relaxed, eyes half open. 

“Don’t worry, go back to sleep,” she whispered as she attempted to scoot off the bed. 

“C’mere.” They were quick and pulled her back into bed. They shifted so that they were pressed against her, their lips pressing against the hollow under her ear. “I know a way to get you tired.” They sucked on her earlobe and she gasped. Well. If they’re not going to be sleeping, might as well. 

Uthvir’s hand moved from cupping her face to the strap of her nightgown, sliding off her shoulder and down her arm. Not content to let them do everything, Aili brought her hands up to the face and guided their mouth to hers for a deep, open mouth kiss. She made a soft noise of pleasure when they cupped her breast, fingers pinching her nipple to attention. 

They kissed her until the breath had left her lungs. Only then they moved down her body, kissing her neck, chest, sucking a nipple into their mouth. They sucked and laved until she writhed from the pleasure. They left her breast with obvious intent to mouth southward, but she reached down and guided them back to eye-level.

“I want you up here. Kiss me?” They did, long and filled with sleepy desire. Sex with Uthvir was always good, if intense with backs arching and mouths panting as they drove her pleasure higher and higher. This was different. They were slow and soft, not exactly methodical, but definitely purposeful as they caressed and kissed her. 

Uthvir slipped a hand under her nightgown and caressed her thighs, slowly dragging their nails up...up...before their fingers found her sex. 

She moaned their name into the name, earning a grin from them. Her legs fell open as they began to touch and sink into her. Their thumb circled and pressed as two fingers slowly pumped into her, making her moan and push against them. Her hands found their arms, holding on gently as they worked her higher and higher. In and out they pressed, their thumb drawing maddening circles.

“Please,” she whispered, not sure what she was asking for other than...more. They kissed her and increased speed and pressure of their hand. She mewled into their mouth, hands gripping harder, feeling the press of their fingers. It was like liquid fire coiling up from her sex into her belly, and she pressed against them. They added a third finger and it was enough to send her over the edge. She gasped, and clamped down on their hand, thrusting against them. 

Long, languid moments filled with kissing and gentle touches passed. Uthvir lifted their sex slicked fingers to their mouth and licked them clean. Drowsiness began to eek into the edges of her being but no, not yet. 

“Vhenan,” she said breathlessly, reaching for them. They knew, of course they knew. They slipped the waistband of their sweets below their hips, freeing their erection. Uthvir positioned themselves over her, the stiffness of their cock resting against her entrance. With a slow, measured thrust they entered her. The pace was slow and deliciously excruciating. They kissed throughout, eyes closed and feeling each other in all ways. Uthvir took one of her hands and lifted it above her head, extending her back just a little to allow them more leverage. They left her fingers laced with hers as they began to fuck in earnest. But...they left one of her hands free. Said hand found their exposed hip and gripped their ass, feeling it flex as they fucked. 

She approached her precipice in a slow, tidal wave of buildup before it crashed against her. A whine of aching pleasure left her as she squeezed her sheath ‘round their cock. 

“Fuck, Aili,” they crooned before quickly thrusting into her until they spilled their pleasure. 

Moments passed as they slowly regained their breaths. But they remained close to each other. And true to their word, Aili began to feel her body relax into the mattress and against them. 

“I love you,” she murmured before falling into a deep, restful slumber.

#aili x uthvir #sharp and shiny #aili lavellan #uthvir #i write things sometimes #have a christmas smut - you're overworked and i haven't been sleeping #also kinda wanna name this go the fuck to sleep #scurv writes #spicy #fic

[lazylittledragon]

made a sticker for anyone to slap onto their work if they need to

#ramble #i've only interacted with tiktok via osmosis #but something is eating their brain matter and it makes me sad #it's fine if you only want to read light things (all power to you) but don't whine at me because i write about bad people sometimes #i'm so tired

[bababaka]

Yall need to interact with fanfiction author's more.

So. After the ddos attack on ao3.

I was encouraged to write more comments and make my love known to fanfic writers.

I dont really like commenting. Because im a bit shy and soooo lazy.

Now though. I am writing more comments. And dude. This is so heartwarming. Ya'll need to treat writers better. They are doing the lord's work.

Take for an example, couple of days prior, i was searching for something interesting to read, and found an oneshot quite compelling.

I read it. At the end of it, i was blown away by how good it was. It promised me something and it went beyond my expectations. But then i saw a crime, zero fucking comments!

At that moment, i wasn't feeling up to writing a comment. Because, normally i like to write huge paragraphs. But because im lazy i decided to be brief.

Next day, the author answered that the comment lift their mood for the whole day.

That warmed my heart.

Duuuuuuuude! Write comments! Suport the writers of the fics you like! No need to be something super elaborate. Just give your thoughts. Freak out. Ramble. Ask something. Make theories. Compliment. Make a joke about how you wished to give kudos every chapter but ao3 sucks(not true bby) and won't let you.

Truly. Just. Comment. It can make someone's day. And that is part of the apeal of writing fics. Interacting with people.

Just give love to fanfic writers yall. They deserve this and so much more.

