#I would’ve left him sterile

[caracolcondiarrea]

today in class I had to be near one of my friends, so I took my desk near to his and the 2 kids in front of him started saying “oooooh A, did your temperature rise?” “Did it became hard?” (Not like that but referring to it). When I told it to the teacher (that they were saying that bc it was making me uncomfortable)she talked to them and when they went back to their spots, they started saying “bro Cayy, it was just a joke to A, we were not talking to you” as if I wasn’t in front of them, could hear the whole conversation (my friend did not talk to them other than saying bro) and they were saying that bc I had to be near my friend. They didn’t even said sorry. They were trying to justify that, they even said “but we’re at that age” and? Those comments should be kept a secret and they shouldn’t be said at ANY AGE, not a teenager should say it, an adult shouldn’t say it, NO ONE SHOULD SAY THAT TYPE OF THINGS

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

(UN)FINISHED CHEMISTRY

a/n: This second part was requested. Enjoy!

PART 1: (UN)FINISHED BUSINESS

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

warnings: a bit suggestive... Also, someone teach me how to come up with titles.

summary: Not enough time has passed for them to see each other again, yet Jude and she are forced to interact once more in another of Adidas’ “wonderful” campaigns. This time, though, they’re a bit closer...

The second photoshoot wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. In fact, they had both hoped to avoid each other for as long as possible, but fate—or rather, Adidas—had other plans. Just two weeks after their last encounter, they found themselves in another sterile, brightly lit studio. This time, the set was more intimate. Dimmed lights, softer tones, and a background that screamed "romance." It was all part of Adidas’ latest campaign for their new sportswear line: “Body connection.”

Right. Body connection.

Jude arrived first, dressed in a fitted black T-shirt and grey sweat pants, his athletic physique on full display. He scanned the room, taking in the atmosphere. The set was designed to look like a private gym, sleek and modern, with cushioned mats, low lights, and a few props—an exercise bench, a yoga mat, and a punching bag. It all screamed tension and sweat.

It would’ve been the perfect setting for anyone else. But when she walked in, the air shifted.

She appeared, effortlessly stunning in a sports bra and high-waisted leggings, both in deep navy that contrasted beautifully with her skin. Her hair was tied up this time, giving her a fierce, no-nonsense look. But Jude saw the way her eyes flickered when they landed on him. She was nervous, just like last time.

But it was different today. The tension wasn’t just from unfinished business or bitter memories—it was from the photoshoot brief itself.

The photographer clapped his hands as soon as she stepped onto the set. “Alright, everyone! Let’s pick up where we left off. This time, we’re focusing on physicality. I want to see raw energy, that connection. Jude, you’re going to be guiding her through some workout moves. Maybe a bit of flexibility. Close contact. Real, physical chemistry.”

Physical chemistry.

Jude swallowed hard.

Her breath hitched.

As she stepped closer, her face unreadable, they stood barely a foot apart. The energy between them crackled, and neither could deny it this time.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple. Jude, stand behind her and guide her through some stretching. Show her how to do it right,” the photographer directed, oblivious to the wildfire about to ignite between them.

Jude moved behind her as instructed, his body looming over hers as she bent forward, preparing for the stretch. His hands hovered just above her hips hesitant before they made contact, his touch firm but gentle as he guided her posture. His fingers splayed over her waist, his thumbs grazing the skin just above her waistband. She stiffened for a moment, the contact electrifying, but forced herself to stay composed.

"You’re tense," he whispered against the back of her neck, so low only she could hear. "You need to loosen up."

She wanted to snap back at him, to tell him to keep his hands to himself, but his touch—it was familiar. Too familiar. Her skin tingled where his fingers rested, her pulse quickening in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

Jude’s voice was controlled, low and steady, but there was a heat behind it that wasn’t just for the camera. “Lean into me.”

She hesitated, her body betraying her as she shifted her weight slightly back. She could feel the hardness of his chest pressing into her back, his breath grazing her ear. He leaned in closer, their proximity leaving nothing to the imagination.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile as his breath ghosted across her neck. “This is supposed to be professional.”

“Right,” he said, his voice teasing. “Because nothing says professional like having your ex feel you up.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the flutter of excitement his words ignited within her. The pull between them was undeniable, and Jude could sense it.

The photographer was completely oblivious to the tension building between them. “Perfect, perfect! Now, Jude, step in front of her. I want you two to do some light sparring, playful but intense.”

They broke apart, and for a second, she felt a strange emptiness where his body had been. Shaking it off, she took her stance, fists up, eyes locked on his. This time, she was ready to match him, toe to toe. Jude grinned, that infuriatingly confident smirk tugging at his lips.

“Don’t hold back,” he murmured, raising his fists. “I know you want to punch me.”

The playful challenge in his voice lit a fire in her, and she threw a light punch at his chest. He caught her wrist with ease, spinning her around so her back was against him once more, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. The motion was swift, almost too quick for her to react, and suddenly she found herself pinned against his body, her breath hitching as his grip tightened.

Of course, the photographer was delighted.

For a split second, the world fell away. It was just the two of them. His hand on her stomach, his breath at her neck, his body flush against hers.

“Easy,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear. His fingers slid along her skin, resting just under her ribs as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The heat between them was almost unbearable now.

She felt the muscle in her jaw tighten, trying to keep herself from melting into him. “Let go of me.”

Jude’s smirk deepened, but he released her slowly, savoring the feel of her slipping from his grasp. As she turned to face him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with a mixture of anger and something else, she realized they were far beyond the point of pretending.

"Alright, alright, let’s move on," the photographer called, completely unaware of the silent storm brewing between them. "Jude, lift her like you’re helping her with a pull-up. Close contact, show that strength. We want it to look intense.”

Jude raised a brow, and she shot him a warning glance. “Careful Bellingham…”

He chuckled shortly and stepped forward, slipping his hands around her waist again, this time lifting her effortlessly off the ground as she gripped a pull-up bar above her. As her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist for balance, she felt the undeniable semi-hard length of him pressing against her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, half to herself, half to him.

She could feel his breath on her lips, his heartbeat against her own. Her body was practically molded to his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded into oblivion.

Jude held her there, his hands pressing into her lower back, fingers digging in just slightly. “As if this were easy for me,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips grazing her ear as he lowered her back down slowly.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Did he miss her or did he just hate her? He was playing with fire, and they both knew it. Her breath came faster, her pulse racing as his grip tightened just slightly, their bodies still pressed together.

“You’re tickling me,” she muttered, her voice breathless, but even as she said it, her hands slid down to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

For a second, she thought he might kiss her. His eyes darkened, flicking to her lips, and she could see the struggle within him—the same one she was battling. But instead, he pulled back just enough to let her go, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m not falling Y/N,” he whispered again, that same taunting edge in his voice.

She half-pouted, but before she could respond, the photographer chimed in with one final instruction, completely oblivious to the electric storm between them. "That’s a wrap! Great work, guys! The chemistry is unreal."

Jude gave her one last lingering look, his eyes burning with unspoken words, and then he stepped away, leaving her standing there, her body still buzzing from the contact.

As he walked off set, she let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. She hated him. But God, she wanted him too.

As the crew began packing up, Y/N stayed rooted to the spot, still feeling the echo of Jude’s touch on her skin. The room had returned to its normal buzz of activity, but her mind was somewhere else, replaying the weight of his hands on her waist, the heat of his breath on her neck, the pressure against her bum...

She reached for her phone, half-expecting to find some mundane message from her manager or a notification of an app. Instead, her heart skipped a beat when Jude’s or rater, the contact named: that arrogant jerk, flashed across the screen.

Body conection? Nailed.

Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the message for a long moment, the flickering studio lights casting a dim glow across the phone’s screen. She didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if she should say anything at all. It had been months since she had entered his chat.

A second text buzzed in before she had time to think.

Any idea when round three is?

Her pulse raced, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. She bit her lip, the mix of amusement and desire swirling inside her like a storm. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to resist—to keep up the wall she’d built between them and left him on read—but a small part of her, the part that still remembered how things used to be, was tempted to tear it down.

She started typing, paused, then erased the words before starting again. Finally, she sent a single, teasing reply.

Don’t get too comfortable, Bellingham. Next time, I’m throwing the punch.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

His response came almost immediately.

Can’t wait.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was far from over.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

A Helping Hand (M) ~Seungmin

Pairing: LabHybrid!Seungmin x GN!Reader Themes: Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers | Roommates to Lovers Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Synopsis: After one too many shots of vodka, your best friend confided in you a little problem he’d been dealing with for a couple of months now. Tipsy-you figured that you were more than suitable to give him a helping hand. Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption · overall hybrid shenanigans · Seungmin has a dirty mouth · pet names · Smut (warnings under the cut). let me know if i missed any💜

Author’s Note: can’t believe my first ever published Seungmin fic is a hybrid au lmao. got a weird boost of inspiration for this after seeing @starlostseungmin talking about it, so here it is ! Special thanks to @notastraykid for giving her very valuable input to improve the first draft, as well as @comet-falls for letting me know it didn’t suck skjdfhsdkjf

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: this is, as usual, some monsterfuckery · handjobs · praising · breeding kink (kind of) · hybrid anatomy (knot) · copious amounts of fluids. again, let me know if i missed any

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

“You–You don’t have to do this, serious–Oh, God…”

You swallowed, focusing on your best friend’s face. Focusing a bit too much on the vein that popped on his neck when he threw his head back, on how pretty his eyelashes looked when his eyes fluttered shut, on those pouty lips of his you totally didn’t wish you could have on yours�� All while trying to ignore what you had between your hands, all while trying to ignore the obscene, squelching sounds their continuous movement produced…

“I said I’d help you, didn’t I, Seungmin?”

Seungmin inhaled deeply. His ears twitched, his tail seemed to have a life of its own, it had started thumping against the headboard of the bed the moment he’d sat down and you’d taken a hold of him.

After opening his eyes again, Seungmin looked at your face, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. “You did”.

“And I always keep my word, don’t I?” You twisted your wrists, never stopping the motions of your hands.

Seungmin sighed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate with the motion. “You do…”

A spark of doubt flared in your mind, large enough it was impossible to ignore. Your hands stopped, and the tiniest whine left Seungmin’s mouth. “Unless you… Are you feeling uncomfortable? I can– I can stop”.

Seungmin’s hands flew to your wrists, preventing you from pulling away completely. “No. No, no, please, don’t… I… Fuck, I really want this. I really, really need this”.

You would’ve never expected the afternoon to take you here… To your best friend’s bedroom, to him sitting on his bed, with his back against the headboard, and with his legs spread. You would’ve never expected to have his cock in your hands, barely even out of his lounge shorts. In your mind, this had never been a real, genuine possibility. Yet here you were.

How long had it been since you realised you had a crush on your best friend? Too long, probably. It might’ve been a bit embarrassing, but you truly couldn’t even remember a time when you weren’t pining over him, a time when you weren’t thinking how it would be like to be with him physically, intimately…

Although, to be fair, this situation was far more sterile than all those fantasies you’d allowed your mind to wander into only in the wee hours of the night. It wasn’t as if Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you, or you to him. It was more like… like you were giving your friend a hand–literally and figuratively.

Seungmin was a hybrid. A black labrador hybrid, to be exact. He’d been your best friend since you were a kid, when the school you attended finally started allowing hybrids as students. You could still remember the first day you saw him, standing in a corner by the lockers. You’d approached him, mostly because your mother had taught you that hybrids must be treated well, just like you’d treat anyone else.

He was a shy boy, totally out of character for a lab hybrid, but the more you got to know him, the more he warmed up to you, the more you started to see that bright personality of his. As soon as he’d deemed you trustworthy, it was almost like that shyness had never been there in the first place.

He started to come over to your place to hang out or do homework, to open up about his life, and even to show more of his mischievous side. He’d call you everything from dumb dumb, to human kiddo, to little human, just because he could. But it was fine.

Even if at the beginning it annoyed you that he simply wouldn’t call you by your name, it eventually became such a Seungmin thing to do, you just couldn’t find it in you to be mad at him when his eyes sparkled so brightly whenever he used his little nicknames for you.

Seungmin was chaotic, he was funny, and he was the most loyal friend you’d ever had. He’d been with you through thick and thin. Every broken friendship and relationship, he was always there to console you, to hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright. He was always there for you, without fail. He’d always joke around and say it was one of his lab traits, but you knew better.

Whether he was a hybrid or not, you knew Seungmin would still be the same Seungmin.

Your Seungmin.

A couple of years ago, you finally got to move out of your parents’ house. It was only natural that you ended up renting a place with your best friend, considering he, too, wanted to move out, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of living with strangers.

Decades had passed since hybrids were integrated into human society. They finally had rights, they were treated as people and not some pet you bought from a store–no disrespect to pets, they had their rights, too. But pets weren’t people. Hybrids, on the other hand, were.

Hybrids had free will, they could reason like humans could, and they certainly deserved to be treated as equals. These were the values that you’d been taught as you grew up, and it was something you believed in still to this day.

Regardless, hybrids still had their animal urges and needs, which Seungmin seemed to have been struggling with for a couple of months now.

The confession happened last night, while you both threw a tennis ball back and forth at each other, after one too many shots of vodka–to be more precise, it’d been three. Three shots of vodka only. 

Alcohol wasn’t deadly toxic to Seungmin like it was to other hybrids, but his body certainly couldn’t digest it very well, which usually manifested not only in the flush that spread all over his face, but also by shutting down every single one of his filters. ‘I haven’t been able to come in two fucking months. Two months! I feel like I’m dying, dude. I just need to blow’.

You’d asked him how that was even possible, how he had not managed to bring himself to orgasm in two months, considering you knew he was a person with a moderate sex drive–based on the amount of times you had to stay in your shared flat while he had company over… His answer was a very graceful ‘The fuck if i know… Nothing works, my dearest little human. Porn doesn’t work. Literature doesn’t work. And my imagination clearly doesn’t work, either’.

He looked genuinely distressed about it, especially when he sighed, and his tone lowered. ‘I’ve been checking forums online… Going anonymous to ask strangers, specifically other hybrids, but most of them said that I needed to find the root cause, that something in my environment could be affecting my physical performance, but it’s… It’s really frustrating, because I genuinely have no idea what’s going on’.

‘Have you tried, I don’t know, getting laid?’ was what your tipsy self asked. You wouldn’t have asked that question fully sober for sure. You really didn’t want to know if Seungmin was out there getting laid these days. It had been a little over a year since you had seen him date anyone, and the thought of him dating someone now, admittedly, made you jealous. Which was potentially very stupid on your part considering you were just friends. The best of friends. Only friends.

‘Nah. Can you imagine if I’m with someone and I can’t fucking come? Distress… Besides, I don’t want to just… You know, do it with a random person. People are kinda… ew’. You could understand completely why he wouldn’t want to go out and hook up with a stranger. After all, some people still saw hybrids as sex slaves, or they were heavily fetishised, so it wasn’t exactly safe to partake in one night stands for him. 

Besides, your best friend was not one for hookups and one night stands in the first place. He had trust issues, especially with humans, so you could definitely understand his predicament. 

‘What if it’s someone you know?’ You threw the ball back at him just as you’d boldly asked the question, because spirits always made you voice things sober you would never have the guts to say.

Seungmin caught the ball and scoffed, completely sure that no one he knew would want to be that intimate with him, and not think ill of him if he didn’t manage to perform. 

But you had to open your big mouth again, very confidently telling him ‘And what about me? I can do it’.

The ball suddenly fell from Seungmin’s hand, landing on the floor and rolling under the coffee table. His eyes followed the movement like a hawk–or, maybe it’d be more accurate to say like a dog. He stretched his body a bit out of the sofa, not even bothering to stand up fully, trying to get the ball while he chuckled, maybe a bit nervously.

Seungmin genuinely thought you were joking for a second. That was exactly what he’d told you, but then he saw how serious you were about it, and, after a few minutes of silence, he simply said that you should have this conversation sober.

Which you did.

Which took you right here, right into his room, with his painfully hard cock in your hands.

Seungmin knew you wouldn’t judge him if he couldn’t come. He trusted you enough to be vulnerable with you in more ways than one, to tell you what he needed or wanted, so you would gladly help him–the fact that you had a major crush on him made you feel a bit self-conscious, you’d admit… Like you were taking advantage of the situation to touch him this intimately. But you had already offered it, and he had already accepted it, so you just didn’t feel like backing down on your word.

“Tighten your grip a bit more”, Seungmin mumbled, and once again he threw his head back when you did as asked and continued working his cock. “Fuck, yeah. That’s it…”

You were starting to heat up yourself. Especially whenever he spoke like that, with the tone of his voice as low as it was. Seungmin was one to swear a lot, very openly, but in this context, it certainly felt… filthier. And it affected you. Maybe embarrassingly so…

You couldn’t help but swear under your breath when your eyes drifted from his face to his length. How could you not look? When he was there, letting you touch him…

Clear fluid leaked from his tip, dripping all over your fingers and aiding your movement, intensifying those sinful wet sounds that resonated in your ears with each stroke. You knew his specific breed tended to produce more fluids than a human would, he’d told you this before in passing, but you had honestly not expected it to be this much.

