#the three of us | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ab4eva · 1 month

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‘The Three of Us’

Fully co-authored with: @precious-little-scoundrel

Thanks to: My incomparable co-author & sweetheart Marina, for being willing to follow this rabbit hole with me and explore this little trio! And for the gorgeous mood board and vibes, I’m obsessed. And to Ashley, for being the best damn cheerleader we could ask for. ♥️

Warnings: All the sex, 18+ only

Word count: 8k

Sometimes in Hollywood, magic happens behind the scenes - in a dark corner of Bar Lubitsch or a little poolside bungalow at the Chateau Marmont. Things that are only whispered about in certain circles or sent to Deuxmoi with the stipulation of “anon please.” The blurry flash of a hand, littered with telltale rings, on her Instagram story. The paparazzi photos of a drunken night out before the three of them disappeared into the balmy Los Angeles evening. The fandom set ablaze by rumors as they combed over every sign, every possibility, every look that they took for god’s honest truth. A myth in the making, never confirmed, never denied.

When a ballsy journalist had the gumption to ask Callum about the rumors some months down the road, he just grinned his Cheshire smile and shook his head, the slightest blush hinting at the corners of his already ruddy cheeks.

“Nah, mate, can’t believe everyfing you read in Hollywood, can ya.” A statement, no trace of question in his ice blue eyes as he licked his cherry lips and stared the journalist down, daring them to dig deeper. His heart may have started pounding a little too hard but only he knew that. Nothing belied the steely gaze he turned on the journalist - not a flex in his jaw or a slight blink or the whisper of a breath. Needless to say, that journalist had no desire to go toe-to-toe with all six feet two inches of Chelsea’s finest lad. They let the subject drop, though the air had already been sucked out of the tiny interview room. Callum noted with suppressed glee the way the journalist shifted in their seat uncomfortably, trying to regain the upper hand.

Serves ya right, ya wanker, floated through Cal’s head and it took all his energy to focus his thoughts on the next question being asked of him. Now that the taboo subject had been brought up, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting back towards that fateful night, like the breach in a ship’s hull the memories flooded in. The soft give of her flesh beneath his fingers as he dug them into her hips, needing her closer, closer. The salty taste of Austin’s skin on his tongue as he dragged it slowly across his friend’s collarbone, the streak of wetness left behind shimmering in the moonlight. The mingled sighs and shared breaths, overpowering and heady in that dark little bungalow. That was the night he couldn’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter how many books he read or women he kissed or bloody hikes he took in Runyon Canyon, he was always going back to the night when everything changed.

“Didn’t I see you at the Luchino Visconti retrospective a couple nights ago? At the Academy?” The very definition of tall, dark and handsome has just walked in the room, smiling down at you and waiting expectantly for your answer. This is Callum Turner, the new client you’re working with for Masters of the Air press (alongside Austin Butler, your regular client and current boyfriend-adjacent…guy. It’s casual, you’re both keeping it casual. For now.).

“Oh! Were you there? Wasn’t it amazing?” you gush, a little flustered.

“It’s kind of rare to meet another Visconti fan. You must be one of the good ones.” He grins at you, all warmth and puppy dog eagerness. A kindred spirit, an instant connection. You would be very charmed by him, if you weren’t already attached to someone else. Who are you kidding, you’re charmed by him anyway. Talking with him comes easily, and the time flies by as you style his hair, moisturize his skin, add a bit of concealer here and there. He’s funny, sweet, intelligent. Austin has told you a bit about him, about his friend who helped him during one of the most confusing times of his life. But this - this is more than you were expecting. He’s more than you were expecting. And you’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. When he asks you out for a drink later, you’re absolutely certain. It is with no small amount of regret that you turn him down.

The first time you noticed something akin to a spark between the man you’d casually been dating and his co-star was during press interviews for their new television series, Masters of the Air. As Austin and Callum’s groomer and makeup artist, you were allowed a seat at the back of the room, near the video monitors, ready to jump into action if one of Austin’s curls needed to be twisted back into place or if Callum’s nose got too shiny and needed a bit of powder. You glanced up from your phone to see the two of them leaned so close together their shoulders touched, just barely. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Callum’s mouth looked as if it might graze the shell of Austin’s ear, a smirk playing at the edges, as his dark, curly head bent conspiratorially towards his friend’s blonde one. Silly boys, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched them. You’d seen that look on Austin’s face before…it was almost one of… adoration.

Without warning your mind flashed back to last night, Austin gazing up at you through your thighs, a look of devotion on his face, his sandy hair ruffled and his eyes slightly dazed. The very same look that he’s now turned on Callum… Nah… You laughed at yourself quietly and shook your head to clear your thoughts, silently scolding yourself. You’d been reading too many spicy novels recently and clearly your imagination was running wild. It made sense that he and Callum were close. Austin had been lost as a newborn calf without a mother after Elvis had wrapped and Masters of the Air had started filming. A brotherhood, that’s what Austin had called it. And Callum had been his right hand man. And that’s all, you were sure. Pretty sure.

Bar Lubitsch is dim and noisy, crowded with cast and crew of Masters for an impromptu celebration while so many of them are in town. Austin hasn’t been here in years, always remembered it being a good time. He wants to show you and Callum a good time, after all the hard work you three have been putting in for press the past couple of weeks. That was two hours and three drinks ago, and you watch them now from your perch at the bar and how much they feed each other’s souls, like displaced brothers, reunited after years apart. The evening is starting to shift and blur, so many drinks and people and noise and singing. You never knew Callum loved to sing so much, until he was singing karaoke at the top of his lungs and the whole bar was gathered around the little stage in the back room, jumping to the beat while he sang the most risqué lyrics right to Austin, like they were the only two people in the room:

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

You’re not sure you’ll ever be over Callum pinching Austin’s cheeks, channeling his inner Egan, and singing right at him with drunken gusto while Austin is too tipsy to remember not to bask in it and it’s probably the cutest, and hottest, thing you’ve ever seen. It’s only afterwards that you start to feel a tiny flicker of jealousy. There’s something between them, a connection that time and distance hasn’t untethered. Later, you drag Austin into one of the faded velvet booths, snuggling up to him as he pulls you into a one-armed embrace, kissing your temple with glassy eyes and a crooked smile. His heady mix of sweat and cologne mingle, along with the alcohol, and suddenly you’re lightheaded. Not to mention the fact that his soft lips have seemed to have move, with lightning speed, from your temple to your neck. You gently push him away, and he gives you a questioning look but you need to see his face when you ask him this.

“Hey…what’s going on with Callum? Because, it’s clearly something? And whatever it is, it’s ok, really it is…but…I do have eyes, Austin,” you blurt out, biting your lip. You see a dozen different emotions cross his features, like a movie playing out in real time - surprise, guilt, defensiveness, longing, acceptance. His face goes all red and he leans his head back, his tan throat open and inviting, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down as he swallows thickly. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right this second.

“It’s…complicated. Kind of,” he sighs as he stares up at the ceiling and you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it and that’s answer enough for you. You don’t push him further as you quietly turn his mouth to yours and make him forget anything and everyone but you.

“Come on Aus, it’ll be just like old times,” Cal goads drunkenly, placing a proprietary hand on Austin’s belly, his words laden with meaning and a hint of pleading. It’s not like he’s missed Austin or anything…not like that. Not that he’d admit anyway, hell no. Couldn’t two dudes have a consensual thing and not be weird about it? It must be liquid courage that made him suggest it aloud. That and the fact Austin keeps looking at him like he hung the damn moon.

“Swear you’ll shut up? If I say yes, will you just…chill?” Austin’s eyes are trained on you and it takes everything in him to play it cool, keep a calm head. Cal’s hand is still on Austin’s stomach and he starts to pet him, just above the belt and it makes Austin lurch in sudden need. He licks his lips, they’re suddenly parched, and swallows hard. He hears Cal snicker softly in his ear.

“Now, see, as I recall, you wouldn’t stop asking me to keep sayin’ shit last time.” Callum’s voice floats above the music, scratchy from gin and karaoke, hot breath tickling the shell of Austin’s ear. His hand moves to squeeze Austin’s neck, and if Austin didn’t know any better he’d swear it was a subconscious power move, Callum trying to literally bend Austin to his will. There’s an all too familiar twitch down Austin’s pant leg, and oh god he wishes- he thought, he was so sure, he was past that phase of responding like one of Pavlov’s dogs to Callum’s adoration and teasing.