#fanfiction writer #fanfic #ao3 #ramble #it was a naruto fanfic #a narusasusaku fic #also had another thing #i commented on my fav fic that hasnt been updated for a while #i didnt pressured the author to write #because you dont fucking do that >:( #but #just freaked out and talked about how much i loved their writing and the fic #two days later they updated the fic #and then told me i inspired them to finish the chapter #and that's what you're supposed to do! #interact with the author #the fic! #no need to pressure them into writing! #sometimes just words of love and support is enough! #be nice to your writers! #or im gonna smash some sense into yall

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

#spilled ink #writeblr #personal #please don't ask me to talk on my experience on the spectrum lol. i hate how ppl talk to me about it #i really try not to write so specifically about it #bc inevitably someone talks to me like im a child #i think this is the first time i've ever openly identified with it but i've been hinting for years #i might delete this. feels big. #the thing is that being on the spectrum actually IS a spectrum #and if u say ur autistic #inevitably someone makes an assumption about ur needs/symptoms #please do not treat me differently than u usually would. like.... we can tell when you do #and like i mention. i do appreciate the effort. i do truly appreciate the effort. #but it still feels like... #when i was blind. sometimes people kind of did the same-ish thing. #they'd find out i was blind and start talking really loudly? #and while i KNOW they're just trying to help. it would be like. i'd be trying to find #the right way into a building (sometimes only 1 door is unlocked and i couldn't see the signs posted about where to go) #and ppl would be like ''OH UR BLIND? YES SO THIS IS A DOOR. IT OPENS INTO THE BUILDING. IT IS LOCKED NOW." #''A DOOR CAN BE FOUND IN MANY LOCATIONS.'' #and it feels like. when i admit to being autistic #someone comes screeching into my life being like THIS IS A DOOR.

[owls-spice-cabinet]

The Inevitable

This took. Way too long to write, and it just kept getting longer, and here we are. This one-shot is sitting at a total of 13.5k words, so it will be posted in two parts, and I'll link the next/previous part on each post. Okay? Okay. Welcome to me. trying. @cod-dump @totally-not-fandom

Minors please leave, goodbye, go turn 18 before you come back

Words: ~6,500 Content: M/M/M threesome; anal fingering; anal sex; protected and unprotected sex; praise kink; (brief) masturbation; (brief) oral sex; aftercare; sharing a bed

Summary: Ending up here was kind of a given, after those two nights in London. Phillip is still more than happy to let Nik and John have their way with him while he figures out... everything.

Links to Dawning and Daybreak, the prequels to this.

Translations (in order of appearance): Родной = darling (lit. home/native place); Лев = lion; Лучик = sunshine

As soon as the door to the bedroom closed, Phillip felt hands on him—hands, he would point out—that had been absurdly well-behaved all evening until this point. John’s came first, landing on his shoulders and stopping him from walking farther into the room. He knew they were John’s hands because the kisses on his neck and ear that followed almost immediately after them came with a distinct tickle. Phillip sighed to himself and leaned back into him, tilting his head out of the way and letting his eyes fall closed.

“Can I take your coat?” John murmured in his ear. His fingers curled around the collar of Phillip’s black denim jacket.

“Could take more than that,” Phillip answered with a smile.

“Oh, we will.” He heard John chuckle, then felt him continue his trail of kisses up and down the side of his neck and jaw as he slid the jacket off his shoulders. When he stepped back to put it away, presumably, Phillip almost stumbled when he underestimated how much of his weight he’d been putting on John.

Nik’s large, warm hand slid into the curve of Phillip’s back, keeping him steady and drawing him farther into the room as Nik came to face him. The sudden change in temperature combined with the warmth radiating from Nik’s hand sent goosebumps prickling up Phillip’s back and shoulders.

“He is such a gentleman when he wants to be,” Nik smiled, glancing over Phillip’s shoulder briefly before leaning down to kiss him.

Phillip stepped up to him, bringing his arms up to rest them on Nik’s beautifully broad shoulders. He’d only had two glasses of wine with dinner, but Nik’s mouth could do about as much damage to his mental functions in two seconds flat. “Yeah, you’ve both been gentlemen all fuckin’ night,” he said when he managed to pull away. “And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

He heard John laugh quietly before his hands reappeared, this time resting snugly around Phillip’s ribs. “Are you saying we shouldn’t be so nice to you?” he asked, pressing his chest closely against Phillip’s back, boxing him in.

“I’m saying,” Phillip started, but his words faltered after both sets of hands on him squeezed almost at the same time. A rush of arousal made his breathing stutter, and he rested his forehead on Nik’s shoulder in front of him. It was one thing to have separate hook-ups in some random hotel room in London. It was an entirely different thing to have them both here, on a planned excursion, right down to letting him take them to dinner beforehand, then being invited back to their apartment (their very, very nice apartment). “Fuck me, holy hell,” he breathed, already feeling his face start to flush and his dick start to stiffen in his pants.

John pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the back of his neck, making him shudder again. “That’s the plan, yeah.”

One of Nik’s hands lifted from Phillip’s waist to his jaw, gently tilting his head up to kiss him again and drawing a quiet groan from him in the process. Vaguely, he was aware that John had stepped away, but he was far more concerned with getting Nik’s tongue inside his mouth. There was a soft click, and a dim light turned on, shining a faint orange color through his eyelids as his mind slowly turned to mush under the intensity of Nikolai’s attention. It was a distinction between them, he’d noticed. Nik felt a bit like an ocean current, with this constant draw towards an unknown depth, and Phillip had found himself completely surrounded and adrift before he’d even known what had hit him—quite literally.

Not that he’d change a thing, of course.