Seungmin didn’t seem fazed at his slick soiling his clothes. On the contrary, it seemed like he didn’t even care at all.

“Like what you see?”

Your head snapped upwards to meet his eyes, and you immediately felt heat rush to your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard not to look, but…” You suddenly felt small under his gaze, even if your hands didn’t stop. His eyes were so dark, staring right into yours so intensely the hairs at your nape stood on end.

Seungmin always tried not to look people in the eyes, ‘It activates this primal instinct in me, it’s a bit annoying sometimes, to be honest. I only make eye contact when… when I… Well, you know…’ He’d said once, very vaguely, but even back then, you understood. 

He didn’t need to tell you in which situation he enjoyed eye contact. Whenever you looked him in the eyes, you always felt trapped under his gaze, like you wanted to submit. And, somehow, it also woke the butterflies in your belly. Right now, that feeling seemed to have heightened tenfold.

“You’re trying not to look, but…?” Seungmin licked his lips, reaching forward to take a hold of your forearm. Not to stop you, but simply to drag his thumb over your skin in soothing motions.

“But…” You swallowed. You figured now was as good a time as any to let the thoughts out of your head, otherwise they would haunt you forever. “You’re so big”.

Seungmin giggled, a sound that he hardly ever let anyone outside of his close friend group hear, the flush on his face deepened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adorable, even in this context… “You think I’m big?”

“Haven’t touched someone this big ever”, your pace was still slow, but you made sure to stroke as much of him as you could, as tight as he had asked you to. It wasn’t like he was crazy big, he wasn’t particularly long, but he was just… girthy. Girthier than you had ever seen in your pathetic excuse for a love life. “Not only that, but… It’s just… pretty”.

At that, Seungmin looked genuinely incredulous. “Pretty?”

“Mm… pretty”.

He was going to speak, but before he could, your movements sped up, and the whine that left his mouth as soon as you did had your insides instantly firing up. It was a completely involuntary reaction, how could your body not react when the sounds coming out of his mouth were this sinful? When the almost canine whines stirred the butterflies flying freely in your belly?

“Oh, fuck… That’s it, baby, just like that, shit…”

You didn’t even acknowledge the pet name that just escaped his lips. You were convinced it was a heat of the moment thing, so you swallowed that saliva that had suddenly pooled in your mouth, and continued to focus on your motions. 

With both of your hands, you went from the base to the head a few times, until you settled one of your hands at the base and the other at the tip. You had heard that the base of a canine hybrid’s cock was sensitive, not as much as the head, but much more than a human’s would be, and Seungmin’s wagging tail and content sighs proved that to be true.

You made sure to pull the foreskin with you when you pumped his head, and your eyes naturally drifted to the sight again. Pretty, indeed…

“You’re so fucking good at this, fuck…” Seungmin’s head was tilted back against the headboard, but he was still looking at you through his lashes. His chest rose and fell with his laboured breathing, he was essentially panting, his tongue poked out from between his lips, and the movement of his thumb on your forearm had long since stopped. He was now just gripping your arm, lightly digging his fingers on your skin.

“You think so?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you definitely wanted to hear more of his praise. It fed a pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach that you just knew you’d have to deal with as soon as you were on your own and away from his prying eyes…

“Fuck, yeah… You’re so good to me, so…” His words trailed off, stopped when he swallowed thickly. 

You wanted him to continue what he was going to say, you almost asked him to, but before you could, he spoke again–with an edge of desperation in his voice that almost made you faint.

“Squeeze a bit harder at the base”, so you did, twisting your wrist as you went up and down, and the loud moan that fell from his mouth made you dizzy with need. “That’s it, keep doing that, fuck…”

You worked his cock for a while, all as words of appreciation continued to fly past his lips, all as his slick kept dripping all over your fingers, as he directed more pet names your way. Until something started to feel different…

“Oh, oh, fuck… Fuck, shit, don’t stop, baby, please, don’t…”

You wouldn’t have dared stop, not when your fingers suddenly weren’t able to touch where you held him. You kept the motions on the head of his cock, but the base seemed to be swelling under your grasp, loosening it a bit.

“No, no, don’t stop there. Squeeze it. Keep touching it, pup”, Seungmin pleaded, tightening his grip on your arm while small whines escaped his throat, almost drowned by the sound of his tail thumping against the headboard.

“Oh, my God…” You knew hybrids were anatomically different to humans, but you had never really considered just how much they could be, so it really took you by surprise.

You were experiencing one of Seungmin’s hybrid attributes first hand. There, at the base of his cock, a knot was quickly swelling, and you would’ve never expected how much the sight and feel of it could affect you. Your mind raced, suddenly curious as to how it would feel like if he were pushing his cock into your warmth, how he would stretch you out to your absolute limits…

Seungmin might’ve been the hybrid here, but you were certainly salivating at the feel of his swollen knot in your hands.

Tightening your grip around his knot, you started massaging it, just as you pumped his head faster, coaxing a string of groans and moans and swears to come out of Seungmin’s mouth.

“Your hands… They’re so soft, so… perfect. That’s perfect, pup, you’re doing so fucking well”.

Seungmin was talking to you like you weren’t the one working him up. It would’ve amused you, had it not been feeding the fire that was burning bright deep within yourself.

You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin, drenched in your own fluids because of Seungmin, and the sounds he was making, and his heavy cock under your hands, and that fucking knot of his…

“Seungmin… Shit, you… This…” Being honest, you were speechless. 

“What? Huh?” Seungmin finally let go of your arm, instead he cupped your cheek, making you look at him, just as he started to thrust up into your fists. “I know what you want to tell me. Or, at least, I think I do, fuck… I can hear how fast your heart is beating, pup. I can smell it all, you know? I wanna know what you’re thinking. Tell me”.

You licked your lips, staring into his eyes. You were sure your face couldn’t be any warmer, yet the heat seemed to spread further the longer you looked at him, the faster you moved your hands and he thrusted into your grip.

“I’m… Fuck, I can’t help but think how it would feel like inside me, stretching me open…”

“Oh, shit–” Seungmin threw his head back. His tail thrashed against the headboard, and his ears were twitching nonstop. “I can–Fuck, baby, I can give it to you. Whatever you want, just say it and I’ll give it to you”.

With your lower lip trapped between your teeth, you took in a deep breath, almost shivering when Seungmin pulled his shirt up to reveal his torso just as he mumbled the most desperate “Close, so fucking close, puppy. Don’t you dare fucking stop. Tell me–tell me more…”

“I want… want your knot… I want you, Seungmin. So much, so, so much. Need you”, you emphasised each statement with a tighter squeeze to the swollen base of his length.

“Oh, fuck!”

With a few more thrusts of his hips, and a few more twists of your wrists, Seungmin gave you a quick warning, only for your name to fly past his lips, and explode seconds after. Thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting his torso in the creamy substance and dripping all over your hands. It was so much cum, more than you had ever seen anyone ever produce.

The sounds coming out of his mouth were absolutely pornographic, they entered your ears and shot straight to your aching, needy insides. Needy for Seungmin, for his knot, and his everything.

You kept working his cock, pumping the tip to make sure every drop of his cum came out, squeezing and stroking his knot through it all. Until Seungmin’s body slumped against the headboard.

The movement of your hands stopped, but you didn’t remove them. The sight was straight out of a wet dream, his torso, his shirt, his shorts, your hands, everything was covered in cum, and you suddenly had the urge to taste it. But you begrudgingly resisted that urge, this was probably not the moment for that.

When you finally looked away from the mess, your eyes found Seungmin’s. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breaths, his lips were slightly parted as he gasped for air, and he was looking so deeply into your eyes you simply couldn’t look away.

You weren’t sure who moved first, maybe it was you, or maybe it was him… Or maybe, it had been both.

Before you knew it, Seungmin’s soft, moist lips were on yours, kissing you like a starved man. And you retaliated, of course. You kissed him with the same enthusiasm he had, licking his bottom lip to get your tongue inside his mouth, and very quickly, you started to feel lightheaded.

Kissing Seungmin was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Hearing him and seeing him come was a transcendental experience, and you were sure that your brain chemistry had just been altered forever. How could you ever go back to anyone else after this?

The kiss was messy, sloppy, tongues intertwining and teeth sinking on soft skin, producing wet noises all around. You would’ve honestly loved to stay there forever, kissing him, with his length in your hands and his cum all over your fingers. Unfortunately, though, you needed to breathe, so you finally disconnected your lips from his, and took a deep breath.

Seungmin looked into your eyes, and you looked right back. They were still dark, still alluring, but there was something else, something softer… Maybe more vulnerable. The stare-off lasted for a few moments, a few moments spent in silence, until you both broke into a fit of laughter.

Seungmin was practically glowing, he looked possibly the most handsome you’d ever seen him. Even when he was covering the lower part of his face with his hand while he laughed, trying to hide that pretty smile of his after years and years of insecurities produced by the now long since removed braces on his teeth, you still found him incredibly handsome and adorable.

“I take it you enjoyed it? You must have. Look at this mess you made”, there was a teasing smile on your lips, but the truth was, you genuinely wanted to know. 

“As much as you enjoyed, it seems”, Seungmin scoffed, and he gestured between your bodies, where you were still holding his cock. He was still just as hard as he was before he came. 

“You’re still hard?” You couldn’t hide the surprise in your voice, nor the way your eyes widened at the sight, and it made Seungmin smirk immediately. 

“Baby, I’m a dog. My cock thinks it should be inside someone right now, keeping all my cum contained with my knot. Of course I’m still hard, it wants to breed”.

“To… to breed?” Your voice was airy, shaky, suddenly unable to contain the feeling of pure arousal you felt coursing through your veins.

“Mm… to breed”, Seungmin repeated, and he bit his lip when you started to gently squeeze and caress his knot.

He detached himself from the headboard just enough so he could pull his shirt off. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. His gaze softened further, and he brought his hands to your cheeks so he could softly caress the skin with his thumbs. “Thank you. Fuck, I'm so grateful right now. That felt so good”.

“Oh, please… It was my pleasure”, you chuckled, finally letting go of the head of his cock so both of your hands could focus on giving attention to his knot, hopefully helping relieve any possible discomfort he might be feeling since it was out in the open, unable to fulfil its purpose. 

The motions clearly made Seungmin’s blush deepen. He looked at you for a few bated breaths, and before you could even understand what was happening, you were on your back, gasping in surprise. 

Taking his discarded shirt, Seungmin knelt on the bed, right between your legs, and he cleaned your hands, as well as his torso of as much of his cum as he could. 

“Your pleasure, pretty human, hasn’t even started yet. Let me make you feel as good as you just made me feel”.

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General Masterlist

[joobi7]

BIKER!SUKUNA X NURSE!READER

tldr: sukuna is the leader of a feared bike gang that's known for being the strongest. but what happens when the strongest finally loses? sukuna is sent to the hospital in critical condition and you are his nurse...

tw: mentions of violence and blood

wc: 1.4k

A/N: see above image to understand what a "bunny apple slice" looks like. plz tell me yall know what im talking about or else ill feel very sad and goofy :(

ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ ִֶָ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐ִֶָ⋅˚₊

Sukuna constantly finds himself in fights due to his blunt (and frankly asshole-y) attitude. He leads a motorcycle gang called the “Curses”. Truth be told Sukuna would’ve much rather the group be devoid of the cringey name, but Uraume already made matching motorcycle stickers for everyone.

Sukuna’s brash actions got himself into another fight. This wasn’t just any fight—he had picked a clash with a gang called the Arashi.

Earlier that week, they had been engaged in a shady deal that Sukuna had stumbled upon. His interference had been straightforward—he had dismantled their operation with little regard for the fallout. The Arashi, feeling publicly humiliated and threatened, had taken it personally.

Now, as Sukuna faced the Arashi members, it was clear this was different than a usual brawl. They had come ready for a real fight, bringing weapons and even a stolen car in an attempt to run Sukuna over. 

Despite his peak physique and fighting experience, Sukuna couldn’t withstand the impact of a car.

 By the time his gang members, Kenjaku and Uraume, arrived, the Arashi had already fled, leaving Sukuna badly injured at the bloody scene. They rushed him to the nearest hospital, worried about his condition.

Two days later, Sukuna awoke in a hospital bed, groggy and disoriented. The sterile smell of antiseptic and the beeping of medical equipment were overstimulating. His mind raced as he tried to piece together his predicament. It didn’t take long to realize the extent of his injuries. His spine was severely damaged due to the car crash, and he would need extensive physical therapy in order to recover. 

“Get me the fuck out of here” he spat, glaring at both you and the doctor. “I don’t need this place.”

“Sir, you need to stay put,” you say, clearly unaffected by his outburst. “Your injuries are severe. You could do lasting damage if you don’t follow the treatment plan.”

Sukuna’s gaze turned to you. You were a university student interning as a nurse at the local hospital. You had already witnessed several of his outbursts since he woke from his coma, and was tired of his attitude.

Although Sukuna remained quiet after your remark, you could feel his glare drilling into the back of your head as you left the room.

Five days passed with Sukuna refusing to participate in physical therapy. Uraume and Kenjaku visited frequently, trying to convince him to stay and cooperate, but he wouldn’t budge.

On the eighth day, you tried.

“You’re not leaving until you’re well enough. Your spine is damaged. Physical therapy is essential for a full recovery.”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need this hospital to fix me. I’m fine.”

Ignoring his hostility, you pressed on. “If you leave now, you’ll only prolong your recovery or make things worse. . We both know that you haven’t been able to regain all control over your left leg.”

Sukuna grits his teeth at the truth of your comment. The only reason why he hasn’t run away from the hospital in the middle of the night was because he physically couldn’t. He could barely make it halfway to the door before collapsing. 

Deep down, Sukuna knew that physical therapy was the logical choice that was in his best interest. But partaking in physical therapy meant admitting his vulnerability, it would be on display for everyone to see. The biker gang leader Sukuna was supposed to be invincible. He’s not supposed to lose. He can’t lose. What was he if he wasn’t the strongest?

“No person can beat a car going 40 mph at them,” you said softly. “Even the strongest.” 

“I don’t need your comfort,” Sukuna said, looking away. Still, you had said exactly what he needed to hear. “Fine, sign me up for physical therapy… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.” 

For the first time, he sees you break into a smile. You look as if you won the lottery or someone just told you Santa was real or both. “How odd”, he thinks, “how can you smile so easily just from hearing those words?”

The first physical therapy session was challenging. When you touched Sukuna’s left leg to guide him through an exercise, he instinctively pushed you away, causing you to fall.

Sukuna opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything you apologized. “Sorry I didn’t ask for your permission for physical contact. I apologize if that made you uncomfortable. Here, let's try another exercise and I’ll be sure to avoid contact.” 

Sukuna begrudgingly followed through, but he was confused. Why did he open his mouth to speak? What was he going to say? Was he going to apologize for pushing you? Did he feel sorry? Did he not mind your touch?

The days that followed were a mix of reluctant cooperation and gruff acknowledgment. You continued to work with him, and your patience provided a stark contrast to his abrasive demeanor.

He grumbled through physical therapy, the exercises painstaking and his pride wounded. But as days turned into weeks, he began to see the value in your persistence. Your care wasn’t just about the job; it was about his well-being. Even though he was too proud to admit it, Sukuna respected your dedication to even an asshole like him.

One evening, after another grueling therapy session, Sukuna caught you staying late, tending to his needs despite your shift ending hours ago.

“Why do you keep staying late?” he asked, curiously. “Don’t you have a life outside of this?”

You looked at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Because someone has to make sure you don’t screw up your recovery.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly. “You’re a pain, you know that?”

“And you’re not exactly a pleasure to be around,” you retorted playfully. 

One afternoon, an author visited the hospital to read a picture book about a bunny. As you walked Sukuna back from his physical therapy session, you noticed him eyeing a display of bunny plushies set up for the event. He thinks of how the bunny sort of looks like you.

Noticing his interest, you teased him. “Want one of those bunny plushies? I could get one for you.”

Sukuna turned his head, trying to keep his usual stern expression, but there was a faint blush creeping up to the tips of his ears. He takes a moment to collect himself before giving you a deadpan look, though it was clear he was trying hard not to smile. “No, I don’t need a stuffed bunny.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes internally. “Sure, whatever you say,” you retort. 

Later that day, as part of your routine, you brought Sukuna his usual apples for a snack. But today, you had taken a bit of extra time to cut ears into each apple slice so they look like rabbits. Although Sukuna’s pride wouldn’t allow him to keep a fluffy bunny plushie, hopefully he would accept the rabbit shaped apples.

You left the plate in his room while he napped. When Sukuna saw the apple bunnies, his face turned a deep share of red. “I thought I hid my interest in the rabbits well,” he muttered, abashedly.