Maybe it’s just the notion, his suggestion. That’s what’s suddenly making Austin’s blood feel hot and his eyes hazy, it’s the idea of her…and him! But mostly her, just her, and sharing her and- None of that explains the way he wants to bend to that firm hand squeezing in drunken cajoling at the base of his neck, makes him want to knock noses and yank at the stupid collar of Callum’s sweater until there’s collarbones to see and a draft under the wool. This is winter in Los Angeles, heating inside is state of the art, there’s no reason for such coziness and it’s making the man sweat and all Austin can think of from the smell is memories of an English summer, worn out and floating in his own body, biting down on Callum’s upper arm, tangy, sweaty flesh to keep an awfully strange escapade quiet.

That does it. What is he even thinking? He must’ve drank more than he realized but then, oh god, there Cal goes, throwing his hands up in defeat, shrugging his shoulders like a kid caught trying to push his luck. The arm around his shoulder is suddenly gone, and he’d give anything to have it back again. He shakes his head - he really must’ve had too much to drink. It was making him melancholy and sobering him up fast. Funny how alcohol will do that to you.

“Scouts honor, Butler, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll,” he seems to search the ceiling in drunken concentration for the correct wording most likely to open the doors to the kingdom, “I’ll be- it’ll be: HER, YOU and a um, uh mannequin. How ‘bout that, mate? Good enough for ya? You’d probably like that, wouldn’t ya? Ya little freak!” He lands a playful right hook to Austin’s jaw, hard knuckles digging into soft cheeks.

The usually inflammatory epithet of ‘freak’, coming as it does from a man begging for a threesome with himself and his girl, is nothing short of rabidly complementary. Callum’s shit-eating, triumphant grin could light up the whole damn room in this moment. He knows he’s got Austin right where he wants him and starts to count down silently in his head - three…two…

Austin finds himself grinning, a warning, measured thing but a condoning of the sentiment all the same.

“One,” Cal says out loud, his arm going back around Austin’s shoulders, squeezing so hard Austin winces a little. It’s a reflective motion then, done almost without thinking, when Austin slaps Callum’s thigh, not realizing there’s a boner bent down that trouser leg. A wounded hiss leaves Callum’s lips as he caves in on himself a little bit and Austin freezes, his face turning crimson and he feels another twitch down his own trousers.

“Steady on mate,” Callum coughs, shaking a leg, trying to discreetly readjust. “And I thought I was the eager beaver here.” Austin wants to wipe that smirk right off Callum’s smug little face but the moment their eyes meet they can’t help but start to laugh. Giggles, really, which turn into loud guffaws that has the whole bar turning to see what the commotion is about.

Your head whips around at the sound you’ve grown to know well over the past few weeks, the loud and boisterous laughter of two friends who seem forget that anyone else exists when they’re together. You spot them, huddled close as they always seem to be, and shake your head. A grin tugs at your lips and threatens to spill out the feelings fluttering around in your chest, no your stomach, no…somewhere else, lower. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about the two of them…together. Sometimes you’re with them, sometimes you’re not, in these little fantasies of yours. You catch yourself biting your lip and staring at them a little too longingly. You wonder what they’re saying now, both of them look flustered and awkward, just slightly. You can actually feel the tension rolling off of them in waves from where you stand across the bar.

Austin chooses that moment to look up and catch your eye. There’s a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there earlier and what is that look on his face? You’ve never seen it before…shy and almost…guilty? He looks just like a little boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Your eyes question him across the dim bar, an unspoken tether ties you together wherever you are, and uncertainty about the deal he’s just struck with Callum comes creeping in. What has gotten into him? He’s just agreed to share you, with another man. And not just any man, one he has a rather interesting history with. The thought of Callum touching you, kissing you, fucking you…suddenly he’s stone cold sober and beginning to regret letting Cal sway his decision. Because there sure as hell won’t be any take backs, not with Callum. He’s like a dog with a bone once he gets what he wants.

“Dude no, there’s chemical flavoring in there, that shit’s bad for you and it’ll give her irritation!” Austin looks slightly perturbed, not for the first time this evening. He sways slightly under the florecent lights of the drugstore, the constant buzzing adding to the pounding in his head.

“What if it’s not intended to go on her? Hmm? Thought of that Butler?” Callum murmurs under his breath, his eyes focused solely on the lube he’s holding, a pink blush creeping up his neck to his ears. Has a blush under drugstore fluorescents ever looked so lovely? And Austin hasn’t stopped biting that lower lip since you walked into this place. It hasn’t stopped him from grinning, though, his excitement bubbling through in little ticks and tells, the nervous turning over of the vaseline jar in his large hands.

“You haven’t even bought me dinner Cal, just straight to the flavored lube,” Austin bemoans, faking offense. “’Sides, she’s already sweet enough, aren’t you baby? I’ve had my fair share of licks,” Austin’s shoulder bumps yours as he sends you a smoldering look, his eyes flickering down your body briefly before his cheeks turn a slight rosy color you can see blooming up from his chest through his open shirt collar.

“Austin!” you hiss, slapping his arm playfully and hiding your face in his neck, embarrassed.

“Leave it to you two twig Bettie’s and we’d be down to nothin’ but socks and coconut oil,” Cal snarks, not at all inaccurately.

“I don’t remember you minding coconut oil last time,” Austin says under his breath, clearly meant for Callum’s ears only, but you manage to catch it, and your heart starts to pound at the implied meaning.

“Mmm, and it was bitter so - mojito,” Callum says decidedly, leaving no room for argument. Austin smiles at you, lifting his shoulder in a shrug and rolling his eyes heavenward. You giggle nervously, wondering for the first time just what you’re getting yourself into.

“I saw that! Listen mate, feel free to shut me up at any time. This would do nicely, ya reckon?” Callum lifts a silk sleeping mask with one, long finger and swings it around seductively, waggling his eyebrows up and down comically. You laugh and the butterflies making a home in your ribcage start to settle down again.

The whimpers emanating from between your parted lips take you by surprise and you promptly shut your mouth, unexpectedly embarrassed to be mewling so wantonly. You bite your lip as it becomes harder and harder to hold them in with every slow thrust of Austin’s velvety cock filling you, his swollen tip hitting just the right spot, and every flick of Callum’s tongue as he laves at your tender little clit with vigor. You feel Austin tense slightly beneath you as Cal swirls his tongue down to your opening to lap at where you and Austin join, sloppy and wet. A soft moan floats past your left ear, Austin’s hot breath sending a shiver through you, and it seems to invigorate Callum as he doubles down on his efforts to have his tongue cover as much surface area as possible. He chuckles and it jolts through you as your back arches, your fingers finding his dark curls and yanking him closer, demanding something you aren’t even aware of. He understands what you need even if you don’t and as his lips close around your sensitive bud you can no longer keep quiet, keening softly. You practically buck off of Austin’s lap and his arm tightens around your waist to keep you in place. The harder Callum sucks, the more Austin starts to whine - you’ve gotten so tight around him he can hardly thrust.

“Oh fuck, what’re you doing? Cal…what…” you slur as you pull at his hair, trying to dislodge him from your clit. You feel him grin against your heat as he slowly slips two fingers in you, resting them alongside Austin’s length. You hiss at the stretch and Austin starts to pick up his pace again. Your head is too hazy with pleasure to register fully what is happening as Callum gently slides another finger in next to the first two. His mouth works your clit, sucking and pulling, harder then soft again.

“More…more more more,” you beg hoarsely. You feel as if you might fly away and the only thing anchoring you to earth are these two men and their hands and their mouths on your body. Callum cocks an eyebrow at you and his eyes shift to Austin. You feel him nod, barely, and then another burning stretch as Cal slips his pinkie in next to his other fingers. It drives you insane and you feel yourself clenching and coming, harder than you can ever remember. You stop breathing for a moment, your mind going numb with rapture as you come apart at the seams.