When he finally had to pull away to breathe, Phillip felt John’s hand at his hip, gripping there almost possessively. John, always more up-front, always blunter, but just as intense, if only in a different manner. He kept his distance, cool and calculating, until he had all the information he wanted. After that, it was like lightning striking a dead tree and setting it ablaze: his affections were consuming; they were bright and sharp and almost made to leave marks.

“Are you feeling left out?” Phillip asked, looking over his shoulder to him.

In reply, John merely grabbed his other hip and pulled Phillip’s ass flush against his groin and the tangible hardness there. Phillip moaned quietly, leaning back into him slightly.

“’Left out’ is not the phrase I’d use, no,” John said, putting his mouth right near Phillip’s ear. “Get your shirt off.”

“Please,” Nik added with a smile, though it was hard to know at whom it was directed.

Phillip hurried to do just that, silently cursing the buttons as his eagerness made it difficult not to rip the garment off of himself. But he wouldn’t do that; this was a nice shirt, no matter how turned on he was or how unreasonably attractive the two men with him were. Fortunately, three pairs of hands made quick work of it and the white undershirt beneath it, leaving him bare from the waist up.

John made a noise in the back of his throat, one arm immediately looping around Phillip’s waist. “Fuck, there we go,” he hissed, pulling their bodies together and putting his mouth to work on the join between Phillip’s neck and shoulder. Phillip’s mouth dropped open as he sagged against him, his head lolling back onto his shoulder.

Nik clicked his tongue. “Always so impatient,” he said, leaning in to press light kisses to the underside of Phillip’s jaw. “Needs to slow down,” he went on, bringing a hand up to cover the hand John had splayed across Phillip’s waist, “and take his time.”

If these two took any more time with this, Phillip was going to lose his fucking mind. He was already squirming in John’s arms under the onslaught of marks and kisses he was leaving on his neck. His mind was feeling slightly fuzzy from all the attention, and his heart was racing from the sheer anticipation. His jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight, and he just wanted so badly.

John’s head came up. “You want us to take our time, Phillip?”

“No, absolutely not!” he gasped. “Fucking hell—if someone doesn’t have his hands or his mouth on my dick in the next two minutes, I’m gonna lose it.”

It made them both laugh, John burying his face against Phillip’s head, and Nik putting his head back, his eyes squinting nearly closed when his cheeks rounded with his smile. He was so fucking beautiful, it was almost unfair. Almost, because the very next thing he did was cup Phillip’s face in both hands to kiss him.

“You got some ideas this time, or are you still open to negotiations?” John asked, wrapping both arms around his waist.

“Well, someone better fuck me properly,” Phillip answered, “because we actually have the time, the space, and I’m assuming the equipment to do that.”

Once again, John helpfully ground the bulge in his pants against Phillip’s ass, pulling a quiet groan from his lips. “I would certainly hope we have the equipment.”

Phillip stoically resisted the instinctual urge to press back against him, because that line had been so horrendously bad, he didn’t want to reward it. “Nikolai,” he said. “Beautiful man that you are.”

That made Nik’s whole face light up like a dog whose owner just said the word walk. “Yes?”

He patted John’s arms around his waist. “Get this man’s clothes off. Now, before he says anything worse than what just came out of his mouth.”

There was a second of silence in which Phillip started lifting John’s arms from around his body before what he’d said fully sank in. “What?” John said, looking between the two of them.

The smile on Nik’s face turned sharper, his dark eyes moving to fix on John’s face as Phillip slipped out of his hold and stepped aside. Nik reached out and took hold of one side of the collar of John’s open overshirt, pulling him closer.

“Nik…”

“What?” Both his tone and his expression were kept carefully innocent, even as his hands curled around John’s waist. “Are you suddenly opposed to me taking your clothes off after all these years?”

John shot a glare at Phillip, but there was hardly any heat to the expression, and he was quickly diverted when Nik’s lips pressed onto his neck. He turned back to Nik, about to say something, but was interrupted by the Russian’s mouth finding his, finally. Phillip watched, moving the short distance to the bed so he could sit down and take off his shoes. John’s overshirt came off first, leaving him in a light grey V-neck t-shirt that had had Phillip desperately trying not to stare at his chest all evening.

He could stare all he wanted now, hungrily taking in the way the fabric stretched over his chest and strained around his shoulders and biceps. His eyes caught Nik’s hands sliding under the hem and traveling up… and up…. Phillip kicked off his second shoe and whistled softly.

Immediately, John broke the kiss with Nik to whip his head around and stare at him. “Did you just whistle at me?”

Phillip met his gaze. “Well, it sure wasn’t Nik.”

That got another flat look, but before John could reply, Nik pulled his shirt up and over his head, forcing him to be rid of it just to see again.

“I don’t blame him,” Nik grinned, shamelessly staring at John’s chest. “You are very handsome, Родной.”

Phillip vaguely recalled Nik once telling him what that word meant, but he couldn’t be bothered to think about it any further right now. He’d just realized he’d never actually seen John entirely shirtless—either of them, come to think of it. Last time, he’d been far more focused on getting into John’s pants than getting his shirt off, and with Nik, his ability to form coherent thoughts had left him as soon as Nik’s hands had gotten past his waistband.

But holy fuck. John was fucking stunning. After how many years in the military, he finally could put two and two together to actually look at what was in front of him and realize he wanted it. Phillip knew his own musculature was fairly lean and always had been, but John…. He could see a thin layer of fat blanketing his abdomen, could see Nik’s thumb sink into it at his hip when he squeezed. His eyes followed the dark trail of hair from where it disappeared below John’s waistband up to where it splayed out over his chest. The metal tags hung around his neck sat perfectly in the valley between his pecs, and the urge to bury his nose next to them was slowly overtaking most of Phillip’s mind.