His usual cool demeanor cracked, and he couldn’t hide his embarrassment. He stared at the apple bunnies, his eyes softening as he realized the effort you had put into them.

As Sukuna sat there on the hospital bed, munching on the apple bunnies, he couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of warmth and awkwardness. Sukuna found himself lost in thought as he munched on the apple slices shaped like little rabbits. He started imagining what it must have been like for you while you were preparing them. The cuts weren’t perfect—clearly an amateur’s attempt—but the effort you put into carving those bunny ears made Sukuna feel oddly touched.

He pictured you scrunching your nose in concentration, much like you did when guiding him through difficult physical therapy exercises. Or maybe you had a proud, toothy grin when you finished, similar to the one you wore when you beat him at whatever board game you guys were playing that day.

He looked at the remaining apple bunny slice on the plate and buried his blushing face in his hands. He just fell in love.

[chibinasuu]

White Noise | Franky x Reader

Part of the Thousand Sunny Slice-of-Life Series

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

Summary: You woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night and sought the company of the crew’s shipwright, who was still tinkering away in his workshop Word count: 1k  Tags: one-shot, fluff, domestic bliss onboard the sunny, platonic straw hat pirates x reader, main pairing could be interpreted as platonic or romantic, no use of y/n, use of "princess" as a nickname but otherwise GN, mentions of canon-typical violence/injury

You jolted awake, fingers gripping the soft sheets under you. The Sunny’s infirmary was dark, with only the faintest glow of the moonlight infiltrating through the window. It was so quiet that you swore you could hear the thunderous beat of your heart pounding inside your rib cage. A slight sheen of sweat covered your brows.

Your left hand subconsciously flew to your right shoulder. It was covered with sterile white bandages that wrapped all the way down to your chest, but you could still picture the deep red gash underneath, which Chopper had meticulously stitched a few days ago. 

The pain had subsided into a dull throb now, but the face of the Marine captain who had granted you the injury still haunted your dreams. You had eventually won your one-on-one fight against him, giving him an even worse wound across his back, but it had been the closest battle you had ever faced. You had lost so much blood and if it wasn’t for Chopper, you didn’t know if you would’ve survived. 

The crew all made it out of the skirmish with the Marines safely, albeit with scratches and injuries of their own, but Chopper deemed yours the worst and had you stay in the infirmary. You appreciated that he was looking out for you, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit uneasy when sleeping without the reassuring presence of your crewmates nearby. 

You ran your hands over your face and got up gingerly, knowing that you would not be able to sleep again like this. You walked over to the adjacent kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. It was around midnight, and you debated going to the crow’s nest to bother whoever was on night watch duty, but the mere thought of climbing those swaying ropes up the entire height of the mast with your injured shoulder made you shudder. 

There was one other person you could think of who may still be awake at this hour, and you knew just where to find him. 

You walked over to the fridge and input the lock’s password, which Sanji only entrusted to you, Robin, and Nami. You grabbed a bottle of ice-cold cola, then carefully made your way down to the docking room.

The buzz of a drill got louder and louder as you continued to walk through a narrow pathway heading aft.

The sound of the tool stopped as its handler noticed your footsteps getting closer, “Usopp, bro, is that you?”

“Not Usopp, sorry to disappoint,” you said as you walked into Franky’s workshop, smiling lightly at the cyborg sitting cross-legged on the metal floor, “I brought cola though, so can I stay here for a while?”

Concern flashed through Franky’s eyes, “Can’t sleep?”

You nodded, and he asked again, “Shoulder’s bothering you?”

You shook your head, “Not anymore.”

“Ah, nightmare then?” He correctly guessed.

When you slowly nodded, Franky put down his tool and opened his arms. You wordlessly rushed into them. His metal arms were physically cool to the touch, but the embrace was warmer than you could ever imagine. 

He sat you down on his lap, careful not to agitate your injured shoulder, and took the cola you offered. After he drank the whole bottle in three large gulps, he turned to you and asked gently, “You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head, not really wanting to relive the horrific memory of the recent battle.

He didn’t push you, immediately understanding that comfort and company were what you needed right now, “Okay. You mind if I continue working then?”

“Yeah.” You peeked at his project, “What are you working on so late at night anyway?”

His massive arms encircled you as he picked up a pair of disassembled sniper goggles, “Usopp and I are giving this baby an upgrade. We’ll have the zoom so powerful, he’ll be able to snipe a warship from miles away! It’ll be super useful in case of surprise ambushes like last time.”

You settled comfortably on Franky’s lap, your back against his front, as he picked up his tool and continued to work. 

Before you knew it, the sounds of him drilling in screws, twisting some wires, and softly hammering small pieces of metal had gradually lulled you into a state of half-sleep. The faint crackle of the workshop’s furnace, which also provided warmth throughout the room, only added to your drowsiness. 

Suddenly, the sounds abruptly stopped and you felt yourself being pulled back to consciousness against your will. You opened your eyes to see Franky looking down on you with a smirk, “Sleeping like this can’t be good for your shoulder.”

You groaned and closed your eyes again stubbornly, “But I’m comfortable here.”

Franky packed his gears and the goggles into a toolbox, then gathered you into his arms, “C’mon. Let’s get you to bed, Princess.”

He picked you up like you weighed nothing, one hand supporting your back and the other below your knees. Normally you would complain, telling him that you could walk on your own, but your weary mind simply accepted his favor. 

It wasn’t a long walk to the infirmary, and sooner than you realized, he had set you down delicately on the patient bed and covered you with a soft blanket. 

“Well, hope you have a super nice dream.” He said as he patted your head. 

“Franky,” You called out as he started moving towards the door, “Can you please stay until I fall asleep? You can keep working on your stuff.”

“Sure thing, Princess.” He grinned, “Let me grab my stuff from the workshop then.”

Franky returned a few minutes later with his toolbox and sat quietly on the floor, his back leaning on the bedside. He started working on his project again, taking care to keep the noise to a minimum. You smiled as you closed your eyes, grateful to have him keeping the suffocating silence at bay. Before long, you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Franky’s soft tinkering. 

The sun was well on its way to its highest point in the sky when the warm rays roused you from your deep slumber. You felt the corners of your mouth turn up as you slowly got up from the bed. No nightmares. 

Find the other parts with the rest of the Straw Hats here

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 3)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: I'm so so sorry this is so late! but I did it!

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1 ; Part 2

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

The first thing you noticed was the soft hum of medical equipment surrounding you, followed by a sterile scent lingering in the air. The steady beeping of monitors consistently interrupted the silence as you slowly blinked away unconsciousness. You turned your head slightly, eyes adjusting to the brightness of your hospital room. 

First, you notice Dustin snoozing next to Steve on the couch to your right. Dustin’s mouth hung open as he leaned practically all of his weight into Steve’s side. He most likely fell asleep before Steve, making him unable to move from his spot. You would’ve felt bad for the former King of Hawkins if you thought he was actually annoyed by your little brother’s presence, but he obviously had a soft spot for him.

It was then you noticed the weight on your left hand. You turned your head lazily and there he was. Slouched over your arm, his hair rudely obstructing your view of his relaxed face as his steady breath moved a strand in and out of his mouth. You did your best to slip your hand out, a desperate attempt to push the hair out of his face, but all you did was startle him awake.

Eddie’s top half shot upwards, brown eyes as wide as saucers and hair sticking out in all different directions. He flailed his arms wildly in an attempt to fight off an invisible attacker and let out a high pitched squeak that woke up your brother and Steve. Eddie’s eyes scanned the room wildly, a mix of confusion and fear before realizing where he was.

He didn’t even notice you were awake until you started giggling at him.

Eddie’s gaze snapped to yours, he didn’t have time to memorize the way your laugh sounded right after waking up before Dustin launched himself at you. Attacking you in a hug that squished all the air out of your lungs.

Eddie stepped back a bit, unsure of where to belong in this situation. He didn’t want to interrupt a moment between brother and sister. Steve was easing Dustin off of you so you could breathe again and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how King Steve managed to fit himself into the Henderson family so easily. He seems to blend in effortlessly into your sibling relationship that it planted a seed of doubt in Eddie’s chest.

“What happened?” you asked after Dustin sat back.

“You had an allergic reaction.”

“Oh…right,” you said quietly as the memories slowly came back to you. Of course, it’s just your luck a damn peanut sends you closer to death than any demogorgon, demodog, russian spy or mind flayer ever did.

“Powell took Carver in for questioning,” Steve said.

Dustin scoffed.

“He may not be Hopper,” Steve added, “but he hasn’t let him go despite Carver’s dad throwing a fit about the whole thing. We have a whole cafeteria of witnesses so he’ll have a hard time getting out of this one.”

You eyed Eddie standing awkwardly in the corner, toeing one of the tiles on the floor with his beat up Reeboks. Doing everything in his power to not make eye contact with you. Before you could question it, the door swung open.

"Excuse me," a nurse said gently as she entered the room, "Y/N needs rest right now. Her body has been through a lot. I suggest you all head home for the night and come back tomorrow when she's feeling a bit better."

Dustin looked ready to protest, but you squeezed his hand, silently urging him to listen. He nodded solemnly and turned to gather his things. Steve stood up, giving you a warm smile, although you didn’t send one back.

Your eyes met Steve’s with a gentle yet persistent gaze. A subtle tension filled the hospital room, unnoticeable to Eddie and Dustin. Your eyes flicked towards the former, then back at Steve, only to be met with a confused look on his face. He stared at you dumbly, mouth agape in an ‘o’ shape, trying to decipher your expression. 

You grew more urgent, eyes darting towards Eddie again, praying the metalhead wouldn’t look up and notice the silent conversation you were having with Steve.

Finally, realization dawned in his eyes and with a quick nod and a teasing grin Steve gripped Dustin’s shoulders and steered him out the door.

“What the- Steve!” 

“Anyway, get better soon Y/N/N! I’ll get Dustin home safe and sound,” Steve rushed out.

“Let me say bye to my sister!”

Steve pulled him into the hallway before Dustin could protest any more, the door swung shut and effectively cutting off their bickering.

With the other boys gone, your eyes softened as you turned towards Eddie, a warm smile formed across your face as you tried to catch his eye.

“Glad you’re okay Y/N. I’ll uh…I’ll see you around,” he moved to follow Steve and Dustin out but hesitated at the door.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He turned to you, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Maybe…you could stay here? I mean, only if you want to. You’ve already done so much for me already, I don’t want to force you or anything…” you trailed off.

Eddie was fidgeting, bouncing on the balls of his feet and wiping his sweaty palms over and over again on his ripped jeans.

“Do you want me to stay?” Eddie asked quietly. 

The timidness in his voice caught you off guard for a moment but you didn’t hesitate to answer, “yes. I want you to stay.”

Eddie’s eyes shine with fondness as he walks back to his chair at the side of your bed. You sent him a warm tight lipped smile as he got himself comfortable on the stiff plastic seat.

The air between you both felt heavy with unspoken feelings and words, interrupted only by the footsteps in the hallway and the gentle hum of medical equipment. Eddie stole glances at you, his heart pounding so hard he could almost see it through his Hellfire shirt. You could feel the weight of his gaze, sensing the turmoil in his head.

Finally, unable to bear the silence you asked, “what day is it?”

“Uh,” Eddie said, looking at the digital watch on his wrist, “technically it’s Saturday morning.”

 “WHAT?!” your eyes widened in horror. “Eddie, your campaign!”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“You worked so hard on it! Ugh, I’m so sorry Eddie-” you cut yourself off at the look in Eddie’s eyes. There was a vulnerability you had never seen before.

And then, without any warning, Eddie’s facade crumpled. Tears filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks in steady streams. He turned away from you, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

Your heart shattered at the sight, “Eddie, I’m sorry. We can do it when I get out of here, I promise.”

“Fuck, that’s not-” Eddie gripped his hair in frustration. He could spin fantasy stories into gold but finding the right words to express his feelings never came easy to him.

Sensing that this breakdown was not about the campaign you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay.”

Eddie shook his head, unable to speak through the tears, but he still leaned into your touch. You tugged at his sleeve gently and that was all Eddie needed to sit on the edge of your bed and collapse into your embrace. 

“I-I mean, you were the one who almost died but…but,” Eddie let out a heart wrenching whimper into your shoulder. “Fuck, it was j-just so scary. I didn’t know what to do.”

You hold him gently, arms wrapped tightly around him in a comforting embrace. You could feel him trembling, his breathing was uneven as he attempted to suppress more sobs. Your heart ached at the thought of Eddie seeing you almost die the way you did.

You stroke his surprisingly soft hair, whispering soothing words of comfort and reassurance. As Eddie’s cries subside into quiet sniffles, you continue to hold him until he slowly peeled himself away. He aggressively swipes the tears and snot from his face, keeping his gaze pointed downward.

“Sorry,” Eddie sniffed, embarrassed by his outburst.

You push the hair out of his face and behind his ear, a gesture that felt strangely natural. “It’s okay, Eddie. It’s really scary to witness someone choke to death on nothing. It messed Dustin up for a while.” 

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, “You’ve had uh...ana-puh-nax-sis before?”

You giggled slightly which made the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn upward.

“When I was really young Dustin and I had a babysitter that ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before coming over and that was enough to send me to the hospital. I was in a coma for two days. Dustin witnessed everything and he’s been researching allergies ever since.”

“Wow. You don’t even have to eat it to get a reaction?”

“Nope.”

“Did Harrington help out last time too?” Eddie spat the boy's name like it was venom on his tongue.

“Nah, we didn’t really know Steve back then. Although I wasn’t surprised to see him with Dustin here. They’re kind of a package deal these days.”

“I mean, I knew him and Dustin were friends but I didn’t know you guys were…uh…”

“Eddie Munson…are you jealous?” you teased.

Deny. Deny. Deny. Eddie thought.

“Yes.”

 The realization made your face slowly melt into shock. “Oh.”

You were used to the flirtatious teasing in your friendship but Eddie seemed more serious than he’s ever been. Your eyes scanned Eddie’s face, searching for any sign of sarcasm, but you came up empty.

“He’s not really my type, you know.”

Eddie's eyes widened in surprise. "He's not?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. "Steve is a great guy and a good friend, but he's like the older brother I never knew I needed. Besides he’s not a metalhead, he hates Dungeons and Dragons, he doesn’t know how to play guitar, his hair is great but definitely too crunchy with the amount of hairspray-”

Before you could say anything else, Eddie leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It was sudden, unexpected, and completely wonderful. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly closed them, losing yourself in the moment.

When you both finally pulled away, Eddie was beaming, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief. 

You duck your head slightly and giggle, “sorry, I haven’t brushed my teeth in a while.”

Eddie shakes his head and smiles fondly at you, “sweetheart, I’ve been waiting too long for this to let that stop me.” He grabs the sides of your head to give you another kiss, leaning back with a dramatic shmack as you parted. “I even gave up eating tree nuts all together in case this day ever came.”

He leaned in again only for you to pull away, “What?” you asked in disbelief.

“What? Is that weird? Oh god, I’m so sorry-” 

Before Eddie could panic any further, you hooked your fingers into his pick necklace and pulled him towards you. This time you were the one to cut him off with a kiss that soon morphed into a teasing smile.

When you parted Eddie’s eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape as you said, “God Eddie, you’re so in love with me.”

the end.

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies @wickedscorpio22 @chaoticgood-munson

[himexyandere]

Yandere Headcanons Pt. 2

Content Warning(s): Obsessive behavior, malpractice, gaslighting, manipulation, drugging

A/N: These are just more yandere HC's that I thought of and wanted to post ^^ I haven't written anything here for a while, so I figured I'd post something! Not sure what my next post will be, honestly, I'll probably do a poll and ask what you guys would like to see. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! <3

Yandere!Doctor who keeps you in his hospital by occasionally slipping different harmless drugs into your meals that makes you a little lightheaded and exhibit signs of being feverish, thus extending your visit.

Had someone told you that you would be staying for a bit at a hospital with your favorite doctor, you probably would’ve been elated to hear such a thing!

That wasn’t necessarily the case, however — yes, he was your favorite doctor and he’d always called you his “star patient” when the two of you were alone, but you weren’t exactly a huge fan of hospitals 

Staying for more than a week was already too much for you, yet he still wouldn’t let you leave 

“My dear, you may not think your symptoms are worrying, but they certainly are. A fever that comes and goes at random is nothing to treat lightly. I will be extending your stay until you feel better.” 

During your first week, a male nurse was the one who came to bring you your food and medicine, occasionally striking up casual conversations with you to help you feel more comfortable in such a quiet, sterile place 

After another week or so, you hadn’t seen him again. Confused, you asked your doctor where the nurse went and he gave you a seemingly perturbed frown 

“I’m sorry, dear, but we had to let him go. One of the other nurses found him assaulting a comatose patient. Terrible, isn’t it? I’m just glad he’s gone now and is no longer a danger to anyone… Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Had a month gone by already? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your doctor was the only one who visited your room, stating that visitation was on hold for a while due to some issue or another—

He’s the doctor so why would you question him? He only wants what’s best for his “star patient”, after all

You were originally in for a small health scare at work, but now…

Yandere!Househusband who clings to you, slightly causing a bit of concern amongst your friends and family, but you feel like his clinginess is normal... At first.