“Oh fuck,” Austin whispers, biting your shoulder, his hand absentmindedly palming your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple. “Come on baby, I know you’ve got more, give us another one. Cal, can’t thrust with you in there…give me some room, huh?”

Callum let’s go of your clit with a wet pop and gently slides his fingers out. His nose and chin are shiny with your juices, even his eyebrows look a little damp and he’s grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on then, Butler, show us what you got.” He stands, knees popping as he does. From up here he can see your faces clearly, yours and Austin’s. He watches, rapt, as Austin nuzzles your neck, nipping at your earlobe as he speeds up his thrusts, toying with your nipples mercilessly. Your eyes flutter closed and your head drops back onto his shoulder. Callum shakes his head, dazed and pussy drunk - why was he on his knees so long?? He coulda been watching this the whole time? But he knows why- fresh, homegrown pussy. And he means to have his fill. He can’t take being on the sidelines, watching Austin move in and out of you at a punishing pace, having all the fun. One of Callum’s massive palms descends onto your clit, slapping and rubbing cruelly, back and forth, faster and faster. And then you’re gushing everywhere, all over Callum’s hand and Austin’s cock and the bed, soaking everything.

“Come on then girl, give us all you’ve got,” Cal encourages, his raspy voice driven to the point of hoarseness. He grabs his painfully hard, throbbing cock and roughly starts to slap your clit. You gasp, jerking in Austin’s arms as you fall apart again. And then Callum gets a thought, because his dick is doing most of the thinking just now, and it’s been sadly neglected thus far. He’s just had four fingers in you and now you’re literally flinging droplets with each swipe, it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet. He slows his slaps and starts to rub soft circles against your clit, stopping every once in a while to try your entrance gently, just to see. You moan breathlessly and his heart speeds up as he looks at Austin questioningly.

“I recognize that gleam in your eye, Turner…spit it out,” Austin says in a slightly strangled voice.

“Think you can take us both, angel? At the same time?” Callum directs his question to you, ignoring Austin.

You can’t take your poor abused clit getting ground on anymore, it’s just too intense, anything to give it a break. You nod your head so fast he thinks it might fly off. Your trembling little hand reaches down with disjointed begs of “Put it in baby, put it, please Cal, it’s burning.”

Your sloppy wet pussy hole visibly clenches with a tiny space of room left each time Austin digs in. Callum drunkenly wonders if they should have a medical professional on standby for this sorta shit, like it’s gotta be a crime to wedge two boys into a girl, especially when Butler’s packing like that. But your whine suggests you need it and he’d really like to not be left out. FOMO -that’s what he’ll blame when he’s driving the ambulance or else coming down from the craziest high he’s ever had with a pool of cum drying on his belly.

Austin goes still as a statue under you and drags your sweaty hair across to the other shoulder so he can really see your face and ask, “You sure? Baby, talk to me, you really wanna try?” His hand gently grips your chin, forcing you to focus on his eyes, his question.

“I’ll die if I don’t have you both,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper, but Austin still looks concerned and slightly perturbed. Is the girl he knows even in there? But you want something, you want this and he’ll be dammed if he doesn’t give you anything you want that’s within his power to give. And if there’s one thing he loves about you it’s your love of a challenge. He bites his cheek, trying not to blow his load over your sweet determination.

“Ok ok.” Austin takes a deep, steadying breath, kissing your wet temple and gives Callum a very familiar look of admonishment and also trust in his good intentions. “Careful, man, really careful,” he instructs as Callum nods his silent assent.

“No safe words, just if somebody says stop we stop, ok?” Austin’s starting to pant, as he can feel the poofy mushroom head of Cal’s cock brushing his sack at your entrance. “Anybody who says stop,” he clarifies, half thinking he might be the first to wimp out and do it.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Cal actually looks sober as fuck except for the sheen of sweat that always seems to come with his pints and somehow the eye contact he makes lights a fire in Austin’s belly.

“I might say no,” you squeak, “I won’t mean it though, just a heads up. I’ll say stop- if I need to stop.”

“No?” Cal laughs nervously. “That might make me feel a little…bad,” he admits, still rubbing maddening circles around where Austin’s been practically cockwarming you for ages.

“Stop getting all existential and give her what she wants, man,” Austin rebuts.

“It’ll make me feel bad if she says no,” Cal blurts, running a hand through his already messy hair.

“Then I’ll do it.” Austin’s voice is rough in your ear and your nipples harden into peaks as he gently pulls out of you and pats the bed. “Tell Cal to lay his big ass self down.”

You giggle as Callum dives onto the bed, bouncing for a moment until he settles, turning over onto his back, head propped on a lazy forearm. He pats his meaty thighs and you roll your eyes but can’t deny the flip flop your stomach does at the thought of those thighs and what a nice cradle they’ll make while you’re railed within an inch of you’re life. And then you’re hovering over him, Cal kneading your hip encouragingly while running an admiring hand up and down your spine, like you’re a skittish horse in need of calming. You hesitate, momentarily unsure, but Austin nods at you reassuringly from the foot of the bed and ever the gentleman, gives you his hands to hold as you sink slowly down on Callum. Though his gentlemanly hands are gripping yours tightly, his eyes are glued to your pussy taking every inch of uncut Brit cock that he’s maybe gagged on once.

“Earth to Butler!” comes from behind you because Austin’s zoned out a little and it’s been a hot minute and you’re somewhat situated now.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, ok, ok…”

Cal snickers before crunching up behind you, his chest hot against your back as he wraps his arms around you. “You feel lovely, darlin’, wanna lay back wif’ me? Don’t mind him, he’s lost it. Always goes a bit soft in the head around a pretty pussy or my cock.”

It’s a lot from this position and laying back against Callum’s chest is intense. You feel like he’s fully in your belly and it stretches your womb over him. He feels different…his isn’t as wet as Austin’s little water fountain but it throbs more noticeably, sending little shocks of pleasure through you. Cal pets your belly soothingly and spreads your pussy lips for Austin to really get a look at. You whine and squirm, realizing again the want for more. Those fingers dabbling at your entrance, threatening to push inside you once more and that’s when Austin breaks, recalling that’s what he and his cock are here for.

“Yeah, ok, ok, present and accounted for. Move your hand,” he murmurs, swiping Cal’s hand away. He thumbs at you himself for a bit, just to be sure and to watch as Cal loses his cool facade for a second when you clench tightly around him.

“Still sure about this, baby?” He asks one more time as he’s pressing at the ring and the burn has you bracing. You feel Cal’s hand move from your waist to your thigh, behind your knee, cupping it and dragging it wide, spreading you apart before you’ve even said your piece. The vote of confidence does you good and you take a deep breath, nodding once, decisively.

“Then put me in, angel,” Austin tells you, fat cockhead already snagged in but there’s a little ripple in his hard cock from the resistance of the tight space. Steeling yourself, you reach down and wrap your fingers around him, tugging him closer and slowly feeding his thickness into you alongside Cal’s, who starts thrashing his head and moaning at the drag like he’s the one getting breached.

“Good girl, good girl, please more…know you can take more.” Cal’s begging for cock by proxy and it alters your brain somehow. Austin’s too, he puts his hips into the effort and soon he’s gotten past the muscles at your command and into the threshold where you can’t manage to push him out if you tried. It makes you panic a little, but Cal is softly shushing in your ear, a distracting thumb stroking behind your knee, other freckled hand mauling a tit and begging you to take more cock so he can get friction.

“She can take it, come on, Austin,” he vouches for you, a little self promotion as you can’t even form words right now. Somewhere about six inches in your vocabulary consists of yelped little “fuck’s”and whimpering “I cant’s”.

Austin caresses your cheek, commanding you to look at him, his blue eyes focused in on yours, “That’s it baby, just a little more. You’re doing so good for us… such a good girl.”

Callum grab’s Austin’s shoulder and brings him fully deeper, which is all well and good when Austin kisses your forehead and insists raggedly, “You are doing it, baby.”

When he finally pushes in that last little bit, you lose any control you thought you had, instantly coming from the stretch and threatening to push Austin out. But he presses nothing less than his full weight on you, keeping you in place and himself snug inside next to Callum. You gasp for air and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. Austin tries to remember to breathe and promptly forgets how when he makes eye contact with Callum for the first time since being balls deep.