He hadn’t even noticed John or Nik were speaking until John stepped up to him and put his hand in his hair, gently encouraging him to look up at his face.

“I asked a question,” he said with a smile that implied he knew Phillip hadn’t heard it.

Phillip swallowed. “Didn’t hear it.” His eyes darted down when they caught the movement of Nik’s hand on John’s side again, slowly running up and down. Phillip’s hands itched to join it.

“I think you’re distracting him, Лев,” Nik said with a smirk, kissing John’s bare shoulder in front of him.

If that wasn’t the fucking truth.

John kept his hand in Phillip’s hair as he leaned down to kiss him forcefully, his tongue slipping between his lips that hadn’t had the chance to fully close. Phillip moaned into his mouth, his hands immediately moving to touch and hold and knead whatever bare skin he could reach. He almost felt a little lightheaded from the sheer force of desire running through him as he was eased onto his back. John’s free hand slid up the side of his ribs to his nipple, pinching it lightly and rolling it between two fingers. Phillip gasped, arching into the novel sensation without thinking, a quiet keening noise coming from the back of his throat.

“Fuck me, beautiful,” John groaned. “Prettiest fuckin’ noises you make.”

He was getting desperate after all the attention going everywhere except where he needed it most. “Fuck, John,” he whined as the warm palm of John’s hand massaged over his nipple, and his mouth left a trail of wet kisses under his ear and down his neck. “Please, please—”

“Please what, Лучик?” Nik’s voice came from somewhere to the left on the bed.

He growled in frustration when it took him longer than usual to put together a sentence. “Need someone—hah, fuck.” John had pulled just a bit more on his hair, scrambling his thoughts all over again. He grabbed John’s chin, forcing him to look at him. “If you’re not having too much fun, please fuck me already,” he said. Some of the sternness in his voice was lost for being a bit breathless, but at least he’d gotten the words out.

John hummed. “And Nik calls me impatient.” Bastard.

Nik chuckled from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Nik also asked if he could prep you for me.”

A jumble of memories from the hotel in London surfaced in Phillip’s mind, reminding him exactly how well Nik could use his hands. His legs hadn’t stopped trembling for hours after he’d left. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he said, turning his head to see where Nik was sitting.

For all the time and teasing it had taken just to get to that point, Phillip was quickly reminded of how efficient John and Nik could be when they wanted. In under a minute, John had stripped him of his remaining clothing, kicked off his own shoes, and half-helped half-dragged Phillip farther onto the bed (the king-sized bed, he might point out), laying him out diagonally on his back with his head pillowed on one of his thighs. Nik took off his shoes and tossed a bottle to John before climbing onto the bed and crawling to kneel between Phillip’s legs.

Nik let out a breath as his eyes raked up and down the sight in front of him. His hands went to Phillip’s thighs, kneading the muscle there as he watched Phillip try not to squirm under the direct attention. “Just as pretty as I remember,” he smiled, his hands sliding up to where the back of Phillip’s thighs met his ass and squeezing.

Phillip huffed and looked up to the ceiling, feeling a searing blush coming over his face and down his neck. In the time since starting… whatever it was the three of them were doing, he’d been called pretty and beautiful more times than he could ever count. He had no idea what to do with it, only that it never failed to make him turn all shades of pink. He lifted his legs a little on reflex as Nik’s hands moved. Nik only shuffled closer and used his knees to prop up Phillip’s thighs, keeping his legs open for him.

He leaned over, starting a line of kisses just above Phillip’s belly button. “You were so good for me the first time,” he murmured as he worked his way higher. “Made such filthy noises for me.” Phillip felt his teeth scrape gently against his bottom rib and gave a quiet whine. Nik grinned up at him before continuing. “I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers so perfectly again.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nik,” John hissed, shifting his legs underneath Phillip’s head.

The grin he threw John was nothing short of wicked. But the expression softened when he turned back to Phillip. “Can you do that again for me, Лучик?”

Phillip let out a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he’d held in. “Yes, yeah,” he nodded, reaching for Nik’s hand on the sheets next to him. “I can do that—”

He’d meant to add a please at the end, but it was stifled by Nik’s mouth finally reaching his own, and that was just fine by him. There was a soft click when John popped the cap on the bottle of lube Nik had tossed to him earlier. Nik drew back, sitting back on his heels. He kept one hand on Phillip’s hip and held the other out to John. It struck Phillip then, the enormous amount of trust that had gone unspoken for him to be here. This wasn’t a hotel room, this wasn’t a room on base somewhere, this was a living space. The whole room had smelled of them both as soon as he’d walked in, and they’d led him here, brought him into their space, and were very happily working together to utterly ruin him.

The thoughts made his head spin, until John patted his cheek and made him refocus on him. “Stop thinking. Can hear it from here,” he said without any edge. “Let Nik do what he likes best.”

“Best?” Nik repeated, rubbing his fingers together to warm up the lube John had put in his hand.

“Is there another reason you take for bleedin’ ever getting me open any chance you get?”