He acted like the two of you were still a newlywed couple or something 

He always, always, always craves your attention, wanting to be close to you whenever feasible

This meant that leaving home to go to your job every morning was a nearly impossible feat, considering he rarely ever let you escape his arms (at least not without some bribery first) 

“If you promise to spend the entire weekend with me here in our home, then I’ll let you leave for work. How’s that sound, darling?” 

This was a common occurrence, leading you to spend most, if not all, of your free time cuddling up with your husband at home, watching corny movies and eating snacks. 

Your friends and family started seeing less and less of you, prompting them to call and visit your home more often with questions about where you’ve been. You always tell them that you’re fine and you’ve just been spending some time relaxing with your hubby 

He was delighted by your replies and would later tell you after they left that he loves you so, so much 

He does get anxious at times, though, wondering constantly if you’re annoyed with him or if you secretly hate his clinginess and overwhelming adoration

After you told him that you would be going to hang out with your friends one evening, he nearly lost it in front of you. Fortunately, he managed to maintain a gentle smile as he encouraged you to go and have a good time 

When you got back later that night, your husband informed you that he’d scheduled a getaway for your upcoming anniversary! He’s already called your job and put in for PTO, so you don’t have to worry your little head—you’re going to have so much fun… Just the two of you.

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: 18+ content, dry humping?, sexual language, cursing, angst, inexperienced reader, virgin reader.

Authors note: Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long for the update I was studying for exams and what not but I hope you guys enjoy sorry if it seems a little rushed this is my first series so I’m slowly learning! Feel free to inbox me for whatever! <3 this was also a little Lana inspired I just love her so much and I feel like her music matches Billy’s vibe so well.

Chapter 3: Just Ride.

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He gradually emerged from the depths of unconsciousness, his senses assaulted by the incessant beeping of machines, the sterile brightness of the overhead lights, and the icy tendrils of cold air wrapping around him. With a heavy groan, he blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings.

A strong smell of disinfectant lingered in the air.

The hospital?

As he tried to rise, a sharp twinge from his lower ribs forced a hiss of pain from his lips, halting his movement abruptly. And a strong pounding in his head distracted him from moving any further.

"Hey, Billy, I'm Nurse Janet," a woman in pink scrubs greeted him. "How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

Is she blind?

"Fuck yeah, my head's killing me, and I can't sit up," Billy muttered bluntly, causing the older woman to cringe at his choice of language.

Billy shut his eyes against the glare of the lights and massaged his temples, trying to dull the throbbing pain in his head.

“You have a concussion and a few broken ribs, can you recall what happened tonight?” She asked.

Yeah, Neil really fucked up.

"Not really, no," he lied. Despite his hatred for his father, a small part of him still felt the need to protect him. The nurse looked at him sympathetically. "The doctor will be here shortly. For now, just try to relax," she said, giving him a warm smile before exiting the room.

You’re gonna be okay.

He remembered hearing a voice, he was probably hallucinating but the voice was sweet, soft, and comforting. Maybe it was his guardian angel, but he wasn't about to confess that to the nurses; they'd likely send him in for a psych evaluation.

Bits and pieces of tonight's events flashed through his mind. He recalled finally standing up to Neil, but his memory of the confrontation was hazy at best. All he can hear echoing back and fourth in his head was the fear in max’s voice.

“Get off of him!”

His gut churned at the thought, for he had once experienced that same fear when it was his mother at the mercy of Neil's hands.

Guilt consumed him once again, he looked up at the ceiling tears pricking the inner corner of his blue eyes.

God, what an aggravating feeling.

He was exhausted from the weight of guilt, he was tired of feeling. Maybe if his mom would’ve took him with her, maybe if he stayed in California, maybe he would be different.

Maybe.

The door of his hospital room opened, creaking slightly. A man in a white coat, presumably his doctor, entered, accompanied by two police officers.

Billy felt a slight panic, although he hadn't done anything wrong. His heart rate started to pick up through the monitors.

"Billy, it's all right. This is Chief Jim Hopper," the doctor reassured, motioning towards the tall man. "He's one of the best officers I know and he wants to talk about tonight,”

"Hey kid, I’m J—" Billy cut him off before he could finish, "I know who you are. I have a concussion, not a mental impairment," he snapped defensively. "You can't speak to me unless an adult is present."

Jim swallowed back whatever sarcastic remark was about to spill out of him and took a deep breath,

"You're 18, kid. I'm allowed to speak to you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions," Jim sighed carefully, hoping to gain the boy's trust with his measured tone.

The doctor left the room allowing them space to talk.

“Had some really rough sex, mind was hazy after it and I ran into a door” Billy spat, blatantly lying through his teeth. It was a terrible lie but it was the first thing that came to his brain, his concussion was preventing him from coming up with a better one.

Jim let out a chuckle, his amusement evident, while the other officer couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Running into a door isn't going to give you a grade two concussion and broken ribs," he remarked, with a tone that conveyed both skepticism and exasperation at Billy's attempt to deceive them.

"It was a really hard door," Billy retorted, annoyance creeping into his voice at the one going conversation. “And it was really rough sex, you’d think I was killing her with the noises she was making but I promise, she was enjoying every inch of me,” Billy’s said voice dripping with arrogance.

Jim and officer Callahan exchanged a glance before returning their attention to him.

"Just ask my neighbor; she had front-row seats. She'll tell you," Billy said, his voice smug with confidence.

Although Jim felt for the boy, his patience was wearing thin. "Oh, you mean Y/N? Yeah, she's right outside with your sister, scared half to death. I heard she was screaming at the nurses to be careful with you. Poor girl almost lost her mind seeing you like this," Jim said, his tone tinged with slight frustration.

"She's the one who brought you here, you know. You were knocked out cold in her embrace," Jim said, studying the way Billy's features fell.

His smug expression vanished instantly, replaced by guilt. But he quickly scoffed, putting up his usual dickhead facade to cover it up.

“Listen, kid, we already got statements from your stepmother and your sister. I know your father’s been putting his hands on you for years. We need to know if you have any idea where he might be,” he said with a serious tone.

“You’re arresting him!?” Billy asked in disbelief,

"Should we not?" Officer Callahan said, more as a statement than a question.

Billy looked down at his bruised hands, the same ones that collided with his father's face a little while ago, and started to contemplate life without Neil, life without another parent. He could no longer maintain his facade, he’s felt too much, been through too much, it was cracking. The lonely little boy he’d been his whole life was slipping through the cracks.

"I'll have no one," Billy said, a knot forming in his throat, the weight of loneliness settling heavily upon him.

Jim walked over to the side of his bed and kneeled, “You have three women in that waiting room worried sick about you, I know two of those women personally and they are fighters, they love with every fiber in their body,” Jim said looking at the California boy who reminded him of himself at his age.

He knew you? And max? Surely he wasn’t talking about Susan.

"You have them, and you have me whenever you need it, kid... you just need to try," Jim added, encouraging Billy to lean on their support and make an effort to move forward.

Billy hardly knew you. But the glances, seeing you every morning, watching you in the halls at school, you watching him, he felt a strong pull from you, excitement, a connection, one that scared him. This feeling, this thing was only something he’d see in cheesy movies, shitty romcoms.

“He might be somewhere in the city, but he’ll be back. He’s not leaving without his shit… or maybe he will, who knows.”

Jim nodded, stood up, and patted his shoulder. “We’ll be on the lookout. For now, I’ll have an officer parked outside your house just in case he comes back.”

.

Hop exited the room and headed towards you and Max. Susan left to lock up both your house and hers, since you both forgot to do so earlier, given the circumstances

"He's a smart ass," Hop muttered. "But he's going to be okay physically. He might need a little time to adjust to what's going to happen from here on out, but he has you two, and I made it clear that he had me to talk to as well.

"Yeah, sounds like Billy," Max said, rolling her eyes. “Thanks Hop.” Despite it all, she felt content; her brother was going to be okay, even if it took time. With Neil out of the picture, she held onto hope—for Billy, for their relationship.

He was definitely shitty to her, but Billy did care for her, and she cared for him, at least a part of him. There were times when Neil and her mom argued, and Billy would offer her solace in his own way. He’d take her to the arcade, for burgers, but they never really talked. It was evident they struggled to bond with each other. He was angry that his father met Susan, which was the reason he left California; he blamed her and her mother. However, what Billy didn’t know was she resented him for that same reason.

Max thought that in California, they’d both be safe. She wouldn’t have to face the trauma of encountering interdimensional monsters or deal with Neil’s presence. She wouldn’t witness her mother losing herself to him, or observe Billy’s escalating anger day by day. It felt like everyone was losing themselves in that house. Neil was like Vecna, sucking the life out of people, but not swiftly—rather, in an agonizingly slow manner.

“Can we see him yet?” Max asked.

Hop nodded. “Yeah, I’ll catch up with you two later. I’ve got an asshole to catch.”

.

You and Max slowly entered the room, Billy was staring up at the ceiling lost in thought, his head snapped towards you two when he realized you both came in, he tried sitting up again but the pain he felt was a reminder of the condition he was in.

Max walked towards the front of his bed and you followed right behind her.

“Hey,” Max greeted slowly, “How are you feeling?” Billy looked at her with annoyance as if it wasn’t obvious, “Oh I’m just great Max, feeling like a million bucks,” he said sarcastically.

Max rolled her eyes huffing in annoyance.

“You know you should be thanking us, asshole, we’re the ones who practically carried your ass here,” you spat chiming in, “And you’re not exactly light.” Max added.

Billy’s features softened, and for the first time in a long time, he set his pride aside. “Thank you, Max… I’m sorry you had to see that,” Billy spoke, his voice filled with sympathy.

Your heart broke for them both. Max was such a compassionate soul, and despite whatever barrier Billy had built around his heart, he climbed out of it from time to time for her.

Max nodded and smiled. “I’m just glad you’re okay, shit head. You scared the shit out of me, out of us,” she said, looking over at you.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than Neil Hargrove to take me out,” he replied, his tone smug.

Billy then glanced at you, feeling his heart start to race. God, you were breathtaking. Despite the fatigue evident in your appearance, it only added to your beauty.

Max noticed the way you two looked at each other, and felt as if she was interrupting something.

“Yeah…” max trailed, “I’m gonna go get snacks from the food court, I’ll be back later.” And with that she left, leaving both you and him alone for the first time in what felt like a long time.

You looked at him the same way he looked at you—admiring his beauty, his tough exterior, which only made him more intriguing. Despite his bruised eye and cut lip, he remained mesmerizing. On the way to the hospital, in the back seat of his car, you gently brushed aside the single curls of hair that fell on his face, wishing you could do the same now.

Wait. Back seat of his car? Oh my god the backseat of his car!

You then twisted your face in disgust, “God!” You said in realization, “I sat in the back seat of your car, where you fucked Tina!

Billy struggled to contain his laughter, knowing that doing so would only increase his pain.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shouted angrily. “Ugh, I need to drown myself in disinfectant tonight, damn the consequences,” you huffed.

You glared at him, but a giggle escaped your lips when you noticed him wincing in pain. "Yeah, keep laughing, Hargrove. I'll be right here," you said as you pulled a chair next to his bed, "enjoying every ounce of pain that laughter gives you."

Billy rolls his eyes, the playfulness leaving them before being placed with seriousness.

“I, um,” Billy struggled to get the words out, “T-thank you for helping Max and getting me here.” Before you could respond, he continued, “A-and I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve that. I was just…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad, he’s an asshole. He seemed to like you, or at least acted like he did. He’s a damn narcissist, probably did it just to piss me off... Anyway, I lashed out and took it out on you and him. I guess I wanted to piss you both off.”

Billy kept taking deep breaths, you can tell he was struggling, like he wasn’t used to explaining himself or even apologizing. Before he could speak again, you placed your hand over his bruised one gently.

“Billy it’s okay, I understand. I have a pretty clear idea of what goes on in your house, what’s been going on with your father, I’ve been through it too once…” you sighed as his blue ocean eyes bore into your saddened expression, “My mom… she was a bully. She would strip me of my humanity with her words. I was a bitch for a while... I was like a exactly like her, God, I was so awful Billy,” you said as you looked at him through teary eyes, “So I understand.” Billy looked at you with love, understanding now why he felt so drawn to you. You reminded him of himself, but he saw the good within you—the good he hoped to find within himself. Even if it meant putting in the work to mend his heart, he was willing to do it. He needed to do it, for Max, Susan, and for himself. After all they were his only family.

You and Billy sat like that for a while, eventually ending up intertwining your hands. You felt flustered by him, despite him being in a hospital bed. Together, you shared laughs and occasional smiles, enjoying each other’s company. Max eventually came back munching loudly on her snacks, gagging at the two of you, irritating Billy with her sarcasm and with how loud she was chewing. You couldn’t help but laugh, realizing she’d gotten her sarcasm from him. You could get used to this and the warmth that spread through your body filled you with hope.

A few weeks later…

Hawkins Sheriff’s Department focused their efforts on finding Neil, especially since Hawkins was a small town and there seemed to be little else happening besides neighborhood complaints about trivial matters.

Neil returned a few days after Billy was released from the hospital. An undercover car, hidden on his street, swooped in and arrested him just before he could set foot on the porch. That night, you, Max, and Susan comforted Billy, reminding him that he still had a family.

Billy was introduced to the gang the following night to get his mind off things. You threw a little get together at your house. They were all wary, given their past interactions with him, especially Steve. Throughout the night, they exchanged glances. Billy felt sorry; he just couldn’t find the words for Steve. However, he grabbed him a beer, attempting to find some common ground, and Steve accepted. Surprisingly, he and Eddie clicked over their common taste in music. If Eddie could accept that Steve and he had become friends, there was room for one more. Meanwhile, Robin and Nancy chuckled at how smitten you and Billy were, teasing you both about it. Jonathan was cool about it like he was about everything, I think given everything that’s happened this year he had no room for judgments or criticism; he was over it and extremely high out of his mind.

Despite everything, Billy was healing emotionally. He had already recovered swiftly from the injuries he endured from his father, and now everything was slowly falling into place.

Now.

“Y/n let’s go! We’re losing light!” Billy screamed from the driver seat of his car repeatedly honking his door. You huffed loudly and slammed the front door of your house locking the door behind you, “I’m coming GOD!” You yelled back, stomping towards the passenger seat.

You threw your bag of sunscreen and spare clothes through the passenger window, not caring whether it hit him or not, and settled into the passenger seat of his car. You couldn’t stand when he rushed you; it was the most annoying thing. “Jesus, are you ever patient?” you asked rhetorically. Billy was about to respond with a sarcastic comment until he saw what you were wearing. You reminded him of California sometimes. You were wearing a red bikini top with nothing covering the rest of your body, and some blue denim shorts. He tried so hard to keep from lunging at you and devouring every bit of your body.

He’d been doing this for the past few weeks, and it was flustering you more and more each day. You remembered one time you did his laundry. He was gawking at you as you picked up his clothes that were scattered all over his room, making things easier for him since he couldn’t really move given his injuries. He thought you looked like a housewife, his housewife, and it aroused him profoundly.

He teased you about it, and he was very blunt about how he felt. It was infuriating because you actually enjoyed it.

Billy was glad he had planned today just for the two of you. The sun was shining brightly, and Lovers Lake seemed like the perfect place to cool off and relax. Recently, you two had only been around friends—Max, or Max and Susan. He hadn’t been able to spend time alone with you since that night.

After settling in and buckling up, you noticed the car still wasn’t moving. Glancing at Billy, you found him staring at you with an intense gaze, as if he was about to devour you. Your face flushed a deep red as you crossed your legs. “We’re losing light,” you mumbled, attempting to tease him, but you failed miserably. However, you successfully snapped him out of his trance. He licked his lips and chuckled, putting the car in drive and taking off.

You couldn’t help but stare either. Billy was wearing a muscle shirt, showcasing his buff arms, along with some swim shorts. His hair was styled perfectly, as usual, with a single curl falling onto his forehead against his beautiful tan skin. As he held a cigarette in his mouth and drove, butterflies fluttered in your belly.

Metallica blared through the radio as you two drove with the windows down, feeling the warm air on your skin. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling, savoring the moment. It almost felt surreal that you were sitting in his car right now, like something out of one of your romance novels.

“Dammit!” Billy groaned in frustration. “Forgot my fucking lighter.” You rolled your eyes and assured him he’d survive a couple of hours without a lighter. With Billy’s frustration, you noticed the vehicle starting to accelerate more, getting faster and faster. Your belly started to jump with the increasing speed, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins as Billy’s car felt like a roller coaster. He looked over at you with admiration, recognizing that same feeling, prompting him to go faster on the empty road. You stuck your body out the window, relishing the speed of the car and the harsh wind hitting your face. You felt free, out of this world free. Not a care in the world, just you and a beautiful boy speeding down a ghost town, or rather, a hell town, you might say.