“Are you -is that you…twitching?”

“Woulda thought you’d remember that,” Callum smirks. “Coulda sworn I recall you saying something about it jumping like a live wire in your hand?”

“Christ, well it feels different all…snuggled up next to mine,” Austin grits out, coloring slightly.

After a moment or two, when breath has been regained and a few laughs shared and some semblance of sanity restored in right spaces, Cal starts to pepper every inch of your neck and cheeks in kisses. Now that he’s not so desperate he’s become utterly grateful for you, for this. The kisses turn into sloppy, wet groans in your ear as Austin begins to move and Cal’s hand is gripping your jaw, his eyes locked on Austin, your legs thrown wide over his thighs, spread to the max and he’s a perfect recliner. He throws his other arm across your chest in a loving armbar, holding you still on top of him, “So Butler can get a rhythm, baby.”

Austin looms above you both, finding his pace, measured and steady. His beautiful face is flushed full of awe and there’s a heat in his gaze you’ve never seen before. He puts his hand on Callum’s shoulder for leverage, long fingers digging into freckled flesh and Cal promptly lays a little smooch on Austin’s forearm with a cheeky grin. Austin’s eyes shift and change, become a deeper blue and an expression you can’t read flits across his face as he jabs a particularly hard thrust into you. Callum starts to whimper and squirm when he realizes Austin’s thrusts are rubbing him too well, and it's not just you who’s getting their spot hit - that spot being his foreskin being drug back and forth in maddening little drags.

“Y’all like that? Feel good?” Austin growls lowly, rhythmic thrusts pushing you and Callum deeper into the fluffy white sheets, both of your whimpers combining until you can’t tell who they belong to. Austin groans and drives in harder, his white knuckles gripping Callum’s shoulder hard, while he reserves his tenderest touch for you, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your cheek.

“You’re…enjoying this…” you manage to moan between thrusts. His face splits into a grin as he pushes all the way in, pausing for a moment to kiss you hard, all tongues and teeth and desperation.

“Oh, fuck mate, that’s so good. Oh my god,” Callum babbles. “Right there, fuck, right there. You feel so good.”

“Which one, baby girl? Me or her?” Austin smirks.

For once, Callum has no witty response except the heavy panting in your ear. He squeezes your waist harder and his fingernails indent your hip and it gives you something else to focus on while you catch your breath, a tiny escape from the mind-blowing ecstasy you feel and the slight alarm bells ringing in your head. You can feel Callum somehow expanding and growing inside of you, even bigger than he was before. Austin’s eyes go wide and a look of panic crosses his face - his perfect pink mouth forms a perfect “o”.

“Oh shit, what…why is everything so fucking tight again…what is happening,” Austin groans breathlessly, his mouth set in a determined line, teeth ground together so hard you worry momentarily he might break a tooth. He tightens his grip on Callum’s shoulder and Cal’s massive hand encircles Austin’s delicate wrist, knuckles white as he holds on for dear life.

“Faster…faster,” Cal begs, again and again. “Sorry no, mate it’s, it’s fuckin’ happenin’…oh fuck.” His head cranes forward and you can feel his belly and hips flexing beneath you as he tenses over and over, letting out a hoarse sort of howl as he comes. His warmth fills you and it shakes something loose in your head, your own stomach starting to clench as you grab a handful of Austin’s golden hair, urging him on. Callum’s hands are all over you, petting you everywhere as he starts to come down.

“S’ok I came in ya? Yeah? Good, ‘cause I did,” he whispers hoarsely with a remorseful little laugh, back to babbling to you now that Austin’s got him there. He wipes the sweaty hair from your forehead, tucking a piece of it behind your ear and kisses your neck, whispering encouraging words, “That’s it, babe, give us another one.”

Cal’s bitten off little whimpers spur you on, as his soft cock is trapped in there too, getting pummeled. He’s trying to focus on you, with little pets and murmurs of encouragement but you feel his jaw clench as he grits his teeth, taking the pounding Austin is giving the both of you.

“Got me feelin’ like a proper woman, squealin’ n’ shit, Aus.”

You feel another orgasm build and shake through you, one of the many countless times you’ve fallen apart tonight, but this one stands out. It would bring you to your knees if you were unlucky enough to be standing at this moment. You’re sure it has something to do with knowing you’re satisfying two men at once, Callum having found his release and Austin being close to his. You can tell he’s on the verge by the little signs you’ve grown to recognize over the course of your relationship. The way his forehead creases in between his brows - you’ve kissed it away a dozen times in the heat of the moment. The way his pulse beats on the side of his neck, his vein there popping out and becoming more prominent. The short little huffs of breath he inhales, in quick succession - one, two, three, bam, bam, bam, like three shots straight to your heart. It’s your turn to take care of him, the last one standing after he made sure you and Cal got yours.

“Your turn, baby,” you whisper, pulling his forehead down to meet yours, thumbing at the hollows of his cheeks as he begins to tremble and his thrusts turn sloppy. He kisses you again, sucking on your tongue before moving to latch onto your neck. Cal wraps a hand around Austin’s throat, pushing his head back and squeezing just enough for his eyes to widen and his mouth to pop open. His blue eyes darken and you think he’s going to put his mouth on you again, but he bypasses you and goes straight for Callum’s collarbone, his perfect, white teeth sinking into Callum’s lovely English skin and biting down, hard. Cal yelps but doesn’t let go of Austin’s neck, and that’s when you feel it, your belly filled with warmth again as Austin pulses and twitches inside you, a stuttered moan muffled into the crook of Callum’s shoulder. He collapses on top of you and Callum, completely and utterly spent, the three of you breathing heavily and unable to move for a few moments. You squirm a tiny bit, trying to take a deep breath with one man plastered to your front and another to your back.

Austin gets the hint and lifts himself back up on shaky arms, slipping out of you with a squelch. You gasp one final time, at the sudden loss of him, and a cold emptiness is left where he once filled you to the brim, almost to breaking. The coldness is replaced quickly by a gushing warmth spilling out of you. You feel Callum suck in a breath, his broad chest expanding beneath you, his right arm still wrapped tightly around your chest.

“Christ, it’s running down my balls,” he wheezes out, taking another shuddering breath.

Austin braces himself against the headboard and slowly disentangles himself, flopping limply beside you on the bed. He looks at you and Cal still entwined, his eyes moving from both of your faces flushed with heat, down to Callum’s arm still tightly wrapped around you, one large, meaty hand gripping your breast, his middle finger absentmindedly pressing the sensitive bud of your nipple down. Austin sucks in breath after breath, and his eyes travel lower, to your legs still splayed wide over Callum’s sturdy thighs, his softening cock still nestled deep inside you, the spend of both men slowly dripping out of you. A sudden flash of possessiveness roars through him - for you, for Callum. For the sacred thing he has with both of you. His face goes numb and his ears start to ring. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.

“What is it, Aus?” you whisper, stretching out a hand to him. He looks forlorn, alone on the other side of the bed, his vulnerable face a mix of emotions crashing together all at once, lost and unsure, the gravity of everything settling on his shoulders like a blanket.

“Come back to us.” Your fingertips barely reach to brush his bronzed chest, the little blonde hairs soft against your skin. “Please.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and crawls back over, wrapping his arms around you both and collapsing on top of you again. You’re hilariously squished in the middle of a bear hug now, both men squeezing with all their might, a strange show of masculinity to mask true feelings.

“I can’t breathe….” you manage between giggles. Callum lets out a soft chuckle in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek as his arm shifts beneath you. He digs his fingers into Austin’s armpit and wiggles them around none too gently. Austin bucks against you and squeaks out an uncharacteristically high laugh, trying to squirm out of Cal’s grasp, but it’s too strong and Austin’s body feels like jelly just now.

“Hey! Hey hey, no fair…you know I hate… being… tickled…” Austin grunts out, trying desperately to writhe out of this strange embrace.