Nik just grinned and didn’t give an answer. His hand dipped out of sight between Phillip’s legs, and the steady buzz of anticipation that had been humming under his skin since he’d seen them that evening built to a boil. Just as quickly, most of it vanished, dissipating under the press of Nik’s finger against his hole.  One of John’s hands came down on the center of his chest, the warmth from it seeping into his skin. A quiet breath left his lips as Nik’s finger gently eased past his entrance. It wasn’t a familiar feeling yet, but he did know with great certainty now that it would feel good—it would feel amazing—in time.

“So good for us,” Nik murmured, slowly working his finger in and out, never leaving him entirely empty.

Phillip let his eyes close, floating in the rush of pleasure the phrase sent through him. John’s hand on his chest moved to cover one side of his chest, pressing his fingers gently into the muscle there.

“You enjoy that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble from somewhere above.

Phillip’s eyes flicked open, a snarky reply already forming in his mind. In what world wouldn’t he be enjoying this?

John’s other hand went to cup his face, upside-down though it was. “You enjoy being a good boy for us, beautiful?”

Fuck. His breath hitched. A shock of arousal bloomed in his belly, making him clench down around Nik’s finger involuntarily. He heard Nik groan and felt his finger flex inside him a fraction. His dick twitched, already hard and beading liquid at the tip from Nik’s careful attention. Phillip tried to cover his face, but John grabbed his hands to stop him.

“Oh, no, no,” John smiled, holding Phillip’s hands away from his face. “We need to see all the pretty faces you make.”

Nik’s finger crooked very deliberately, nailing the spot inside him that got him arching off the bed. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth dropped open with a cry as the pleasure washed over him in a flood.

“God dammit,” he breathed. He glanced down and saw a very satisfied smile stuck on Nik’s face. Oh, he was not going to be walking right tomorrow morning.

“I don’t think you’re going to last very long, Родной,” Nik said, looking to John as he very deliberately avoided Phillip’s prostate with each thrust of his finger. John replied with some unfamiliar word in Russian, but it sounded like a half-hearted insult.

Phillip squirmed where he lay stuck between them, wanting more now that Nik had given him a taste.

One of John’s hands let go of Phillip’s hands that he’d still been holding and moved to rest atop his abdomen, keeping him in place lightly. “Need something? Use your words, Phillip.”

Bastard. He whined quietly when Nik just barely ghosted over the spot he’d been avoiding. It made his toes curl in desperation. “More. Want more, please, Nik.”

Nik hummed appreciatively in response. “He asks so nicely. Should learn from him, he’s a good example,” he told John with a smirk.

John might have responded, but whatever he said was lost on Phillip as Nik slowly added his second finger to join the first. Phillip groaned, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle burn that came when Nik pressed into him. Time turned quickly to mush in his brain as Nik’s long and very talented fingers worked him open. He drifted in and out of awareness, happily floating in the haze of pleasure and enjoying the sporadic jolts that came when Nik nudged the right spot.

Two fingers became three after a while, and Phillip happily arched into the feeling of being full. “Yes, fuck yes,” he hissed.

It wasn’t lost on him that Nik was being slightly more restrained than their previous encounter. But it also wasn’t lost on him that last time, the goal had been to make him come as many times as possible in a given number of hours, and Nik had taken his own sweet time going about that. But this time, he had to share, and was purposefully pulling Phillip as close to the edge of climax as he safely could without fear of accidentally pushing him over with a well-timed word of praise. In short, it was fucking torture, feeling perfectly strung out, with warm hands still roaming over his bare skin, and three fingers pumping into his ass with unerring precision.

He was practically writhing under their hands when Nik’s hand slowed its onslaught. As the fog of pleasure thinned, a mindless jumble of protests rose in Phillip’s throat, but never made it much further. Nik leaned over him as he withdrew his hand, happily taking whatever words were forming in Phillip’s mouth into his own.

Phillip grumbled when he pulled back, reaching out to his face to bring him back, but he caught his wrist in his clean hand. “I think we’ve tortured John enough, Лучик,” he smiled, his dark eyes flicking towards John briefly. “And as much as I enjoy having my fingers in you, if I put anything else there, I would break you.”

He’d said the same thing last time.

“John better fucking hurry up then,” he grumbled, letting Nik hold his head up slightly so John could slip out from underneath it. He carefully moved from where he’d been kneeling, letting Phillip’s legs rest back on the sheets. He didn’t like the combination of being this outrageously turned on and feeling empty.

John flicked his nose. “Watch it. You wanna walk tomorrow or not?”

He grinned, looking over at him upside down as he shuffled out of his pants and underwear. “Is that a trick question?” A brief glare was all he got in reply. He licked his lips when John’s cock bobbed free of his clothes. The thrum of anticipation was back in his blood and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from John’s figure as he took something out of a drawer in the bedside table and knelt on the bed near Phillip’s hips. “Can I do that?” he asked, recognizing the square foil packet in John’s hands.

John looked at him, then glanced at Nik sitting against the headboard beside them both. He tossed the packet onto his chest and moved to straddle Phillip’s hips. Phillip put a hand on the condom, then jolted when their dicks brushed up against each other. But he pushed himself up and tore open the packet. John was silent as he rolled the condom down his shaft, only taking deep breaths and squeezing his eyes closed once. When it was done, he put a hand loosely around the front of Phillip’s neck and pulled him in against his mouth, which helpfully reminded him how much he enjoyed letting John push him around. Phillip sighed into the kiss and let him lay him back down on the sheets.