“Fuck you, Hawkins!” you screamed, with Billy joining you in whooping with excitement at the top of his lungs.

You sat back in your seat and looked over to Billy, who was smiling with his foot still pressing on the gas. He started to slow the car down, but you couldn’t help but continue staring. He looked over to you, “You liked that, huh?” he asked, glancing at the tightening of your thighs. The adrenaline rush of it all was enough to get you excited down there, and his presence only intensified the feeling.

You bit your lip and looked over at his. He placed a hand on your thigh, causing your breath to hitch. “Is this okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah, s’fine,” you responded, taking a deep breath.

Billy took pride in the nervousness he caused in you; it excited him.

He kept driving, but his hand now started moving up and down your thigh. Your heart started to race, and the warmth between your legs began to spread. You weren’t being dramatic; you were touch-deprived for God’s sake, and you’ve never made it past second base with anyone.

He then moved his hand higher up your thigh and squeezed tightly, eliciting a slight moan from you. You looked over at Billy, his face filled with awe, while yours was flustered, as if you were in discomfort, eagerly awaiting his touch to ease the pressure building inside you.

“Stop the car,” you said, out of breath, face hotter than the sun.

“But we’re 3 minutes away—” Billy began, but you cut him off.

“Billy, I don’t give a shit, stop the car!”

With that, he pulled off to the side of the road, removing his hand from your thigh as he put the vehicle in park.

Before he could turn to ask what was wrong, you lunged over the center console at him, unable to contain yourself any longer, and kissed him. You grabbed the sides of his face, and it was a passionate kiss that you held for a moment. Then, as you were about to pull away, he took advantage of the slight opening of your mouth and shoved his tongue inside, grabbing the back of your head and adding incredible pressure and pleasure to the kiss. You both fought for dominance, but he won every time. You were in heaven, and the warmth between your legs was becoming harder to contain.

He stopped the kiss for a moment,

“Climb in my lap,” he said through the clashing of your tongues, slightly out of breath, and you obliged, legs going over the center console as you straddled his lap. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as you thought, and you felt some of the pressure down there relieved as you settled.

Your eyes then went wide as you felt something poking at the denim of your shorts causing Billy to chuckle. You then looked down and seen the outline of his hard cock that was straining in his swim shorts.

He bucked his hips slightly into yours, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from both of you. “Can we keep doing that?” you asked shyly, not wanting him to stop.

“Before we dive into this, there’s something I gotta ask.”

You nodded your head, signaling him to ask his question, while both your hands rested on his face.

“You ever been touched, pretty girl?” Billy asked, his voice rough, as he brushed the hair falling over your face behind your ear.

“I—” you sighed nervously. You felt embarrassed. Everyone your age seemed to be having sex or had some type of experience. Robin and Nancy always talked about their experiences, you loved hearing their stories and always hoped you’d experience the same one day. But, the boys you made out with never did it for you, so second base, making out, was all you knew. They’d try to touch you, but you’d never budge. It wasn’t exciting, thrilling, or intimate; it was just plain boring.

You weren’t an idiot you knew what happened during sex and everything that led up to it you’ve just never taken it to the next level.

“S’okay, baby. You can tell me; I won’t judge,” he spoke, now caressing your face, which was hot to the touch.

“No. I’ve only ever made out with a few people but I’ve never made it past that,” you said looking away,

“Hey, look at me,” Billy said. “Look at me, Y/N… I’m gonna show you everything you’ve been missing if you let me.” His hands moved down your sides. “We can take it slow, and then we’ll build our way up. How does that sound?” Billy’s asked voice smooth like honey.

You nodded furiously, excitement building in your belly.

“Good. Now take these off,” he said unbuttoning your denim shorts, “I need you in just your bikini bottoms.” You obliged opening the drivers door quickly hopping out to take off your shorts, then hopped right back in straddling Billy’s lap once again.

The pressure felt different this time, you almost moaned at the contact because it was much more intense as you felt the outline of his cock on your pussy.

You let out shaky breaths as he put his hands on your hips, pushing you down to apply pressure on his throbbing cock. “I’m assuming you’ve never had your big O either, hmm?” he asked. You furrowed your eyes in confusion at his question and tilted your head to the side.

“An orgasm?” Billy spoke again. Your eyes lit up at the familiar word. Robin had told you all about the extraordinary feeling, but you’ve never come close to experiencing it.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, finally understanding what he was talking about, but your expression shifted to a frown. “No, never,” you mumbled.

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart, baby,” he said as he guided your hips to grind up, then down his clothed length. “Ah, shit,” you cursed as you grabbed at his muscle shirt, almost tearing it off with how hard you were gripping. “That’s okay,” he cooed. “I’m gonna have so much fun with you, darling,” he rasped against your ear, licking at it.

A big part of him found comfort in the fact that no one else’s hands had touched you but his own, knowing that no one else could make you feel the way he did. The mere thought of anyone else touching you drove him to the edge of insanity. He was possessive, and he couldn’t help it.

The sensation you felt was otherworldly. It felt as though your body was craving this, yearning for this level of attention. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, like tiny electric shocks. Billy locked his deep blue eyes with yours, his mouth slightly agape. You couldn’t fathom how he was finding pleasure in this, but he did. His face flushed slightly, and he emitted small grunts as you took charge of your movements. Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in and shared a sloppy, passionate kiss with him. The mutual fervor intensified your arousal, and you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he guided your pace.

“That feel good, sweetheart? You like that?” He grunted through the sloppy kiss. You kept going like that for a few seconds, then Billy slipped his hands down, ghosting your clit with his fingers, and pulled your bikini to the side roughly. Your bare pussy was now grinding on his clothed member. “Fuck, you’re killing me, Y/N. You’re dripping through my shorts,” he said in a low grunt.

“Ah, feels so good, Billy, feels amazing,” you whined, your eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation. It was incredible. Your wet folds were soaking through Billy’s shorts.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Billy groaned into your mouth. Both your tongues explored eagerly, creating an intense heat. Drool dripped from your mouth, mingling with his, and you savored each other’s taste, lost in the moment.

Billy was on the edge, trying hard to control himself. You were driving him wild, completely absorbed in your own pleasure as you kissed him passionately. It was a new experience for him, seeing you like this, and he knew he would never forget it.

It was difficult for him to restrain himself from touching you, from speeding up the process and bringing you to orgasm faster. But he resisted, wanting you to explore and discover on your own, to use him as you pleased. He desired to corrupt you, to be the one to show you the way, to introduce you to pleasure. It felt selfish and sinful, but he wanted to be the one, and he always would be.

“Billy, I think… oh, fuck, I think I’m coming,” you whimpered as the knot tightened at your core. It was overwhelming, your movements becoming erratic, and Billy gripping your hips roughly as if he was about to burst too.

Billy then released one hand from your hip, cupping both cheeks with it, and forced you to look into his eyes as you unraveled. Your eyes screwed shut, and your hips stuttered with pleasure, drawing out a stream of curses from Billy’s mouth.

“Fuck, fuck,” Billy groaned as he shot a load into his swim shorts.

Your moans grew louder, and then the knot snapped. Your mind went black as waves of pleasure took over your body, riding out your first orgasm. Billy’s intense groans and moans added to the overwhelming sensation.

You collapsed onto his heaving chest, both of you needing to catch your breath.

There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it was filled with joy and hope. You both were still shocked that this had happened.

“Can we have sex now?” you said, out of breath, lifting your head a little from his chest and batting your lashes at him.

Billy chuckled, “Easy there, tiger. Remember, we’re taking it slow. Don’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, gently brushing the back of your soft hair with his hand.

“Is it always like that?” you asked curiously. “Do you feel like this with other people? Is it always this intense and earth-shattering?”

Billy pondered for a moment. He knew the answer; he just couldn’t believe it. He had came in his pants from just your grinding. It was unbelievable.

“Nah,” Billy responded. “It’s never like this. It’s us. It’s you.”

You blushed and buried your face into the crook of his neck, feeling warm inside. You were excited to explore this world of pleasure together.

“Looks like we’ve lost light,” you giggled, poking his chest, your gaze drifting to the darkness outside.

“Yeah,” he smiled, remembering how he had hurried you out of the house. “We sure did.”

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@jennapancake @writethrough @callsignwidow @strlightfilms @empathyroad @moneyy-21 @fossface @t3n1 @learninglinesintherainn

Tags:

[mmilkbreadd]

—oh my god, they were roommates—

Previous || Masterlist

╰┈➤ when is my heart going to stop beating fast every time i see them?

╰┈➤ someone help me PLEASE.

╰┈➤ call a medic.

notes: tsukishima can’t handle his feelings like a big boy [yes, i ended this fic three years later, so?]

word count: 3.2k

[third and last part]

It’s been three months since the lights went out —when Tsukishima discovered your eyes were stars burning brightly in the night.

Three months where you hadn’t even exchanged anything but a few glances here and there.

Three months where he had definitely been avoiding you.

The three most uncomfortable months of your entire life (and it wasn’t because of the apartment that you were living in; in fact, it was by far the loveliest and calmest place you had ever slept in).

Yet, why was sharing an apartment such a difficult relationship?

But still, did you even have a relationship? A friendship, at least?

Companionship…?

You weren’t even sure what that word meant! But it certainly wasn’t what your ‘rommate-ship’ was about. Besides, you couldn’t point out when it had changed —the ‘lights out incident’ was just a funny anecdote to you: a way to remember some of your first days at your new home.

On the contrary, to Tsukishima, it was as his life had taken a huge turn: a wave of feelings had suddenly hit his heart. His emotions fluttered as he was a hormonal teenager in love. But Kei was never one of the popular jocks who had every person falling for him —he had a few students following him around during his high school days, but they were never that serious—, therefore he had never felt what having feelings for someone meant.

He felt weird around you, like he was making a fool out of himself every time you shared the same air, the same room, the same bathroom! He was out of words whenever you asked him how his day had been.

Him! The Tsukishima Kei! Who would’ve thought? Not even Yamaguchi Tadashi would’ve, to be honest.

Tsukishima didn’t know what to do anymore. His palms were always sweaty, his minds constantly occupied with thoughts about you —he used to be so serious about volleyball practice, but it was completely difficult to concentrate when he knew that he would have to come back to meet you in the apartment! He made so many mistakes during matches that his coach even thought about benching him for a few games afterwards.

So, three months after the lights went out, he made a decision: he was moving in with Tadashi for a few days until his heart calmed down.

His best friend’s apartment was too tiny to fit them both. But a place on the couch had Tsukishima’s name in it and he didn’t bother sleeping on it —even if it was half his size.

And there he was: bag at his feet; baseball cap on his head; mobile phone with three missing calls from his pretty roommate; and his right index finger was pressing the doorbell, repeatedly.

The door opened only to show Yamaguchi wearing his baby blue pajamas; his hair, a tangled mess.

“It’s six in the morning,” he stated the obvious. “What’s going on?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Tsukishima simply said as his best friend moved to the left to let him in.

“So, you decided to pack a bag and just… come over?” Yamaguchi asked after closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, Tsukki, but I just don’t believe you at all.”

Tsukishima slowly made his way to the small green couch in the center of the living room area. He sat on the left side as his eyes took in his newest home.

A big plasma T.V stood in front of him, along with a coffee table cluttered with magazines, video game controllers, and a few empty snack wrappers. Yamaguchi's apartment was cozy but undeniably lived-in, unlike the sterile cleanliness of Tsukishima’s place.

Yamaguchi sighed, rubbing his eyes before sitting down next to Tsukishima. “Alright, spill it. What’s really going on?”

Tsukishima hesitated, looking down at his hands. He wasn’t good at this—talking about feelings. But he needed to get this off his chest. “It’s my roommate.”

Yamaguchi raised an eyebrow. “The one you’ve barely talked about? What’s wrong with them?”

Tsukishima took a deep breath. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know. It’s just… every time I’m around them, I feel like I can’t think straight. It’s affecting everything, even volleyball.”

Yamaguchi leaned back, a small smile forming on his lips. “Ah, I see. You like them.”

Tsukishima’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What? No, that's not—

“Tsukki, you’re not fooling anyone. Not even yourself,” Yamaguchi interrupted gently. “It's written all over your face. You like them, and it’s driving you crazy.”

Tsukishima groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don't know what to do, Tadashi. I can't keep living like this.”

Yamaguchi patted his friend's shoulder. “You need to talk to them. Maybe they feel the same way.”

“I can’t," Tsukishima said firmly. “I don't want to make things awkward. It’s bad enough as it is.”

“Then you need to find a way to deal with it,” Yamaguchi said. “Running away isn’t going to help.”

Tsukishima knew he was right. But the thought of confronting his feelings, and you, was terrifying. “I just need some time away. To clear my head.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Alright, you can stay here for a few days. But promise me you’ll talk to them eventually. You can't avoid this forever.”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima muttered, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. For now, he just wanted to escape the turmoil inside him, even if it was only temporary.

As he settled onto the couch, Tsukishima couldn't help but wonder what you were doing right now. Were you worried about him? Angry? Did you even notice he was gone? He pushed the thoughts away, closing his eyes and trying to find some semblance of peace in the midst of his chaotic emotions.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, you were pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You had noticed Tsukishima’s absence immediately. It was hard not to when the apartment felt so empty without him.

You had called him three times already, each time more frantic than the last. Where could he have gone so early in the morning? And why hadn't he told you?

The morning stretched into afternoon, and Tsukishima remained at Yamaguchi’s apartment, wrestling with his thoughts while Yamaguchi went about his daily routines. The quiet hum of the television played in the background as Tsukishima sat on the couch, lost in contemplation.

Then the afternoon became night, then morning again. And suddenly, two days passed without further notice.

You sat down on the couch, staring at your phone. Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe he just needed some space. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Three months had passed since the ‘lights out’ incident, and in that time, you had grown accustomed to Tsukishima's presence, even if he was distant and aloof. There was something comforting about knowing he was there, in the next room or sharing a meal in the kitchen.

You had tried to break through his walls, to get to know the person behind the cold exterior. But it seemed like every time you made progress, he would retreat even further. It was frustrating, but you were determined to be patient.

As you sat there, you realized just how much you missed him. His snarky comments, his occasional smirks, even the awkward silences. It was all part of the strange, complicated dynamic that had formed between you.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that when Tsukishima returned, you would confront him. You would tell him how you felt and hope that he would finally open up to you.

“What if something happened to him?” you muttered to yourself, biting your lip anxiously. You knew Tsukishima was independent and capable, but the fear of the unknown nagged at you.

Finally, unable to sit still any longer, you grabbed your keys and rushed out the door. Maybe he had gone for a walk to clear his head, or perhaps he was at a nearby cafe. You had to find him, to make sure he was okay.

As you walked down the familiar streets, you replayed your interactions with Tsukishima in your mind. Despite his aloofness and occasional sharp words, you had noticed glimpses of something more beneath his tough exterior. There were moments when his guard seemed to lower, when he would share a small smile or a thoughtful comment.

But now, faced with his sudden disappearance, you wondered if you had missed something important. Had you pushed too hard, too fast? Were you the reason he had left?

Lost in your thoughts, you almost missed the familiar figure sitting alone on a bench in the park. Tsukishima sat with his head bowed, staring at his phone with a troubled expression.

Relief flooded through you as you approached him cautiously. “Kei,” you called softly, unsure of how he would react.

He looked up, surprised to see you there. His expression softened slightly, but there was still tension in his posture. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been worried about you,” you admitted, standing in front of him. “You left without saying anything. Are you okay?”

What the hell? What’s going on with me? Tsukishima thought. Say something!

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away. “I was at Tadashi’s, and then I came to get some air. He lives ten blocks from here.”

“I understand,” you said gently, sitting down beside him. “But you could have told me. I was really worried. It’s been two days.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn't mean to cause you any concern.”

“Tsukishima,” you started, gathering your thoughts. “We've been living together for three months now, and... I feel like we barely know each other. I want to understand what's going on with you, but you keep pushing me away.”

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. “Am I supposed to be sorry?” he murmured. “It wasn’t my intention or anything.”

Yeah, right.

As you listened to Tsukishima’s response, frustration and hurt welled up inside you. His dismissive tone and lack of remorse grated on your nerves, making it difficult to hold back your emotions.

“You don’t have to apologize, Tsukishima,” you replied, your voice tinged with disappointment. “But a simple ‘I’m sorry for worrying you’ would have sufficed.”

He looked away, a hint of guilt flashing across his face before it was replaced by his usual aloof demeanor. “Oh, forgive me for not realizing I needed to report my every move to you,” he retorted sarcastically.

“Maybe not to you,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin. “But to me, it was. I care about you, even if you don’t seem to care about how your actions affect me.”