Bright, cheerful sunshine spills onto the hotel room floor and across the bed, where it has no right to be at this ungodly hour. It shines in unabashedly, through drapes you forgot to close properly in all of your horny desperation. A little sliver of verdant green Hollywood hills is the only signal from the outside world. In here, somewhere between sleeping and waking, in that hazy early morning dreamland, you register Austin tucked up close behind you, his knees pushing the backs of yours and his warm, heavy arm slung over your waist. This is how you wake up every morning and you scoot your bottom back, into the cradle of his hips, momentarily unaware of the pulverization of your insides. But scenes from last night play out like a clip reel inside your head almost as soon as you’re conscious. You squeeze your eyes tight, refusing to give the sun its due. You stretch your legs gingerly, wiggling your toes against Austin’s, and take stock of things. There’s the obvious ache between your legs - more of a throbbing fire, if the truth is to be told. Your nipples seem to remember the previous evening’s activities as well because they immediately harden and stand at attention. And you can’t feel them yet but you’re pretty sure you have a few bruises, too. Ah well, you think as you yawn lazily, that’s what makeup is for.

You blink one eye open (it’s so bright in here!) and the first thing you encounter is a massive arm right next to your nose, tiny, golden hairs glinting in the sunlight. The second thing you see is Cal, on his belly and sans sheets or clothes, his lush and muscular bottom swelling above the white duvet beneath him. His adorable face is pressed into the pillow next to yours, dark curls swirling across his forehead and day’s worth of stubble dots his jaw. He feels your eyes on him, he’s only been snoozing for a bit, waiting for you two to wake up. He cracks one bright, blue eye open and stares back at you a moment. He senses a rush of what he feels everytime he sees you but this time it’s magnified by endearment and gratitude. Then, his face lights up, still smushed into the pillow and a massive, squinty grin splits his face. Your heart gives a funny little leap inside your chest and you find that your fingers are caressing his cheek softly, of their own volition and you resist the urge to kiss the little freckle under his mouth. He grabs your hand and kisses your fingertips, holding them to his warm lips as he smiles. And suddenly, any worry about things being weird has evaporated, as has any possibility of him being a third wheel. He just belongs.

“Hey! Quit making goo-goo eyes at my girl.” Austin’s gravelly morning voice rumbles from behind you playfully, and quick as lightning the arm still draped around your waist reaches over and smacks Callum’s ass, hard. The slap echoes around the room and you see the pale flesh of his bottom bounce and reverberate with the force of it. Cal, and his red, pillow creased face, jolts forward, yelling and jerking in the sheets, which in turn rubs his raw cock. This causes a chain reaction of events which results in him immediately pulling a sore muscle and flopping back down on the bed, moaning and rubbing his reddening backside.

“No fair, bruv,” he groans into the pillow. “That was too fuckin’ close to my balls.”

Austin chuckles and swats your ass gently for good measure. Slowly, everyone starts to shift and stir. First there are whines about soreness and muscles. Then about how sticky it all is. Then about who’s gonna order room service - but more pressingly, who’s gonna walk to the mini bar and grab a water. And then there’s an argument about who’s voice is less hoarse to call for the food - this ends up being you, hilariously. Then there’s moaning arguments about who is intact enough to wobble to the door and tip the server. In between massive amounts of doting and fretting over you, obviously. The boys are ever attentive, fluffing your pillows and making sure you’re comfortable while they feed you omelets and sausage and pancakes until your energy is restored. Over breakfast in bed, the arguments continue about who’s more bruised up - there’s a nasty bite mark on Cal’s collarbone but the fingerprints around Austin’s neck are a fair rival. There’s a panicked and very male discussion about emergency rooms when you admit you can barely move. But you manage to convince them that a nice, hot soak in the tub would do you wonders right about now. So Austin goes to draw you a bath while Callum helps you out of bed, wrapping a protective arm around your waist, and guiding you to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later you’re starting to feel somewhat restored and a little more like yourself. The boys take turns showering, getting ready for the screening event later today. They go about it quietly though, almost reverently, leaving you to relax in peace. You turn the hot water on again, you’ve soaked so long it’s turning tepid but you’re not ready to relinquish this luxury. You ask Austin to bring you your makeup kit, eying the marks on both of them that need covering up. First Austin, then Callum, one after the other they kneel beside the tub in only their dress pants, chest and feet still bare. There are bruises and hickies and bite marks on clavicles and necks and wrists. Poor Callum, with his delicate, reactionary British skin has what looks like beard burn over half his chest and up the side of his throat. You turn sideways in the fancy clawfoot bathtub, gingerly dabbing concealer here and there, doing the best you can to cover up any evidence of last night's revels. Austin sits patiently, a towel underneath his knees to buffer the hard tile floor, and watches you with his kind, enigmatic ocean eyes. They’re distracting, those eyes, as they watch your face, every blink and every smile.

“What is it, Aus? Something on your mind?” you finally murmur, unable to take such naked contemplation any longer.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” He smooths the hair back from your forehead, rubbing a silky piece between his fingers. “I’m so lucky.”

Callum slouches against the doorway and lets out a quiet hum. “I think you mean we’re lucky, mate. The three of us.”

Tagging some Austin & Callum lovers I know: @jelliedonut @crazymadpassionatelove @elvisabutler @slowsweetlove @stylespresleyhearted @steph-speaks @blurredcolour @pearlparty

#austin butler #callum turner #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner smut #Callum Turner fic #callum turner imagine #the three of us #marina does it again #written by ab4eva

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

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I am in LOVE with your Austin/ Callum threesome and mota stuff (actually everything if I think about it)

Can't wait to read more of your future writings ✨️

Thank you, my lovey! Oh what a sweet note! I think this is the first ask I’ve ever gotten in my own inbox to mention The Three of Us -sorry it took me a couple days to dig down in the inbox- and let me just tell you it sent me into a gleeful little tizzy because!!!!aaaah, I am just so glad you liked it and I enjoyed helping write it immensely.

By way of a little thank you in return, here’s a tiny snippet of Part 2, in the works as @ab4eva and I tandem knit it 🥰

“How does that correlate to being dommed, Aus? Huh? How?” there’s an outraged disbelief in Cal’s tone that almost outweighs the high pitched -although mild -panic seeping through. Never unsure ever, at least that you’ve seen him, until Austin Butler interprets him some such way and then this big tough man is a flailing and defensive windmill of arms and definitions.

“You’re literally so happy to see me, everyone here can see your tail wagging, that’s how,” Austin says smoothly out of the side of his mouth, an almost bored tone permeating his inflammatory words.

“Ah see, now, I’m offended mate, here I am missing my friend, showing it -and I get called a furry. You into that now?” Callum ribs goodnaturedly.

“Wouldn’t say no to you on Halloween just ‘cause you were wearing a pair of ears,” Austin admits with a suppressed grin, and already in full contestant mode, it takes Callum a brief minute to close his mouth and realize he just won a victory himself here.

“Now that’s the kinda way to make a fella feel special, Austin. That and loaning me your cable to watch the game later. That would do it.”

“Oh I’ll make you feel special, Cal, just not in front of Steven Spielberg,” Austin murmurs as the man himself approaches to shake their hands.

#blurbs #sneak peaks #the three of us #Austin butler #callum turner #Austin butler x Callum Turner x reader #austin butler fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #love notes

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crimson-calligraphyx · 3 months

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @halloweenaesthetic

A/N: gore in minor detail.

The sound of Leora's laughter and the pitter-patter of her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor filled the air as she zoomed around the living room. My eyelids were heavy while I watched her and Noah chase each other around, and I wanted nothing more than to take a nap due to the inadequate sleep I'd been getting, but I couldn't look away. The moment was too pure, and it filled me with such joy seeing how well they got along.

"Man, I'm getting tired just looking at them." Nick joins me on the couch, offering me a fresh cup of coffee. "Mmm, tell me about it," I chuckled, accepting the mug with a smile. "Glad it's him and not me, with my busted leg and all." He laughs. "How are you feeling this morning?" "Tired, stiff," I shrug. He concurs with a hum and a slow nod of his head.

After some time, Leora dragged Noah down to the coffee table and pulled out her coloring book. He glances over at me, and there's a look on his face that says 'Thank God' as he catches his breath. I smirked knowingly, sending him a wink as she shoved a blank outline she had ripped from her book in front of him. Welcome to parenthood.