“Good boy,” John murmured against his lips, sending a shudder down Phillip’s spine. John picked up the bottle of lube that he’d set aside before while he repositioned himself to kneel between Phillip’s legs instead of on top of them. “God, you are a sight spread out like this, aren’t you?” he said while he waited for the lube to warm up on his fingers.

Nik hummed in agreement. “Makes me glad he wears his layers in the field. Wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.”

“You keep them to yourself on a normal day?” Phillip replied, turning his head. Nik just gave a sharp smile in return.

He turned back when John’s hand picked up his left leg to bend it at the knee. “Eyes on me, beautiful. You tell me if anything hurts, yes?”

Phillip nodded, the anticipation once again building up and robbing him of enough breath to speak. John spread the lube down his shaft and leaned over him to line himself up. The blunt pressure was familiar, albeit multiplied, from what he’d felt with just Nik’s fingers. It didn’t hurt, though—it was just enough of a pleasant burn. He gasped quietly when he felt the head of John’s cock slip in and rest there.

“Good?”

“Yes,” he breathed, one arm twining up the arm John had planted near his shoulder. “Yeah, keep going.”

John dipped his head to kiss his forehead before he pressed on. It was slow, arduously slow, but Phillip didn’t want him to go any faster just yet. He was enjoying the growing feeling of being utterly surrounded by John’s presence—by his warmth, his strength, his scent. He could hear Nik’s breathing nearby, too, and in the best way possible, he knew there wasn’t a safer place to be in the world right now.

A twinge of discomfort made his brows scrunch and his hand tighten around John’s shoulder. John stopped moving, blue eyes fixed on Phillip’s face, reading it carefully.

“I’m good—just,” Phillip paused, breathing deeply. “Just wait a sec for me.”

Again, John bent down, this time kissing his cheek and then his brow. “Take what you need. You’re doing well,” he added, his voice a low murmur in the blanketing stillness in the room. He turned his head slightly to say something in quiet Russian to Nik, who nodded in reply and got off the bed and disappeared into a side room—Phillip assumed it was a bathroom.

He tapped John’s shoulder. “Think I’m good.”

It went on just like that for what felt like far longer than it probably was. Phillip’s mind was already reeling from just how full he felt, and how there always seemed to be more to take regardless. Nik returned with a hand towel, and John wiped his hand clean before gently using it to pull Phillip’s leg up a bit further. It drew a groan from him as the angle changed minutely and John’s cock pressed into him that much deeper. At some point, John lowered himself to his elbows, framing Phillip’s head as he pressed to fill him.

And the praise never stopped. If it wasn’t coming from John, Nik picked it up from where he sat again by the headboard, watching intently. It made his insides flip to have someone else’s eyes on him like this, but it was never unpleasant or unwelcome.

John picked up Phillip’s other leg to make it bend like the first one, nuzzling under his jaw to leave a trail of kisses while he did it. Phillip wrapped his legs around him instead, and John growled right by his ear, rolling his hips forward until they pressed up against his ass. He buried his face in the juncture between Phillip’s neck and shoulder, taking carefully measured breaths and clenching his fists until the knuckles paled.

Phillip wasn’t much better, his mind and body stumbling as they tried to process how full he felt—and how fucking good he felt. He slid his hand along John’s shoulder to the back of his neck as his mind snagged on the fact that a man he’d once had orders to kill was now balls deep in his ass and struggling to regain composure because of it. It was a heady concept. “John?”

He raised his head immediately, kissing him forcefully. “You’re fine, darlin’,” he murmured against his mouth before pressing their lips together a second time.

He heard Nik hum in amusement before he spoke. “I told you, you wouldn’t—”

John broke off his kiss abruptly to look over. “Fuck off, Nik.”

It took a moment for his hazy mind, but he eventually remembered Nik saying something about John not lasting very long. A slow smile appeared on his face, and he let the hand on the back of John’s neck slip down until he could dig his fingers into one of his pecs. “Did I almost make you lose it, handsome?” His smile only widened when he got a familiar glare in reply.

“Does the bratty comment mean you’re ready for me to move?”

“Oh, were you still gonna get around to that?” He didn’t know why pushing John’s buttons was so immensely entertaining, but it was. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Nik laughed quietly, covering his mouth when John glared at him. He huffed in annoyance, but couldn’t do much else with both arms still supporting his weight above Phillip. Slowly, he pulled his hips back a couple inches, then pushed back in firmly. It made Phillip’s stomach swoop and his thighs clench around John’s sides.

He grunted, ducking his head. “Christ alive,” he hissed, already pulling back again, farther than before. “You are a fuckin’ vice, sweetheart,” he added as he thrust in.

The endearment, no matter how intentional it had been, had Phillip’s eyes slipping closed again as a rush of heated desire ran through him. Without meaning to, he squeezed down around John’s shaft as he slid out of him, earning another strangled curse and a particularly strong thrust back in. The force rocked his body slightly, knocking a moan from his chest. His hands clamped down wherever they’d settled on John’s body.

“Shit, do that again,” he breathed, a little dizzy from just how spectacularly good that had felt. John did just that, and he swore he saw stars when his eyes rolled back behind his lids. “Yes, jus’ like that, fuck,” he gasped.

“You want me to be a little rough with you?” John asked. God, he was sight to behold looking down at him. His blue eyes were dark with desire. His ears and neck were flushed pink. Small strands of hair were drooping over his forehead, and even more were sticking up at the back of his head where Phillip had messed with them.