You felt a pang of hurt at Tsukishima’s cold response, his words cutting deeper than you expected. His aloof demeanor and sharp tongue were nothing new, but somehow, this stung more than usual.

“We’re not even friends, [Y/N],” he continued, his tone chillingly matter-of-fact. “We’re roommates. We don’t have to get along, it wasn’t on the contract.”

His dismissiveness struck a nerve, and you struggled to contain your emotions. “You’re right,” you replied, your voice steady despite the hurt bubbling inside you. “We’re roommates, but that doesn’t mean we can’t treat each other with basic respect.”

Tsukishima scoffed lightly, crossing his arms defensively. “Respect? Spare me the lecture, please.”

“You know what?” you said, your frustration simmering to the surface. “Maybe I expected too much. Maybe I thought there was more to you than this sarcastic facade. But clearly, I was wrong.”

He glanced at you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “You don’t know anything about me,” he retorted sharply.

“Then why don’t you tell me?” you challenged, your voice tinged with both anger and sadness. “Why don’t you let me in instead of pushing me away at every turn?”

Tsukishima looked away, his jaw tightening as if grappling with his own emotions. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, which was rare for someone usually so quick-witted.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he muttered finally, his voice quieter than before.

“Try me,” you urged softly, your frustration giving way to genuine concern. “I want to understand, Kei. I want to know why you’re like this.”

He met your gaze then, his eyes guarded yet holding a hint of vulnerability. “Because it’s easier,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier than letting people in and risking getting hurt.”

Your heart ached at his confession, the walls he had built suddenly making sense. “But that’s no way to live,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. “Closing yourself off from everyone… It’s lonely, isn’t it?”

Tsukishima hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “But that’s a me problem. I don’t need your help nor words of encouragement.”

You paused, taken aback by Tsukishima’s sharp rebuttal. His words stung, cutting through the fragile moment of vulnerability he had just shared. The raw honesty of his admission had felt like a crack in his armor, a glimpse of the person buried beneath the sarcasm and aloofness.

“I understand,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “But sometimes, we all need someone to lean on, even if it’s just a little.”

Tsukishima glanced up at you, his expression guarded once more. “I don’t lean on anyone,” he stated firmly. “I manage on my own.”

Your heart sank at his insistence on pushing you away. “You don’t have to face everything alone, Kei,” you said gently, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. “Let me be there for you.”

He tensed under your touch, his gaze flickering with uncertainty. “Why do you even care?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and defensiveness.

“Because I see more in you than you see in yourself,” you replied honestly, meeting his eyes with unwavering sincerity. “And because despite everything, I care about you.”

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly, though his defenses remained intact. “You’re too persistent,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Then, I’ll cease,” you answered, saddened by his awful attitude. “I’ll be at home. Let me know if I have to start looking for another place to live, though.”

Tsukishima watched you live without even flinching. He saw your move from side to side, and deep inside, he desired for you to turn around. To come back, to beg for him. Was he always this selfish?

He should be the one to be for you, to be for your forgiveness. Three months with nothing but a few words. Three months of ignoring his roommate. Three months with an unnoticed suffering.

“That was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Yamaguchi, arriving from behind Tsukishima. “And I’ve seen you reject multiple people in high school with the most monotone voice and evilness.”

Tsukishima’s expression hardened again as he turned to face Yamaguchi. “I don’t need your commentary,” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration.

Yamaguchi crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Well, you clearly need something. What were you thinking, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I don’t know, okay? Everything’s just... complicated.”

“Complicated?” Yamaguchi echoed, shaking his head. “You like them, don't you?”

Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly at the blunt question. “What does it matter?” he deflected. “They deserve better than someone who doesn’t even know how to talk to them properly.”

Yamaguchi stepped closer, his tone softening. “Then tell them that. Tell them how you feel. It’s better than pushing them away and hurting them even more.”

Tsukishima looked down at his feet, the weight of his own insecurities bearing down on him. “I’ll just ruin it all over again. I hate this.” he mumbled.

Yamaguchi’s expression softened further, empathy clear in his eyes. “You’re not going to ruin anything by being honest,” he said gently. “You’re human, Tsukki. You’re allowed to have feelings and make mistakes.”

Tsukishima clenched his jaw, grappling with the swirling emotions inside him. His mind raced through the memories of the past three months—your late-night cleaning sessions, your disdain for cold breakfasts and black coffee, the way you immersed yourself in the volleyball magazines he left lying around, your eyes lighting up whenever you found his name mentioned.

The way your eyes sparkled with genuine interest and admiration—it was something he had never experienced before. Something he didn't know how to handle.

He couldn't help but recall the countless times he had caught himself staring at you, wondering what it would be like to be close to you, to share more than just a living space. But he had built walls around his heart, walls he thought were impenetrable.

Taking a deep breath, Tsukishima straightened his shoulders. He knew what he had to do, even if it terrified him. Yamaguchi was right—he couldn't keep pushing you away and hurting you. He needed to be honest, to take the risk, even if it meant exposing his vulnerability.

As he made his way back to the apartment, he replayed the conversation he wanted to have with you over and over in his mind. He practiced what he would say, how he would say it. But as he reached the door, all the rehearsed words seemed to evaporate.

Gathering his courage, he opened the door and stepped inside. You were sitting on the couch, looking lost in thought. Hearing the door, you looked up, surprise and apprehension flickering in your eyes.

“[Y/N], we need to talk,” Tsukishima said, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotion.

You nodded, sitting up straighter, bracing yourself for whatever was to come.

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice raw. “I’ve been pushing you away because… because I was scared. Scared of getting close to someone. Scared of getting hurt.”

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest.

“But the truth is,” Tsukishima continued, his voice softening, “I’ve come to care about you more than I ever thought possible. I’ve been hiding behind these walls, but I can’t do it anymore. I like you, [Y/N]. A lot. And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

Your eyes widened, tears threatening to spill over. “Kei… I…”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to try. I want to get to know you, to let you in. If you’ll give me a chance.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you smiled through it, the weight of the past three months lifting from your shoulders. “I’ve liked you too, Kei. Despite everything, I’ve always seen the good in you. And I want to give us a chance, too.”

Tsukishima let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. In that moment, the barriers he had built around his heart began to crumble, making way for something new, something hopeful.

If he was the moon, he hoped the stars would never leave his side again.

[blueberrybeomgyu]

୨⎯ "pretty sounds" ⎯୧ (lsh)

+*:🩷:*﹤descrip. : riwoo would let you do anything to him even if it terrifies him

+*:🌟:*﹤content : smut, sub!riwoo, dom!reader but she's nice, she could also be any gender (i think), handcuffs, very loose handjobbing lol, sounding

+*:🤎:*﹤warnings : 18+ mdni!!, smut (mdni), not a whole lot of realistic sounding representation going on here, i did my research but i left out a lot of key steps to sounding so DO YOUR RESEARCH, sex should be fun and safe methinks

+*:🍞:*﹤word count: 1.6K

+*:🎀:*﹤ a/n: my FIRST riwoo work!! I’m slowly getting down the line…somebody please match my freak…

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Riwoo would do anything for your beautiful smile and praising words. He’s always tended to hold back his noises in bed because they’re so embarrassing, but when you call them pretty and confess to him that they turn you on, it’s all he can do to let his mouth hang open during sex, let his pretty noises tumble out of his mouth unrestrained. 

Before he met you, he had never done anything more than typical, vanilla sex, but he lets you pull him into scenarios he would’ve never imagined, ones that often leave him wondering how the hell he got there. He realizes tonight is no different when you loop your pink handcuffs through the decorative bars of your headboard, then latch them onto his wrists. 

This isn’t new for the two of you. In fact, it has almost become a habit for you to restrain his hands, ‘cause he’s easily overwhelmed and will squirm away from your hold if given the chance, even if he doesn’t want you to stop touching him. Still, he tugs at the chain anyway, and breathes out a shaky, fearful sigh when it barely budges, when he realizes he can barely move his arms. 

His eyes are wide and searching for safety when he looks at you, and you coo at him, cup his cheeks, and press a sweet kiss against his pink lips.

“This is just so you don’t pull away and hurt yourself, okay, Riri?”

He nods, and reminds himself that you’re not here to hurt him. That you're going to take care of him like you always do, but it’s a little hard to remember as he eyes the rod you’re sterilizing.

Sounding. That’s the new thing you want to try out. He’d facepalm, but well, you know. His throat is dry and his words are failing him. He doesn’t even know what he wants to say, but he's just so scared. 

“I don’t- I don’t know about this, N/N. What if it, like, hurts?” He gulps when you come to straddle his thighs. Now he can’t move those either, and his hips only slightly jerk when you wrap your hand around his cock. He’s completely trapped.

“I won’t hurt you, sweetie.” You slide your hand up and down his length slowly and tsk when his hips try to twitch into the feeling. “I’ve done it before.”

Riwoo’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, and he’s momentarily distracted from the feeling of your hand on his dick. “What? You’ve done this before?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t put you through this if I wasn’t 100% confident. You’re too fragile for that.” He isn’t really sure if he should be thankful for your consideration or embarrassed by that statement. You stop stroking him and pick up the rod. It’s skinny and black, and has small ridges. Looking at it makes Riwoo’s blood run cold. “My ex seemed to like it. Just wanna know if you would, too.”

Riwoo’s skin itches at the mention of your fucked-up ex. He wants to do all the things you used to do with that scum, wants you to think about Riwoo instead when you think back on these kinds of things.

“But we don’t have to do this,” you say. “You can say no, and I’ll make you feel good in a different way.”

He thinks over your offer. He’s still terrified, but you’ve done it before. You won’t hurt him, you’re 100% sure. You want to see him, specifically, like this.

He squeezes his eyes shut and nods.

“Gotta use your words, Riri.”

“We can-,” his words cut off, and he gulps thickly. “We can do this. You can do this.” He says, because he trusts you so much, you could probably do anything to him. He watches as you spread lube around the sound, and his confidence falters.

“I-if I don't…like it, you'll stop?” He asks, hands clenching into fists against the headboard. You smile at him before leaning down to place another kiss on his lips. 

“If you don't like it, I'll stop immediately, okay?” 

He takes a deep breath, then nods again. You don’t wanna give him more time to overthink it, so you line the rod up with his opening. When he doesn’t say anything else, you ever so slowly slide the first two smooth centimeters in. 

Riwoo sucks in a breath, and his hips tremble, but they barely move under your weight. You wait a couple of seconds, then slide in two more centimeters. Riwoo hisses, and you stop. When you look up at him, his mouth is hanging open and his chest is rising and falling quickly. 

“How does this feel?” 

Riwoo tries to adjust to the feeling. You were right, it doesn’t hurt. It just feels kind of…heavy? And foreign, like it’s not supposed to be there, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s failing to see how it’s going to feel good, though.

“Talk to me, sweetie,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Feels…weird, confusing,” he whispers, and looks down to see the rod sticking out of his tip. He looks away almost immediately.

“Think you can take a little more?”

“I don't k-know, ‘s scary.” 

The remaining portion of the rod is ribbed. You rub his hip soothingly, then guide more of it in until it’s halfway sheathed. Riwoo lets out a small whimper that catches your attention. 

“Feels okay,” he answers breathlessly when you check in on him again. You pull the rod out just the tiniest bit and slide the length back in. He makes another tiny noise and his hips move just a bit under your weight.

“Riwoo, be still,” you warn, and his response is just a whine that's cut off when you rotate the rod, letting the ridges hit different areas of his insides. 

“Oh- Y/N, Y/N,” he chants out in a whispered tone, looking at you with big, wet eyes. You hum in response and slide more of the rod out this time. You wait a second before sliding it back in a little deeper than before.

“Feels g-good…” he trails off, and you smile at him again.

“Knew you’d like it, baby boy. You always make the prettiest sounds.” You pick up the pace, thrusting a little bit of the ribbed portion in and out of his opening, and the chain of the handcuffs clinks against the bed when Riwoo’s upper body jerks. You look up at him, but his eyes are squeezed shut now, and his mouth is open with a silent moan. He lets out a desperate, breathy noise when you twist the rod once more. 

“W-wait, wait,” he calls out, and you stop. 

“What's the matter, sweet thing?” You ask while trailing your nails down his waist. His stomach trembles and he gasps at the feeling, then he begins stuttering around a sentence.

“What i-if I…need to, y’know…” 

Even at a time like this, he’s shy, and it makes you laugh fondly. “What, cum?”

He nods. His cheeks are pink, his forehead is beading with sweat. He’s breathing harshly, and you figure he’s definitely not gonna last much longer.

“Just let me know, and I'll take it out.”

He nods and whimpers again when you start up the short, thrusting motions again. 

“Good, good,” he's mumbling repeatedly, eyes empty when you look at him. You smile at him and wrap a loose hand around his base. He starts shaking when you massage the area, and his fingers twitch uselessly. 

You keep both of your hands occupied with the motions, listening as Riwoo's noises raise in speed and pitch. You alternate between massaging his base and stroking his shaft, and when you look back at him, there's a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“Aw Riri,” you coo, and his eyes flutter open. “What's wrong?”

“I t-think I’m gonn-a,” he hiccups. “N-not gonna l-last.” 

You hum in thought. “Like it better than you thought you would, huh, baby boy?” 

You can slide a majority of the rod in and out at a steady pace now, and Riwoo gasps out harshly when you move your hand down to massage his balls instead.

“Out, please, I–,” he starts. A few more tears tumble down his skin, and his hair roughs up as he shakes his head against the pillows. “Can’t t-take it, gonna– need it out.”

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” you oblige and start pulling the rod out, but the process is slow, because you don't wanna hurt him. You twist the rod slowly, teasingly as it slides along, and Riwoo's stomach convulses.

“Please, please, please–” he babbles, and you shush his cries as you ease the rod out of his opening. A milky white stream follows it immediately, and your mouth runs dry at the sight. Riwoo whines, and his hips do their best to buck up into the air, shaking you lightly where you’re still straddling him. You climb off of his thighs and lean down to lick up the side of his wet shaft, and he's jerking away from your overwhelming touch.

“No, no– don't,” he begs, and you ease up with a smile.

“What did you think, Riri?” You ask as you unbuckle the handcuffs. You massage the red marks they left on his wrists. 

“Think you’re gonna be the death of me.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

a/n : i feel like this ends kind of abruptly, im sorry abt that!! please take aftercare seriously <3

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Wait: Genji Shimada x Reader

Fear.

That’s all that rushed through his person as he pushed past doors and people, muttering apologies in his native tongue as he launched himself around corners and down hallways.

Fear.

He could barely breathe. He couldn’t speak clearly, rambling under his tongue in cut off words and phrases. He made no sense.

Fear.

What was left of his human parts were coiled tightly, precise, not missing a single beat against the metal floor of the Overwatch base. Metal feet colliding against the hard metal floors like a rabid symphony, scratches and cracking and squeaking and scuffing. It truly bled the ears.

Fear.

He knew no longer of the monk’s words. The painful trials of learning patience and long grueling time of relearning how to feel again were thrown out the window.

Fear.

The heat coming off of his face blinded him, steaming up the faceplates covering his face. His face was red under the metal coverings. Wet too, from salty tears and dribbles of snot like he were some scared little child again.

Fear.

Fear of losing you.

But his older brother followed. The older Shimada matched his younger’s speed once he took off from his place in one of the training rooms towards the medical bay. Upon turning the corner towards the sterile door, Hanzo had snatched at Genji’s shoulders, yanking him back. Folding the arms at the elbows, Hanzo grabbed Genji’s wrists and pressed him against the wall.

Both panting, Hanzo glared at his younger brother.

Footsteps could be heard follow, the jingle of spurs had followed, along with the calm calls of Genji’s master.

“You need to calm down,” Hanzo scolded. “What good will you running amuck do for them? In the state that they are in? You could distract them! They could slip up! They could die!”

“Let me go, anija!” Genji spat, attempting to yank himself away from the older Shimada. “I need to see them!”

Instead, he only grunted as Hanzo pressed him closer to the wall.

“Not until you calm down.”

Cole and Zenyatta had rounded the corner, the cowboy out of breath and grasping at his knees, panting like a wild dog. Zenyatta tilted his head towards his student before humming softly.

Hanzo and Cole alike were both shocked to see the omnic suddenly stand on two feet. In their time of knowing Zenyatta at the base, the omnic always seemed to defy the laws of gravity and float everywhere in a lotus position.

“Let go of his wrists, Hanzo,” he calmly advised, placing his metal hand on top of Genji’s tense shoulder. The older brother hesitated before sighing, releasing Genji’s wrists. “He is right, Genji. You cannot panic now for their safety and health. Miss Ziegler and the other medics are doing what they can to help them.”

Just as Genji opened his mouth, the door opened. Ana Amari stepped out, adjusting her eyepatch as a tear slipped from under the black cover. She was shocked to see the four outside, but eyed Genji the most. Her eyes softened before she sighed.

“Ana?” Cassidy whispered.