I smiled into my sip of coffee while I watched them begin to color, her picking out what shades for him to use. He feigns annoyance with a scoff and roll of his eye, but grins shortly after and takes the markers she offered.

"You're really bad at this," Leora tells him. "What?" he puts his marker down on the table and looks over at her with an exasperated gasp. "Your coloring is so streaky!" He glances down at his page and pouts, folding his arms over his chest. "It's not my fault; you gave me dried-out markers." I couldn't help the laugh from bubbling out of me as they exchanged their sass, Nick standing from his seat when a knock sounded at the door.

My smile falters when I see Leora drop the marker she had in her hand, fear washing over her features as she cowers behind Noah. I furrowed my brows, my mouth opening to ask her what was wrong until I heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach when I turn my head to look behind me, now staring at Officer DeCecca and Detective Garcia.

This couldn't be good.

"Good morning," Officer DeCecca greets us with a clearing of his throat. "I hope we're not intruding on anything." "Uhm," I swallowed harshly and placed my mug on the coffee table. "No, not exactly. What brings you here?" My fingers began to absentmindedly pick at the skin around my nails. "We have some more information regarding your case that we thought you should know about," Garcia tells us, holding up a manilla folder.

I turn back towards Noah, my wariness being met with his face of stone. I know that this is what he wanted.

He gave me a quick nod before whispering something to Leora, having her bounce out of the living room and into the kitchen where my parents were. Nick follows suit, and the officers take a seat in the armchairs across from me as Noah joins me on the couch.

"Some of this may be hard to look at, so I advise that you proceed with caution," Garcia says, putting the folder on the table and nodding towards it. "After our team searched Charles' property, this is what we found. Needless to say, we think we found his missing wife and two children."

My heart was in my throat as I stared at the file, my nails digging into my skin relentlessly, and Noah put his hand over mine to hinder my nervous tick. "I can look first, if you want," he says quietly, his thumb rubbing the top of my wrist. I pry my eyes away from the folder and turn to look at him. His demeanor was calm, his dark eyes soft as they searched for confirmation in mine. I nodded shallowly and he gave my hands a firm squeeze before reaching for the file.

I avert my attention elsewhere as he opens it, but I see him stiffen in my peripheral. He flips through the contents slowly, puffing out a breath when he finishes, and puts it down on his lap.

"Is it bad?" I asked quietly, taking note of how tight his fingers were gripping the folder. He bobs his head slowly. "Yeah," his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. "It's...it's bad." "Can I see?" I blurted out without really thinking, curiosity taking over. Noah locks eyes with me, a mixed expression of hesitancy and shock strewn across his face. "Are you sure? It's pretty gruesome."

I took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. Was I sure? Would the contents in the folder make my trauma worse, or would it give me the closure I needed to help my recovery progress further? I figured it couldn't be much worse than watching Noah take the life of our captor right in front of me.

"I'm sure," I nod. Noah mutters a quiet 'okay', reluctantly handing over the file. It felt like a hundred pounds, and it was suddenly the most menacing thing in existence as my hands shook while I held it.

The first thing that I saw upon opening it was the last scene I remember witnessing while trapped in that prison: Charles' lifeless body. The same agonized expression, the same head of the pickaxe lodged in his eye socket, the same trail of crimson running down his pale face, the same blood spatter on and around his body.

I could hear that harrowing scream and the squelching of his flesh as Noah drove the tool into his eye. I could smell the iron in Charles' blood as it poured from the wound, and I could feel the warmth of it as it splattered across my face.

My stomach was churning at the familiar image; I closed my eyes and took a staggering breath in, trying to calm it, and mustered up the courage to flip the page. When I did, I wasn't quite sure what I was looking at.

There was an oil drum that looked to be sealed tight inside a room that I didn't recognize. The floor was covered in hay, and the wall behind it appeared to be made from planks of wood—a barn. I shook my head in perplexity, not understanding how this was significant to the case, and turned to the next page.

The lid was now missing, and inside the drum was a hazy, coffee-colored liquid with something right below the surface. I squinted, bringing the picture closer to my face, but I still couldn't make out what was inside the barrel. Noah clears his throat, and I lower the folder to look over at him. "Next page. I'm warning you now, Amelia, it's a lot to take in."

I nodded shallowly, cautiously turning to the next photo. My stomach twisted painfully when I registered what I was looking at, and I dropped the folder to cover my mouth in shock and disgust. The papers scattered about, and the officers scrambled to pick them up as Noah pulled me into his embrace. He cradled my head against his chest while I screamed in horror, trying his best to quiet me down.

It was a body. A very badly decayed body. Skeletal remains.

I didn't have to ask questions to know that that was Alice, and yet they continued to fill me in with details I didn't ask for. Details on how they pulled Alice's dental records and were able to match the teeth to her bite impression, how they were able to determine that she died from blunt force trauma from the fracture on the skull.

Details on how Charles used quicklime to decompose her body, how her body had been in there for at least two years. Details on how they did the exact same examinations when they found another barrel with both of his children crammed into it, their bodies bent in the most inhumane ways.

They filled me with so many details that I was simply numb by the time they had left. I didn't talk when spoken to, and I didn't eat when given food. I just couldn't. I had no desire to, and I felt nothing but shame when I refused to play with Leora and instead went to bed.

I hated seeing her smile falter, the disappointment radiating from her little body. I hated seeing the wariness on my family and Noah's faces as I hobbled my way to my bedroom, but I needed to process.

I woke up screaming every single day since.

I guess processing meant having nightmares and reliving the trauma I endured during those six weeks. Instead of my other dreams where I was running to the beacon of light thinking it was my escape, only for it to be Charles, I ran into a barn time and time again.

There was always a wall of barrels in front of me, and behind them I could see ribbons of light peeking through the paneling—I knew it was another door to freedom. Each time I would run straight into the barrels, hoping to push right through them, but they were always full. They’d topple over, the lids bursting open, and the contents pouring out.

Murky, brown fluid. Chunks of flesh. Bones.

And that’s usually when I’d wake up screaming, but this nightmare was different. Charles had grabbed me, and no matter how hard I thrashed in his arms to break free, I couldn’t. Everything was in slow motion as he opened one of the drums that hadn’t fallen over and threw me in it face first.

Tears are now rolling down my cheeks and I’m sitting up in bed, gasping painfully as I tried to recoup when my bedroom door barges open. I shrieked, scrambling towards the far end of my bed and clutched my blankets to my heaving chest.

“It’s just me, Meels,” Noah’s sleep-riddled voice fills my room. “You were screaming again. You okay?” He asks dejectedly. I puffed out a large breath of air, hanging my head in my hand. I hear the door click shut, the mattress dipping shortly thereafter as he takes a seat next to me. “No,” I choked out; my heart was in my throat. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “Do you want to talk about it?” “No,” I whispered. “I just… I need this to stop. A-and I don’t know what will make it stop.” He doesn’t say anything, only places a hand on my shoulder and gives me a squeeze.

I wasn't sure how long we sat here in silence, but he didn't make any indication of leaving. Not even after the tears stopped or when my breathing evened out. Not even when I finally laid back down with an exhausted huff and shut my eyes. Not even when I rolled onto my side facing away from him and settled into the mattress.

All he did was rub my shoulder gently, and the smallest of smiles began to curl on my lips from the warmth of his hand. And as I began to fall back under, I felt the heat on my shoulder spread to my back with an added weight on my side.

There's a light pressure against my back, and it moves in gentle waves. The weight on my side tightens, and my smile grows ever-so-slightly when I hear a quiet sigh behind me, followed by a barely audible 'sleep tight'.

I realize it's Noah embracing me from behind, and I thought for a split second that we shouldn't be doing this. That this wasn't right, and that he should go back to the spare bedroom. But then I thought about how much comfort this brought me and how, in all reality, innocent this was.

And when I woke up the next morning without screaming or crying, I realized how much I really needed it.

|Chapter 16|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #bad omens #romance #The three of us #noah sebastian fanfic #second chance romance #enemies to lovers

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companionjones · 2 years

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The Three of Us

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson

Fandom: Stranger Things

Summary: This takes place during the walk to Nancy’s house in the Upside Down during season 4 of Stranger Things. You and Steve, who have been dating for almost a year, get a chance to ask Eddie Munson a very important question.