Phillip grinned, squeezing his legs around him slightly. “Pretty please?”

“Fuck me,” he muttered, leaning to capture his mouth again.

When he drew back, he picked up his movements again, gradually finding a steady rhythm with his thrusts. It wasn’t a very fast pace, but each thrust was strong enough to jostle Phillip’s whole body even with his legs locked around John’s waist. As far as Phillip cared, he was in seventh heaven, basking in the friction of John’s length slipping in and out against his walls and enjoying every second of having his insides rearranged inch by inch, one thrust at a time. He wasn’t shy about making sure John knew that, either. Frankly, he was over the fucking moon just to have finally figured out what all the fuss was about over sex in the first place. It probably would’ve taken a gag to shut him up.

“Fuck yes! God, that’s good,” he groaned, digging his fingers into the meat of John’s shoulders. “Can you—ah, shit!” His coherency was rapidly failing him. “Harder, can you fuck me ha—” The word broke off into a loud moan when the head of John’s dick happened to press right into his prostate without warning.

“Harder?” John repeated, breathing heavily but still far more composed.

He grabbed one of Phillip’s legs and bent it up almost against his chest. He resumed the same rhythm more or less, and on the third piston of his hips against Phillip’s ass, he found his target. Phillip cried out, pressing his head back against the sheets, his mind quickly unraveling as John managed to hit that same spot over and over again with almost every powerful stroke. Phillip’s body went alight with pleasure, his heart pounding, the arousal pooling at the base of his spine pulling like a rope, tighter and tighter, closer and closer to snapping.

His vocabulary shrunk until the jumble of words pouring out of his mouth included only John’s name, a slew of curses, and the word yes as he hurtled towards an orgasm that would no doubt shatter him. He tapped one of John’s shoulders where he clung to him, summoning enough brain power to say, “Keep going, fuck—please,” between thrusts when he could breathe.

John kissed him, slightly uncoordinated, with more teeth involved than usual, but just as fiercely.

“You’re being such a good boy.” It took his scrambled brain several seconds to figure out John wasn’t the one speaking, considering his tongue was still very much in Phillip’s mouth. Nik went on, sounding a bit closer than he had been. “Taking him so well, just beautifully.”

Phillip whined, breaking away from John’s mouth and screwing his eyes closed. Fuck, he was so close. He was teetering on the edge of oblivion, but just couldn’t quite get the momentum to fall, and it was maddening. But he didn’t have words in his head to say that, so all he could do was claw at John’s shoulders and back, pulling him closer with his leg.

“Are you close, Лучик?” Nik asked, now lying on his side next to him, combing his fingers through Phillip’s hair. The soft gesture was in direct contrast to the harsh pace at which John’s dick was slamming into him. It made his head spin worse than it already was.

But he nodded desperately. “Please,” he whimpered, too lost to care what he sounded like. “Please, ‘m so close.” Even with the praise and the attention, it wasn’t enough, not quite. He growled in frustration.

“Do you want a hand?” Nik asked, slipping his other hand between them to rest on Phillip’s stomach.

“Yes!”

Phillip could have sobbed from relief when Nik’s warm hand wrapped around his aching dick. John’s pace had started to stutter every few thrusts, but he maintained his precision, absolutely nailing his sweet spot with each stroke. Nik barely had to move his hand, merely slicking his fingers with the precum oozing out of the tip, and holding him loosely for John’s thrusts to do the work of sliding the shaft through his grasp. But it was exactly what Phillip needed.

It felt like he’d been punched in the gut as his climax knocked the breath out of him. He came in spurts across his own stomach and Nik’s hand as his body locked up around John.

“Jesus, fuck—!" John gasped, his hips stuttering over the next few thrusts as he fucked him through his orgasm. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he grunted, finally pushing in deep and emptying himself into the condom with a groan.

It took several long seconds for Phillip’s brain to come back online. His body felt like jelly, and his brain wasn’t much better. There was a thin sheen of sweat over his face, neck, and chest. His legs specifically protested when John let go of the leg he’d been holding and eased it back down to the sheets. John’s mouth found his, temporarily distracting him from the discomfort.

“How are you feeling?” Nik asked, stroking Phillip’s hair softly.

He paused, just breathing for a second or two. “Wobbly. But… good. Really good.” He squirmed and frowned, then pointed to the mess on his stomach. “Don’t like this, though.”

John kissed his forehead one last time before pushing himself up. “We’ll get you cleaned up. This might feel strange,” he added. He used one hand to hold the base of the condom while he carefully eased out of Phillip’s hole. It did feel strange, but Nik was very happy to distract him with kisses and praise until it was done.

Again, the two of them were fast and efficient—and seemingly more so to Phillip’s fucked-out brain that was still moving rather sluggishly. Nik used the towel he’d gotten earlier to wipe off his stomach and between his legs, pressing kisses to his sweaty skin whenever he could. John disposed of his condom and then disappeared into the bathroom, only to return with a glass of water. Phillip didn’t have any experience being on this end of the aftercare, but he had to admit, he enjoyed it. It left him with a warm fuzzy feeling, as cliché as it sounded. Nik helped him sit up, and John sat down behind him, handing him the glass and then wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Your hair’s amazing,” he remarked, reaching up and poking some of the strands sticking up at wild angles at the back of his head. It did the same thing every morning, and a good portion of his routine was taming it in the mirror before he could face his troops.

Phillip rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it does that.”

“You look like a hedgehog.”