“They’ve lost a lot of blood. Angela is doing what she can to save them,” she mumbled. She stepped away from the door. “You can sit in the viewer if you need to, but… I wouldn’t stay long.”

Upon hearing those words, Genji rushed inside only to stop dead in his tracks at the window. One way, bright, crowded. A small screen sat in the corner, a view from above looking down on…

Genji felt Cole’s hand on his shoulder, but paid no mind to it as he watched your face.

Stitches across your face, bruised, bloody still and bandaged to all hell. You had caught in an explosion in Dorado, Los Muertos’ doing. You were in a small building when it had happened.

If you were right outside…

Genji didn’t even want to think about what would’ve happened.

He could already see some equipment that took him back to when he was initiated into Blackwatch. Cybernetics.

You had lost a body part… Maybe more. He remembered how devastating it was for him to lose both of his legs and a whole forearm.

“Genj…” Cassidy murmured, “they’ll be alright.”

He could only imagine how terrified you were, how much you were screaming and crying from the agony. Reinhardt had told him you were strong though, even as he and Morrison dug through the wreckage to find you. He saw how the old German warrior was saddened that even he couldn’t stop this from happening.

He felt like he would vomit right there.

Cole and Hanzo stepped outside after Zenyatta waved them off. The two were left in near silence. They could only hear your faint heartbeat fluttering every now and then.

“I know that this is a hard time for you, Genji,” Zenyatta hummed. He placed a hand on Genji’s shoulder and watched the screen with his student. Precise fingers worked on your body, tools were passed and needles dug in and out of your skin, sealing it closed as other needles numbed your body. “I know that you are suffering, that time is cruel to you as to us all during this tragedy. But know that even as time may take away what we love the most and how it may bring pain and agony, know that time will also heal all wounds and time will allow you both to grow. But sadly, all we can do now is wait.”

Genji said nothing, only letting his shoulders slouch. He was defeated. There was nothing the ninja could do now but wait just as his master had said.

“How about we meditate on this and we can discuss how we can help them after they wake up? Perhaps brightening up your shared quarters with some flowers?”

Genji looked to his master before smiling. Zenyatta, all the wiser, knew despite the faceplates blocking his view, that his student would do so at the drop of a pin.

And so the two sat in the viewing room, listening to your heartbeat slowly growing stronger.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Annoying Neighbour - Part 6

A/N: Time for an update! The final chapter guys. Yet another series coming to an end. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed this story!

Pairing: Single Dad! Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ fluff.

Word count: 2.1k

Annoying Neighbour Masterlist

.

Pregnant.

There it was. Two red lines on a white stick that changed the course of your life forever. You placed the test back on the counter, in line with the three others you had taken yesterday, all confirming the same thing.

You were carrying Tony’s child.

After cleaning up, you took a good look at yourself in the mirror, eyes landing on your stomach that showed nothing. At least not yet. It would be a while for that but you’d eventually be sporting a baby bump. A baby that was half yours and half Tony’s. Your hand flew down to caress your belly, picturing a tiny little bean of life growing inside, it made you smile.

“Hey there, my little oops baby.” you murmured, still caressing your invisible bump.

The thought also made you worry. It was an oops baby. What if Tony didn’t want another child? What if with his past experience, he refused to have another family? That was quite unlikely, but still the thought did cross your mind. What if Morgan didn’t agree to it? Would you have to raise this child alone? Were you even prepared for something like this? Emotionally? Financially?

And all these thoughts aside, there was a strong sense of protection you felt towards the little bean, like no matter what happened, you would do everything to protect it, keep it safe, bring him or her into the world.

With or without Tony.

The week went by quickly, Tony was still away in Malibu with Morgan and you were still keeping your pregnancy a secret from him, thinking it was best to do it face to face.

There was a letter left on your doorstep one evening when you returned from work, it only had your name on it, meaning someone physically left it there. Picking it up, you began reading it, blood draining from your face as you realized who had written it.

Pepper.

Y/N,

Looks like you won. All Tony seems to care about is his new life with his new girl.

Congratulations on stealing my husband and my life away from me. Tearing a family apart, taking a daughter away from her mother, I hope it made you happy.

I don’t want to say the word but I’m sure it has already popped in your head, am I right? I wish you a nice life. One that was supposed to be mine.

Virginia Pepper Potts

A homewrecker.

That was the unsaid word after all.

Your vision had blurred from tears as you finished the letter, feeling it slip from your hands. You would’ve picked it up but it seemed as if black spots had appeared in front of your eyes, they only seemed to grow bigger until a dull tingling sensation took over and you lost consciousness, not realizing if your body ever hit the ground.

The next time your eyes opened, you were in a room you didn’t recognize. It smelled sterile and medicine-y. Hushed murmurs reached your ears as you sat up to look around, quickly deciphering it was a hospital.

“Easy there, Mama.”

Your head snapped in the direction of the familiar voice. It was Tony. He helped you sit up with relief written all over his face now that you had woken up. It felt so good to have him near you again, his presence almost automatically made you feel better.

“Tony, when did you get here?” your voice came out small and weak from lack of use. Tony gave you a smile as he readjusted your pillow, clasping your hand in his and caressing the back as he took a seat next to you.

“This afternoon. Well, my plan was to surprise you, but then Rhodey called in stating he was taking you to the hospital, nearly giving me a heart attack in the process. So that was quite a bust.”

He explained, letting you know that Rhodey had not only brought you here but also prevented a nasty fall you would have had had he not reached to catch you at the right time. You did still have a mild headache but otherwise you felt okay. He offered you some water that you gladly accepted while mind flew back to the words he had said earlier.

He’d called you Mama.

“Tony, you um, you know?” you swallowed, crossing your fingers and silently praying he would be happy with the news.

“Yeah the doctor ran tests and one of the nurses gave me your report in a very stoic manner. I would’ve preferred hearing it from you. Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” he asked softly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly to let you know he was here no matter what.

“I uhm–I wasn’t sure if you wanted another kid. Honestly? I don’t know if I’m ready to have one, you know? It is too soon. You have Morgan and I mean we never talked about it really! I didn’t know if it was too soon or what would happen or–”

“Hey, it’s okay. Y/N, honey, look at me. Please.”

Tony cupped your cheek to make you look at him, wiping the tears that escaped with his thumb before resting his forehead against yours. He took in a deep breath and encouraged you to do the same, calming your racing thoughts with his presence. It made you realize how much you had missed having him around.

“Better?” he whispered, kissing your forehead when you nodded with a small smile.

“I’m pregnant, Tony.” your voice cracked as a near face-splitting grin adorned your face, saying those words out loud made it all real for you. It was actually happening.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a father again. You’re gonna be such a great Mama, Y/N. I love you so much.”

You smiled into the kiss you shared, feeling like a weight was lifted off your chest, happiness making its way through as you hugged him close. This was the first time he had said it to you, even though he should’ve said those words months ago.

“I love you too, Tony.” you whispered, allowing your heart to flutter hopelessly for the man you were hopelessly and irrevocably in love with.

After you separated, Tony let you know that Rhodey had taken Morgan to the park, bringing your thoughts back to the incident which brought you here in the first place.

“Tony, there’s something you should know. I received a letter earlier today.” you began, making him frown as he turned his attention to you. Tony remained calm while you explained the whole thing, the contents of that nasty letter Pepper had left you but on the inside, you could tell he was furious. You couldn’t help but tear up again as you recalled some of the things written in it.

“I should have been there. You don’t deserve this, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna take care of it, I promise you. I’ll file a restraining order. She won’t get anywhere near you.” You could tell he was cursing himself internally, staring out the hospital window, the wheels in his mind already working on a plan to rid himself and his new family of that despicable woman.

You remained quiet as he promised he wouldn’t let anything happen, wrapping your arms around him and breathing in his comforting scent.

“You could never be a homewrecker, Y/N. We were never a home to begin with, Pepper and I. We could never be. It wasn’t right. But she gave me something worth living for. Morgan. And now with you, I finally understood what it means to be a loving family, a unit.” he murmured with his lips against your hair, hands gently caressing your back.

The day had been quite overwhelming for you, and at his little confession, you couldn’t help but sob again. Hearing your sniffles, Tony tensed up.

“It’s the pregnancy hormones, Stark. Leave me alone.” you laughed through your tears, hiding your face in his chest.

For once you believed that maybe everything would be okay.

.

Five months later

Impatient squeals of kids could be heard out in the backyard as you prepped Morgan’s birthday cake, sticking six candles in the strawberry and chocolate cake. You giggled to yourself when you heard Rhodey scream on top of his lungs for the kids to behave.

The Pepper problem in your life was taken care of, she was facing an inquiry after being found guilty of committing fraud in Stark Industries, her lawyers weren’t able to save her. And the restraining order had been the final nail in the coffin.

Tony had asked you to move in with him a month after finding out you were pregnant. He had done so while you and Morgan were baking chocolate chip cookies, something you craved the most throughout your pregnancy. Taken you by surprise but not really considering how most of your relationship milestones had missed their order, though you weren’t complaining.

Now complete at eight months nearing the ninth, you were equal parts excited and nervous about giving birth. Morgan was the most excited about having a sibling, much to your relief and Tony’s. She would spend days discussing all the toys she wanted for the baby, the colour of the nursery etc. You even found her drawings that she had left on the table one day. A family standing beside a house, with a mom, dad, and a little girl holding a baby along with a dog - one she was fixated on bringing home, though you and Tony had found ways to try and get her mind off of it. You were certain eventually she would make Tony cave and bring a pet home.

A comforting pair of arms wound themselves around you from behind, making you smile before you felt Tony’s lips against your shoulder. He wasn’t missing any opportunity to caress your belly, it was safe to say he was obsessed. Obsessed with your changed body, your weird cravings, your increased sex drive, he was in love with it all.

“Everything looks great, sweetheart. How’s my son?”

“He’s asleep. Well, he was.” you grinned when you felt a little kick against Tony’s hand, making you shake your head. Your unborn child was already responding so well to his Dad’s touch, he would kick almost instantly upon hearing Tony’s voice, feeling his touch, hearing him sing to him at night, you knew they were going to be inseparable.

“Can’t wait to meet you either, Theo.” he crooned, making you frown and place your hands on your hips.

“Excuse me, when did we decide on Theo?”

“Didn’t we?” Tony shoved both his hands in his pockets, smirking while his fingers wrapped around the little velvet box he had purchased a few weeks ago.

“Nope. We agreed on Noah. I mean, Morgan and I did.” you shrugged, picking up the cake to bring outside before Tony stopped you.

“I’m sure we can debate over it. There’s another very important question I have for you, Miss Y/L/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he knelt in front of you, pulling out the box with a knowing smile on his handsome face.

“Y/N, my beautiful Y/N, you are the best thing to have happened to me and my kid and I will forever be thankful for that darn airplane toy that crashed into your window that night. I love you so much and I can’t wait to start this new chapter of our lives. Though I think it’s about time we got an upgrade from being your annoying neighbours to something more, isn’t it? Marry us, please? We’re already a family, we just need to make it legal.”

You chuckled through your tears as he finished, whispering a ‘yes’. Tony slipped the stunning diamond ring on your finger and kissed you, pouring all his love and devotion into it. Your heart was brimming with joy as you hugged in your kitchen, separating when you heard a couple of kids complain, knowing Morgan would soon come looking for the source of the delay of her birthday cake.

He was right. That toy crashing into your window was the best accident that had happened in your life, one that changed the course of it in the best possible way. From being wary of your neighbour, you were now utterly in love with that same man and his daughter, were living with him and were just a month away from having his baby.

Talk about love thy neighbour…

[hayanwulf]

Hi hello I hope you’re doing well! :)

I was going to prompt, for spooky season, another vampire Stephen? Maybe a continuation of the Ironstrange one if you’re interested?

(Though I might have already asked. I’m sorry if I have. I remember thinking about sending a prompt and I have no clue if I ever actually did)

Thank you for the well wishes. And, gee, aren’t you a lucky ducky, cause there’s a couple of strangefrost vamp!stephen prompts soon after yours in the queue.

Click here to read the first part of IronStrange Vamp!Stephen

The lust is going haywire, Stephen thought dryly as he came to.

His body felt oddly numb, and the urge to drink, to kill, pushed violently against the semblance of control and stability in his mind’s Sanctum even as his own rational thoughts tried to hold them back. He tried to open his eyes, and groaned at the bright lights that instantly filtered in through his eyes, squinting. He had a headache.

His head was splitting, and his body felt numb, and the lust was pushing its way up relentlessly, and Stephen felt like absolute shit.

The brightness of the room dulled a little, and Stephen tried to open his eyes again, finding a sterile looking ceiling above him. He also realized that he was laid out in a bed. Why was he in a bed? Better yet, where was he?

“Stephen?” A gentle voice called to him, a voice that Stephen was all too familiar with. He stilled, only now catching onto the sweet, inviting scent of blood just to his left.

Oh, Vishanti, he thought as he realized that Tony was not only sitting right next to him, but held one of Stephen’s hands in his hold. He turned to look at the genius, and found a pained look etched in his face. All the memories of what had happened returned to him.

The werewolf fight.

So much blood spilled.

So much blood lost.

And here he was, lying on a recovery bed with Vishanti knew how many wounds while his bloodlust raged inside his mind, rapidly fraying the control and discipline he had worked hard for years to establish. And right in front of him was the love of his life, the one who he had silently sworn to protect at all costs, smelling oh-so-delectable, completely unaware of just how much of a danger Stephen was to him.

Stephen hated himself for it. Would forever hate himself for it.

He swallowed, nervously licking the inside of his lips, and froze, his eyes widening.

If Stephen’s blood had been warm, it would’ve gone cold right at that moment.

His fangs were out.

Which meant his eyes must also be red.

Which meant his true identity was on full display for Tony, for his friend and the love of his life, for the hunter that sat not a foot away from Stephen.

He yanked his hand away from Tony’s grip and tried to stand up, because he needed to get away, he needed to run far far away and never show his face to this man again.

In reality, all he managed was a grunt and a pathetic crawl away from Tony, until he reached the other edge of the bed, wanting to topple himself off but simply having no energy left in his body whatsoever, nor the courage. His wounds tugged painfully, whatever medication was in his system not enough to curb the pain.

“Stephen, hey,” Tony stood up, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.”

“What..” Stephen asked in a shaky voice as he tried to prop himself up on elbows and miserably failed at that, even. “I’m.. I..” He tried to form words, but couldn’t find any. What did he even say? I’m sorry for deceiving? I never meant to lie?

I love you.

You smell delicious.

Each thought that flashed through his mind was even more appalling than the previous.

There was nothing, nothing that he could say to Tony.

“You bled a lot, Stephen,” Tony said carefully. “You need blood.”

Horror crept up Stephen’s spine as he realized what Tony meant, when the other man slowly climbed into the bed with him. His mind screamed at him to act on the chance. To pin the human down and drain him dry. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t. It took all of his willpower to not give in to the raging lust inside of him, to keep his control holding true, weak and frail as it was now.

“You need to leave,” Stephen pleaded, shaking his head in denial when Tony’s hand came to gently cup his face.

“No,” The genius declared, and then grabbed the back of Stephen’s head to pull him in until his face was buried in Tony’s neck. Stephen made a strange noise at the back of his throat when his senses were suddenly so full of Tony, the warmth of the genius’ body, the saccharine, tantalizing smell of his blood, the distinct scent of Tony which Stephen, at some point, had come to associate with home.

Stephen squeezed his eyes shut as his fangs itched fiercely, his instincts now a roaring voice inside of his head. His lips were practically touching the tender skin. It would be so, so easy to just give in, sink his fangs into that same skin which he had fantasized many a nights about caressing, kissing tenderly, worshiping.

“Please, Tony,” Stephen begged, wishing that the genius would just leave. He was teetering at the edge of his control. “I can’t hurt you. Please.”

At that, Tony pulled him away to look down at him. He wore a look similar to the pained expression Stephen had seen in his face when he had woken up.

“Stephen, you’re the last person on this planet who would hurt me.”

Stephen’s breath stuttered, tears falling from his eyes. How could Tony have so much trust in him? He did not understand.

“I.. I’m a vampire, Tony,” Stephen whispered in a broken voice, because maybe that would give Tony the wake-up call. Maybe now the genius would realize that this was all real and that he was hugging a vampire so damn close to his neck. That he needed to let go, run, and abandon Stephen for good.

Instead of doing any of that, Tony huffed and spoke in a dry voice, “Yeah, your eyes kind of gave it away. Or, I don’t know, the fact that you don’t have a heartbeat. I am mad at you about it by the way. But I’ll feel like an asshole if I yell at you when you’re looking like this.” He shoved Stephen’s face back into his neck, and when he spoke next, his voice was much softer. “So what you’re going to do now is feed on me, and we’ll figure out the rest later. I trust you. You won’t hurt me.”