Warnings: None that I can think of, this takes place in the Upside Down

*******

“I can’t believe you guys have been dealing with this stuff for three years...” Eddie shivered as you, him, and Steve trudged through the Upside Down. Robin and Nancy lead the way a few yards ahead.

You shrugged, “Well, it’s been on and off, but pretty much, yeah.”

He shook his head. “Damn. I don’t know how you guys do it. I only found out about Vecna and everything a few days ago, and I’ve been a wreck.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit,” Steve cut off in a firm voice. “You’ve seen violent deaths in front of you, and you’ve been accused of being a demonic serial killer. None of us have had to deal with any of that shit.”

“Yeah, the deaths that we’ve seen were no where near as bad as Chrissy and Patrick,” you confirmed. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

Eddie shuddered, thinking back to the traumatic events.

“And you’re no pussy, man,” continued Steve, “I was in trouble back there, and you were right behind Y/n, saving my ass.”

Munson shook his head. “I legit don’t know what got into me. It was bad enough you jumping in, and with how long you were down there--and Y/n too? I mean, Y/n, I know why you went after him. You two are together and everything...but I just...I couldn’t take it.”

You and Steve exchanged looks. You shared, “Yeah. We know the feeling.” You and Steve continued to have a silent conversation. Both of you were thinking the same thing.

“Are-uh-are you two okay?” Eddie asked, starting to sweat.

“Yeah, we’re good,” you smiled. “We were just wondering...Have you ever been in a triad, Eddie?”

For a moment, Eddie’s eyes went as big as saucers. “What? I-uh-uh-don’t even know what that is...”

You quirked an eyebrow at the boy with whom you’d been playing D&D for years. “Really? Because last campaign, the Sorrysons were something pretty close to--”

Eddie cringed, “Okay! Okay, so I know what it is. It doesn’t mean I’ve ever been in one.”

“That’s fine,” you shrugged, “Me and Steve are asking you if you’d like to start one with us.”

“WHAT?!” Eddie shrieked so loud that Nancy and Robin turned around to see what had sparked the ridiculous sound.

It was complicated enough having this conversation with Eddie, you weren’t about to notify the girls just yet. “All good!” you told them, while shooting them a double-thumbs-up.

Steve confirmed for Eddie. “Come on, dude. It’s not that hard. We’re asking you to get in on our relationship.”

“I know that,” Eddie blanched. “I just--I’m just--trying to process...W-Why me? You two are perfect for each other.” His insecurities snuck in.

Again, you and Steve shared a look.

“I wouldn’t call it perfect,” you started.

Steve explained, Ever since we got together, we’ve been happy, but--I don’t know--It just feels like something’s missing.”

“We think that something is you, Eddie,” you revealed.

Steve continued, “We’ve both had our eyes on you for years, even before we started dating.”

“We both really like you,” you finished, as smile gracing your cheeks.

At that point, Eddie’s cheeks were as red as tomatoes. “I...really like you guys, too.”

“So, what do you say, Munson?” asked Steve, “You want to give this thing a try?”

Eddie scoffed, “Trust me, I would love to, but we still have to kill Vecna, find our way out of here, and clear my name.” His voice was sarcastically pessimistic.

“We’ll figure that stuff out. We always do,” you brushed off. “But Steve and I learned when we started seeing each other that our lives are always going to be strange.”

“It’s better to stop waiting ‘til it’s over, and just start living in it,” Steve completed.

Eddie nodded, “Okay. So, I guess we’re doing this.”

“The three of us?” You offered an arm to each of your boys.

Steve gladly took it. “The three of us.”

Eddie took your other hand, and your little triad continued on to Nancy’s house. Eddie smiled to himself. “The three of us.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, you should check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steddie #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #stranger things #joseph quinn #joe keery #companion jones #the three of us

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qkonv · 1 year

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The Three of Us

#streetlight manifesto #tomas kalnoky #the hands that thieve #the three of us #the hand that thieves #i guess #love you mwah

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eddsworldbish420 · 2 months

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THE THREE OF THEM

#the three of them #the three of us #dhmis #dont hug me im scared

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lapisvoiddragon · 1 year

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I finally caved and drew red guy in a suit 💀🤞🤞

#art #digital art #dont hug me im scared #dhmis duck guy #dhmis fanart #fypage #yellow guy dhmis #robin dhmis #manny dhmis #harry dhmis #dhmisyellowguy #dhmis #dhmis red guy #dhmis tv show #dhmis harry #the three of us #donthugmescaredfanart #donthugmeimscared2022 #art dump

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sagittariusdarkarrow · 1 year

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The bold of Guardian x DMBJ is getting bolder

@dual-domination @tazzy-ace about certain “Week” yet to come in 2023, I’m in. If I have a plot? Probably (When do I not?) If I’m going to write alone is a mystery (probably not), but with Hyde’s ramblings about Shen Wei and arts, that’s what I got, if you both know what I mean. The annoying Victorian Pirate may be invited.

Probably also, the DMBJ fandom will be massively participating in this event, I can't wait to see it.

With Ben Harper’s The Three of Us as Soundtrack.

youtube

#The Three of Us #more of it #guardian x dmbj crossover #weilan #wu xie #shen wei #zhao yunlan #not tagging the event yet #but the spoilers are here #hyde won't make me write this alone so he might be prepared to be the main writer here #i have no mercy #this is family business

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thethreeofuslol · 2 years

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Ooooh, looks like The three of us are streaming… lol

Come join us in our retrial of doors again xD

Here, we will attempt to reach the 100th door… (emphasize on attempt)

See you there!

twitch_live

#livestream #twitch #streamer #twitch stream #twitch streaming #twitchstreamer #roblox #roblox doors #roblox horror #doors roblox #doors #TToU #The Three of Us

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pastart · 4 months

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Richard Kranzin (2023)

#The Three Of Us #Richard Kranzin #2023

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ab4eva · 27 days

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I want to be tagged in The Three of Us too can i? 🙏🏾You two won my heart and my loyalty with this one

Screaming, babe! This is so kind, thank you so so much! 💗 and adding you to the tag list! Cc: @precious-little-scoundrel

#dearest wildfll0wer!#ab4eva answers #the three of us #austin butler #callum turner

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

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“it’s a goddamn swamp down there it’s so wet.” Gave me SUCH bucky vibes, like i can hear callum’s “goddamn” in that little american accent and it’s driving me crazy.

This tickled me so much because oh Nonnie -I love trying to say and think lines out in that accent because it was a masterpiece!!! So nuanced and so very period accurate and SO HOT.

Now you’ve got me thinking about Cal and what if…hear me out…what if sometimes, especially around Austin sometimes he still thinks In Bucky as it were? Especially maybe, when thinking with his uh, smaller head???

Yeah I just theorized Callum’s cock talks in affected 1930’s Runyon dialect. 🌚🤭

@ab4eva you need in on this too

#‘you heard me the first goddamn time Gale’#the three of us #callum turner #john egan

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crimson-calligraphyx · 5 months

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Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @halloweenaesthetic

A/N: hi hello I'm so sorry that I haven't updated this in a million years. I lost steam for it, but I thiiink I might have gotten the gears turning again. I hope y'all enjoy and don't hate me too much 🤭

Charles DeSimone has been wanted for quite some time under suspicion of murdering his wife and two children.

My blood ran cold and I swear my heart stopped beating the second those words registered in my head. I didn't know how to respond as I stared at Officer DeCecca; I simply waited to see if he would take his statement back. He had to have been kidding.

I swallowed, trying to moisten my throat that suddenly felt like sandpaper. "What?" I croaked. "This was a case that went cold a few years back," Detective Garcia spoke this time. "We couldn't gather enough evidence to convict him—he was one calculated, sly motherfucker. Always had an alibi, his home was always pristine when we asked to search it. It was like his wife and kids simply disappeared without a trace."

All I could do was blink as I mulled over his words. How could Charles possibly cover that up so well? How was his family never found?

"Where do we go from here?" Noah asks when I remained silent. DeCecca clears his throat quietly. "Well, right now, you two need to focus on getting back into good health. Especially you, Amelia." "So, you're just gonna leave us with that? No other information?" Noah questions, aggravation in his tone. The officer huffs, "We don't have much to give you at the moment. We have a team searching his property, and we will give you more details as it comes."