“I do not!”

Nik laughed. “No, he’s right. It’s cute.”

Despite his efforts, Phillip couldn’t stop himself smiling. He took a big drink from the glass in his hand, happily settling against John’s chest behind him.

“Still feeling alright?” John asked, rubbing Phillip’s bare stomach with his thumbs.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Is it alright if I stop holding you?”

It was an odd question, but he answered honestly. “Yeah… I’m pretty sure. Why?” John rested his chin on his shoulder. “Because Nik’s not gonna be able to sleep tonight if he doesn’t fuck me out of his system..."

Continued in Part 2 ->

#i write things sometimes #nikpricegraves #cod mwiii #cod fanfic #cod smut #captain john price #john price #cod nikolai #phillip graves

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

#dcxdp #dpxdc #batman #danny phantom #dead on main #soulmate au #my writing #fanfiction #red hood #danny fenton #jason todd #I'm so sorry for starting another one #this is just a one-shot right now #but the ideas have hit me so I may write more later #trying not to get distracted from my other fics #but also trying not to let focus on my other fics hinder writing in general #cause sometimes if I try too hard to focus on one thing I just get super stuck and upset and end up not being able to work on it at all #oh well #writing is writing #hope you enjoy #whatever this was

[jgvfhl]

@mikeluciraphgabe come get your birthday present!!!! @cod-dump come get something inspired by your post!!! And anyone else who wants to read some touch-starved Phillip Graves dealing with very touchy Nik and Price. And by "dealing with" I mean "having several internal crises about it."

Seven to Nine Business Days

Chapters 1/1

Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing mostly)

Word count: 5106

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2022

Relationship: NikPriceGraves

Summary: "This was the main difference: Taskforce 141 and its affiliates (Alex and Karim qualified, from what Phillip could gather) were remarkably touchy.

Granted, Phillip wasn’t one to talk, so he didn’t. One of his lieutenants, Jackson, had once described his leadership style as 'like if a Batman villain was a Little League coach on the weekends.' He’d taken it as a compliment, seeing as it had made the others in the room laugh themselves to tears. When it had become clear he hadn’t understood the comparison, he’d promptly received more punches to the shoulders, slaps on the back, and loving mockeries of his (mild!) accent than he could ever need in a lifetime. The memory alone still made him smile."

#i write things sometimes #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod mw22 #modern warfare 2022 #nikpricegraves #phillip graves #john price #captain john price #cod nikolai

[anaalnathrakhs]

hi dear readers, today i offer you: slightly out of pocket crossover

Rating: Teens and up Audiences No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Fandom: Metalocalypse, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Relationship: Pinkie Pie & Toki Wartooth Characters: Toki Wartooth, Pinkie Pie, small roles for everyone else Additional Tags: Crossover, Cartoon Physics, Childhood Trauma, Crack, Canon-Typical Alcoholism, Past Child Abuse, Accidental Bonding, Friendship, graphic description of cake 

#it's not crack treated seriously it's more like... crack treated thoroughly #by virtue of the source material being very cracky to begin with #metalocalypse #mtl #metalocalypse fanfic #mtl fanfic #mlp #my little pony friendship is magic #mlp fanfic #mlp fic #mlp fanfiction #toki wartooth #pinkie pie #i write things sometimes

[emlovessid]

@jegulus-microfic december 13, jail, 92 words

“Would you still love me if I went to jail?” Regulus asks one morning over breakfast.

James pauses with a piece of toast halfway to his mouth, “Depends what you did.”

“Depends?”

“Yes, depends,” James laughs. “I love you, but there’s some things even I couldn’t forgive.”

“Like what?”

James takes a bite of his toast, chewing as he tilts his head to the side, deep in thought before saying, “Like if you killed Sirius. Or Remus.”

“What if I killed Barty?” Regulus adds.

“Oh, love. I’d help you hide the body.”

#sorry barty #i love you really #jegulus #jegulus fic #marauders #sometimes i write things

[momotonescreaming]

I need more fic where Steve does dumb teenage boy, bastard older brother shit The party rings Steve to ask for a ride to the arcade, and he asks them if their bikes got flat tyres, or broke. And when they say no, Steve just says - cool, you can bike there then - and hangs up. He goes back to flop on his couch to watch the baseball because he has plans today and they do not involve leaving the house or wearing pants. He goes out to lunch with Dustin, both of them going to a diner together. And Dustin forgets his wallet, it's fine, and he watches Steve order two burgers, two fries, two drinks. Only when they arrive Steve starts eating both of them himself and laughs his ass off when Dustin shrieks indignantly (Steve gives him one of the burgers. It has a bite taken from it). Steve is working a shift at Family Video with Robin, the pair of them reshelving the rewound tapes. He asks if she can hold his stack while he ties his shoelaces - and Robin says yes - and after he finishes retying his laces he just, doesn't ask for the tapes back. And he doesn't say anything and sees how long Robin can shelve his tapes for him before she realises.

Steve whispering in Eddie's ear, dropping his voice low in that way he knows Eddie likes. Acting all coy and sexy and asking Eddie if he wants to know what Steve's thinking. When he says yes Steve burps in his face super loudly and Eddie laughs so hard he almost pukes.

#steve is a bitch and a bastard and i love him for it #(eddie also loves him for it) #steve's always complaining and saying no to the kids #idk sometimes i think people make him too much of a pushover #Stranger Things #Steve Harrington #steddie #My Writing