Tears steadily streamed out of Stephen’s eyes as he pressed his nose into the soft skin, inhaling Tony’s natural scent, and the scent of the blood rushing just beneath. He didn’t know what he had done to earn such an absolute trust of this beautiful, impossible man, who never gave his trust away to just anyone.

Tony’s trust was not something to be taken lightly. It was an utterly precious thing. And so Stephen found all the fight leaving his body as he gave in to Tony’s demand.

He recalled years of training and discipline. He firmly clamped a tight vice around his bloodlust, his determination fueled further by his need to protect his precious love from himself. He would feed from Tony, but he would be the one in control throughout. He would stop when he had drunk a safe amount.

I will let myself be hurt before I ever hurt you, he silently vowed, and sank his teeth deep into Tony’s veins.

[artiststarme]

Let’s Get Medical!

Ok so I saw a few comments about Steve’s injuries on one of my last fics so let’s speculate! @goodolefashionedloverboi and @absurdityaddiction, thank you for your comments! They really got me thinking lol.

~*~*~*~

Steve had some pretty deep wounds to the left and right lumbar regions of the abdomen that were left untreated for at least several days. There are a lot of important organs in this vicinity including the large intestine, small intestine, liver, and stomach, as well as many blood vessels that supply blood to the rest of the body.

Steve should have cleaned the bites immediately to avoid infection or horrific scarring. Usually, wound care would be performed shortly after the injury in which sterilized water, hydrogen peroxide, and betadine would be used to prevent infection. Understandably, he had other things to worry about at the time such as getting out of the alternate dimension that was trying to kill him and his friends. All Steve did was have Nancy apply an improvised bandage from her shirt that was already soaked in lake water and tainted by the Upside Down toxins. It would’ve helped to slow the bleeding by applying necessary pressure but it wouldn’t have helped with infection or scarring. 

When he got back to the Rightside Up, he should’ve cleaned them with sterilized water, saline, or hydrogen peroxide but he didn’t. Instead, he went to sleep or something. We know because he was still wearing Nancy’s improvised cloth bandage the next day when they were making plans to go to the War Zone.

He might’ve been able to change his bandages and apply some remedial first aid after the War Zone once he changed his clothes but by then, the infection would’ve had time to set in. 

Bats are known to carry a multitude of harmful bacteria and dangerous viruses. Because demobats look so much nastier than the disease-infested cute bats in real life, I have to assume they would have some demented version of some virus (like Rabies) or bacteria (like leptospirosis). 

Steve would’ve started experiencing fever, chills, lethargy, and muscle aches within hours of the initial bites but he still went into the Upside Down to kill Vecna. All of the strenuous physical activity likely tore the wounds open over and over again which would cause horrible scarring as well as some chronic pain and inflammation in those areas.

When he got out of the Upside Down, he would’ve gone directly to the hospital for Max, Dustin, and Eddie (we don’t talk about other alternatives). After several days of untreated wounds, blood loss and infection, Steve would be having a truly horrible time. 

When his adrenaline crashed, he would’ve collapsed in the hospital with wounds the rest of the Party didn’t think were too serious. They wouldn’t know what to think when the doctors said he could die. 

The doctors would have to debride the wounds of dead skin since it wasn’t healing on its own. They would administer strong IV antibiotics and flush his system with saline to try and override the sepsis. Steve would most likely have to have several surgeries to harvest skin tissue from his back and thighs to try and replace the “pound of flesh” that the demobats tore off of him. 

He would be fine eventually but he would always have the extensive scarring, both mental and physical, to remember the Upside Down by. 

Luckily for him, Eddie definitely would think that the scars looked badass.

[necroixe]

Js realized I never posted this guy but I have ocs other than Nico I swear lmaoo

This is Noah, formerly known as Micah Vance before he got fucked over by slender man as they all do and ws hit with a healthy dose of cloud strife style retrograde amnesia + identity theft.

Full character file and details under the cut! Be warned– it’s LONG:

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‘ ‘ did you say something, what’d you say?... ‘ ‘

‘ ‘ was that your voice, or was that me? ‘ ‘

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N A M E

Noah Rivers

A L I A S

The ghost

A G E

22

G E N D E R

Male, he/him

S E X

Male

Noah is a human operator proxy.

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"I've never been fucking scared of you," He snapped, and Noah grabbed his jaw.

"I've always hated that."

"What?"

"How often you lie through your fucking teeth."

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A P P E A R A N C E

The most notable thing about Noah is his mask. It's drawn over crudely with charcoal, smudged all over, black around the eyes, the nose, the mouth. But the features are visible. The nose is sharp and angular, and the lips are drawn in a thin line. He wears it so often it's more like his face than his actual face. The only time he takes it off is when he's asleep, and sometimes not even then. His actual face, the one under the mask, has a scar that drags from above his right eyebrow down across his nose to his left jawline. His face is slim, angular, edges hazy against a monochromatic color scheme. The structure of his face is proportionate but it’s usually frowning, brows furrowed, mouth cut into a scowl. His features look like they were cut from alabaster or marble. Would’ve been pretty, maybe, in another universe. His eyes should've been black, but one of them is blinded, grayed over, and the other seems perpetually suited for low light. They are upturned, half lidded at a default and followed by bags, lines, and dark circles. They look bruised or dusky in color. He's bad with bright lights. He has black hair, cut choppy and messy, like he did it himself. His skin is so pale it's almost a sort of gray, the kind that suggests he doesn't see sun often. Lips chapped and dry, always cracked and bleeding, same with his hands, long black nails he likes painting for a reason he can't fully explain. They make his already slender fingers appear longer than they are. Almost clawlike. Noah is thin. He's tall, taller than he remembers, standing at 5’11”. He's built like an alley cat, all sinew and muscle, sharp shoulders, sharp bones. Scars all over his body. Some are new, from fights, other's he's had before he can remember in odd, purposeful places.

V O I C E

Baritone

Rough, and unused. When speaking his voice is barely above a whisper. He’s one of those people with a voice so low you have to lean in to listen. There’s an edge to his tone, a slight southern drawl. Sometimes the things he says sound more like they’re coming from a machine than a person. His voice is muffled when it’s under the mask, he compensates by being slightly louder.

S C E N T

His scent isn’t something that’s easy to pinpoint. It’s almost sterile, but not hospital sterile. He kind of smells like the woods.

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‘ ‘ how many times did i tell you

before it finally got through? ‘ ‘

‘ ‘ you lose. ‘ ‘

‘ ‘ you lose. ‘ ‘

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C O M B A T

Noah has heightened strength and speed, but he’s still human. A human that ignores the capabilities of his own body, but human nonetheless. He’s a skilled fighter, can hold his own against nearly anyone when weapons aren’t involved. He doesn’t like knives. Helpless with them, helpless against them. Noah is a firearms sort of guy. Always has a gun on him, either a pistol, or when he’s hunting he has a rifle. He’s interesting during fights. A textbook masochist. Pain doesn’t elicit the same reaction from him as it would for most other people. At best, he’ll ignore it, at worst, he’s drunk on it.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Noah doesn’t remember much about his life before meeting the operator, if anything. There are glimpses of a history that doesn’t feel like his in the back of his mind, or when he’s half asleep, or when his brain turns off and he isn’t really thinking. Those are his favorite moments. Where he can pretend he isn’t himself. He’s a murderer. He’s quiet, and secretive, and temperamental. What might’ve at one point been a charming persona, dulled and narrowed itself down to a chassis unrecognizable to people who knew him when he was younger. He’s quick to anger. Restless when things are calm, and when he feels alright. He’s never actively antagonistic, but he doesn’t like other people, and his skin itches for instability. He can never hold down a relationship. Of any kind, platonic, romantic. Always ends up ruining it somehow. And he likes it that way. He doesn’t even know why he’s so angry, he just is. His internal world is indecipherable, even to him. He’s constantly mixing things up, getting things wrong, getting distracted, forgetting things. Which is strange, because in the abstract he’s intelligent. There are moments where it seems like he’s lucid, and he’s calm, easy going, likable, even. He has a dry sense of humor that on boys like him feel more charismatic than it actually is. But the neuroticism always comes back eventually. He isn’t Noah without the neuroticism. Maybe he isn’t Noah at all.

B A C K S T O R Y

He isn't. He grew up as a boy named Micah. A different person, honestly. Relatively normal, all things considered. Had parents, friends, a boyfriend, people that cared about him. A trajectory that should’ve been normal. He would’ve graduated highschool, gone to college, him and his boyfriend would break up and he’d marry a girl, or they wouldn’t and they’d end up together only to divorce later, or something. He thought domestic bliss was a stupid concept. Would give anything for it now.

The operator in his hometown was a story you told to kids. They called him the thin man. Micah and his friends would play in the woods on the outskirts of Haven, hunt for bird eggs, mark fake trails, the woods were sparse enough to not really worry about getting lost or losing each other, you could walk in any direction and reach a clearing in half an hour, or so, until you reached the deepwood, but no one went in there. Not even him. Haven was famous for having people go into that part of the woods and never come out. They said it’s because it was so disorienting, that you could walk in without even realizing it, and before you know it all the branches look the same and you can’t see a path. But when he was nineteen he went in. And he met the reason why no one ever really left those woods.

The concept of a proxy was weird to him. Someone that worked for an invisible force of nature you couldn’t see, but you could feel, and Micah felt him in the form of thick static at the back of his neck. Then again, he was drugged the entire time. It might’ve been that. The man who’d kidnapped him was named Noah. He was older, had a limp, a face he covered up by some sort of mask. Micah couldn’t remember. But he remembered his hands. They were unstable, shook constantly, leathery skin, or maybe gloves. Felt like fire. He remembered the way they’d palpitate when he took a blade, dragged it down his face, or somewhere else on his body. And this man, Micah would think to himself in a sedated haze, would use those hands to kill him. There was no universe where he got out of here in one piece.

The brain does fascinating things under extreme trauma. Noah would’ve made a brilliant psychiatrist in the 50s, because he’d triggered an artificial disassociation in Micah that helped him survive the ordeal at all. Mind over matter, he’d think, over, and over, and over, mind over matter. If he liked how much it hurt it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d make himself like it. If he missed home, his boyfriend’s stupid face so much he wanted to die, he’d tell himself he didn’t miss any of it at all. Where was he now? They’d gotten into a fight the last time he remembered, he wasn’t looking for him, wouldn’t save him, it was a waste of energy he didn’t have the luxury to sacrifice. The sedative helped. He didn’t know what it was. Some sort of depressant. His mind reeled, ran, sludged, brain into liquid. He wondered if Noah did this to everyone. Whatever that static was, it never shut up. A constant, ear grating buzz. Red noise. He’d get sick, Noah would laugh at him. He hated Noah. Hated Noah’s voice, his shaking hands, the smug sort of way he’d talk to him like he’d already won, like he’d already killed him. And he really should’ve. Noah was arrogant. Didn’t think he needed a gun for him, even though he had dozens lining the wall of his basement, an arsenal. And he didn’t. It wouldn’t have been difficult to kill someone locked to a chair and half awake. He was just an idiot. Let Micah slip out, let him kill him. His death was anticlimactic. A face pumped full of lead, features torn asunder. But the static was too loud all of a sudden, and he was nauseous, and his vision dimmed.

The amnesia paired itself with some delusion disorder, courtesy of the operator, he’d realize. He didn’t recognize his face, or his body, a perpetual state of psychosis, of dysphoria. Noah was the strongest thing in his mind. The last thing he really remembered. Maybe that’s why he latched onto the name. The memory of him. Or a voice he didn’t recognize told him it was him, that it was the only thing he made sense. This was Noah’s cabin, he recognized it, recognized the rooms, the temperature, the basement, the bloody, empty spot on the floor where something should’ve been. And then Noah’s cabin turned into his cabin. Noah’s mind turned into his mind. Some things scared him. He didn’t understand why his hands didn’t shake anymore, why he couldn’t stand to see his own face. But he clings to anything familiar. The thin man is familiar. He does what it tells him to.

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“you had no right to kill him.”

A voice said, from nowhere and everywhere all at once, register so alien and low it made his heart flatten to the pit of his stomach.

“a life for a life. your kind values equivocal exchange, no?”

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[bardic-tales]

Title: Mourning Pairing: Bianca Moore (F!OC) / Sephiroth Rating: Mature Word Count: 958 Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Setting: Redemption!AU Warnings: abuse, anxiety, blood (metaphor), childhood trauma, combat-related trauma, emotional manipulation, grief, needles (mention), psychological abuse, PTSD, self-doubt, trauma, violence Summary: As Bianca and Sephiroth are both haunted by their pasts, they find solace in each other while mourning what could have been. Squared Filled: Mourning Created for: Sephiroth Week hosted by the lovely people at @week-of-silver-winds

Author’s Note: As always, please read over my warnings, since I list the general themes, too, in case there is any content that may be uncomfortable to my reader.

As this is placed in my Redemption!AU, please note it is very canon divergent. In this AU, Sephiroth and his fellow SOLDIERs broke off from Shinra and are now fighting the good fight while he battles to control Jenova's encroaching influence.

EXCERPT:

“I used to dream of things like this,” Sephiroth said at last. “Quiet rooms, places that weren’t full of sterile walls or needles. Just… somewhere safe with you." He looked down at his hands. “But that isn’t who I am anymore.”

A late autumn night cast long shadows across their bedroom in their home that they now shared with the other former members of SOLDIER: Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, Kunsel, and Zack Fair.

Sephiroth sat on the edge of the bed with the mattress and the floral print bedspread sinking beneath his weight. The silence between them was the type that cut deep to the bone, causing a spike of anxiety in her which he felt through the soul-link that was always present between them. He hadn’t moved in hours, staring out the window as if the weight of his past lay somewhere outside, knocking to allow itself in.

Earlier that evening, Sephiroth had awoken from another nightmare. Memories of battles he once fought without question and missions ordered by voices from men in suits he now cursed haunted him. His hand tightened into a fist, and Bianca covered it with her own. The simple gesture from the celestial being grounded him in a way that the past often refused to allow.

“You don’t have to face it alone, Sephiroth,” she whispered, her melodic voice breaking the silence stretching between them. She had always been there: through the torture, the needles, the experiments, and the blood on his hands. He didn’t deserve her — or, at least, that was what he told himself.

She would tell him the opposite, as she always saw the good in him. She saw the man beneath the monster and beneath the SOLDIER poster boy. Bianca saw him.

He nodded before speaking. “Sometimes, Bia, I wonder if it would’ve been easier if - “

His voice trailed off as he studied Bianca. His throat tightened as he allowed himself to feel the regret he rarely allowed himself to feel. What would life have been like if she hadn’t fallen from the stars into his arms when they were children? Would Sephiroth have met on different terms, as two people who were free to choose their own lives rather than a SOLDIER and a celestial warrior bound by their scars and sorrow?

“They stole so much from us.” Her voice cracked. “Everything I was and everything you could have been . . . Just gone. Twisted by them.”

A long silence enveloped them. It was thick with words that were left unspoken but needed to be. These words lingered on the edge of consciousness, too emotionally charged for Sephiroth to say or Bianca to admit. They were the words that made one weak.

“I used to dream of things like this,” Sephiroth said at last. “Quiet rooms, places that weren’t full of sterile walls or needles. Just… somewhere safe with you.” He looked down at his hands. “But that isn’t who I am anymore.”

Bianca turned to him and gently cupped his face with her hands on his cheeks. She’d known him as both victim and SOLDIER, but she also knew the boy she once knew was still within him. No amount of Hojo’s cruelty could erase it.

“You’re still that boy, Sephiroth,” she spoke. Her indigo eyes glistened in the dimly lit light cast by the flickering candles by their bed. “No matter what they did to you, to us, that part of you isn’t gone. We just . . . have to find it. Have to find us.”

“Bianca, you know the things I’ve done. How can either of us deserve anything after that?”

Once again, they lapsed into silence. He could feel her thoughts through their bond as she searched for words, knowing that they both wore scars that no one could ever erase. But as he looked into her eyes, he realized it wasn’t about trying to find the perfect place. It was about trying to create something new and something real. Achieving this could only happen by taking one step at a time.

“Maybe, it won’t erase the past, Seph.” Her hand turned as she intertwined their fingers together. “But if we can be more than they made us, we have to believe in it. We’ve come too far together to give u on that now.”

Sephiroth looked back out at the window. His silver brow furrowed, as lines wrinkled across his forehead. Could he really hope for that dream he had been forced to forget: a peaceful life that could only exist after dismantling Shinra?

They sat like that for a while. She held his hand as they watched colored leaves float past their window in the pale moonlight. Their bond was not just forged by their mutual grief, but also by the unwavering support they found in each other and the rest of the former SOLDIERs. Knowing that the road ahead would be fraught with pain, they drew closer to each other, finding a delicate sense of tranquility in their shared sorrow for their lost innocence.

tagging some fellow mutuals: @asirensrage @themaradwrites @littleshopofchaos @serenofroses @megandaisy9 @watermeezer

@nightingaleflow @seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

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