I watched Noah's jaw tick. He was angry, and I knew he wasn't satisfied with that answer, but we just had to accept it for now. They can't tell us what they don't know.

The officers leave, but I still don't say a word. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do with the little information that we got. It was confirmation of the fact that Noah and I were going to die there if we hadn't escaped. We were so close to death—in Death's hand all because some schizophrenic man saw me while we were out innocently grabbing kerosene and thought I was his wife.

His wife that he had murdered.

I flinched when someone puts their hand on my shoulder, letting out a quick yelp before pushing it off immediately. "Shit, sorry, Meels. I didn't mean to startle you." It was Nick. "Looked like we lost you for a second there. You okay?" I scrubbed my hands down my face and sighed heavily, shaking my head. "It's just...a lot to take in," I mumbled. "I know," he cautiously puts his hand on my back this time, rubbing slow circles to help soothe me. "We'll be here for you through all of this, though. You know that, right?"

I nodded, lying back against my pillow and shutting my eyes. I just wanted to sleep; I didn't want to think about any of this. I didn't want to see the sorrow or the sympathy on everyone's faces while I lie here confined to a hospital bed.

My life was flipped upside down and turned into a living nightmare just from going to a hardware store one afternoon, and I wished that everything would go back to the way it was 6 weeks ago.

But there was no going back, only forward, and I was terrified of what my future held.

I was running. I didn't know where I was running, but I knew I had to keep going no matter how tired my legs grew. I just had to get away.

I looked over my shoulder; there's a decrepit house behind me, and something is telling me I need to be as far away from it as possible. I can hear the paneling moaning as the body flexes, the house calling for me to come back, and the back door swings wide open. My heart rate triples as alarm settles in, and I kept on running, looking forward again.

The woods in front of me are dark and grim, foreboding even, but it felt safer than the building I was running from. The shadows swallow me whole, the decaying trees creaking as their limbs begin to lock into one another, gating me in. Yet I still felt a sense of security now that I can't physically see the house.

There's a beacon of light up ahead, and I knew that I had to get to it. I knew that that was where my safe haven was. My legs picked up in speed while a smile breaks out across my face, happy that I discovered my solace. The light grows brighter; I threw my hand out, only fingertips away from it.

I suddenly can't breathe, and I'm writhing on the ground in agony from how hard I fell. My face hurts, but it's not bleeding when I touch it. My leg is bleeding, though—I can feel the warmth trickling down my ankle as fire licked across my skin.

There’s a bear trap biting into my leg, and I can’t do anything but scream in agony. The jaws were painted crimson, my blood pouring out in ribbons, flooding around me. I’m panicking, trying to release its hold on me, but I can’t focus. I can’t breathe. All I can do is scream and cry.

Leaves crunch in front of me, the beacon is now shining right in my eye. There’s a figure behind the light—it’s a flashlight. I can’t see the figure, but it’s menacing as it crouches in front of me. My heart is beating out of my chest when a gloved hand reaches out, and I knew that this was my demise.

“No! Get the fuck away from me!” I hollered, shoving that menacing figure away from me. They fall to the ground in a heap, bringing something down with them in a loud crash. My eyes fly open, and I’m not in the woods anymore. I’m in the hospital bed that I’ve been lying in for weeks now, and I know that I’ve pushed a nurse to the ground for the umpteenth time.

“I’m so sorry,” I cry out, burying my face in my hands. I hated this. I felt like a menace myself every time I woke up from the nightmare that keeps plaguing me, because I always end up hurting someone. I don’t mean to, though, and it was humiliating having no control over my actions.

The nurse picks herself up, rubbing her elbow with a sympathetic grin. She tells me it’s okay, but I know it’s not. I hurt her again when she was only trying to do her job. I just wanted the medication to make the nightmares stop once and for all, so that I could stop hurting people around me. Thank God they won't let Leora see me unless I'm already conscious; I don't think I could live with myself if I ever did that to her.

She takes care of the dressings on my leg, changing them out for new ones, and takes my vitals after putting the brace back on my leg. Other than my outburst, everything seemed okay with me. My incision from surgery was healing well, and they think I'll be able to be discharged within the next week or two.

I was both relieved and scared to go home—it was going to be a huge adjustment for both me and my family, physically and mentally. They would be helping me with simple, mundane tasks until the physical therapist deemed I was strong enough to do them on my own. They would have to deal with the nightmares indefinitely, who knows how long they'll continue to occur. It could be years before they stop, or they may not even stop.

Breakfast was wheeled in, and my nurse left shortly after. I wasn't excited for the bland scrambled eggs, chewy bacon, and scorched toast, but my stomach growls once I got a whiff of it. I readjusted the bed so I'm sitting up, snagging a piece of bacon and nibbling on it just as there's a knock at the doorway.

I flashed a small smile at Noah when he makes his way in, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his new jeans. He pulls the chair up beside me and plops down in it with a tired sigh, stretching his legs out. "Want some breakfast?" I offer him a piece of bacon, giggling at the face he pulls. "I'm good, thanks. I've had my fill of hospital food," he chuckles, waving me off. "How are you doing?"

Noah had been discharged only a few days after we were admitted since his injuries were so minor, the main concern being dehydration. And even though he didn't have to, he'd occasionally make his way up to visit me. I don't know if it was guilt that he was able to leave while I wasn't, or maybe he knew deep down that I was petrified of being alone. Either way, it gave me some sort of comfort and I was grateful for it, especially since my family didn't always have the time to visit.

I sighed, putting my piece of bacon back on the plate. "I'm okay. Had another nightmare," I tell him dejectedly. "The same one from before?" I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. "The same one. It's always the same one," I mumbled, bringing my hands to my lap and picking at my nails blindly. My heart starts to accelerate as the images flash behind my eyelids, my breathing quick and shallow with panic.

He puts a hand on top of mine, halting my actions. "I'm sorry, Meels," he says quietly, his thumb delicately brushing against the top of my wrist. "Breathe, you're not there anymore. You're safe." My head hurts; there's a loud whooshing in my ears, and I realize that I stopped breathing. I take a staggering breath in, trying to concentrate on the warmth of his hand and the pattern he was soothing into my skin.

I'm not there anymore. I'm safe. Charles is long gone and can't hurt me.

The bed dips as Noah sits beside me, cradling my head against his chest, his other arm wrapping around me. I lean into him, the new position moving my leg in an uncomfortable way, but I didn't care. I needed the comfort, the security, and right now I felt the safest with him. After all, he did what he could to protect me; he was the one who got me out of that prison.

"Before I left to come up here, Leora wanted me to tell you that she loves you," Noah tells me quietly. "And that she can't wait for you to come home." I let out a saddened laugh, muffled by his shirt. "Did she really?" "Mhm," he gives me a reassuring squeeze, and my heart rate starts to settle. "She was super bummed that she had to go to school and couldn't come with me, but I told her she'll get to see you soon." Tears spring to my eyes, saddened to know that my little girl was dying to see me, but it was also heartwarming to know that she was eager for me to come home.

I sat up and wiped under my lash line to dry the tears threatening to spill, taking in the warmth of Noah's expression. His chocolate eyes were docile as they bounced between mine, his lips curled into a gentle smile, and there's a flutter in my belly from it.

"You two getting along?" I mused, trying to push that foreign feeling aside. He nods, his smile turning into a bashful smirk. "Yeah, I think so. Took a few days, but her Uncle Nick finally got her to warm up to me." I snort, "Good, I'm glad." "Me, too. She's a good kid." I grin, "Yeah, she's great." "Well, she's got a great mom to look up to. She did a great job raising her," he chuckles, and my cheeks warm at his compliment. All I could do was let out a breathy laugh, thanking him quietly while averting my attention back to my breakfast in hopes he wouldn't notice my blush.

I couldn't begin to explain the relief or the elation that buzzed through my body, knowing that Leora was getting along with the man she wasn't even aware was her father. I just hoped that it would stay that way.

|Chapter 15|

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #the three of us #enemies to lovers #second chance romance #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens

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