#i barely have any fucking friends and now me and my boyfriend are broken up and he left me for another man i’m genuinely so sick

[caprisunchan]

vent lol

[shmpxx]

CURSED SPIRIT — y.o

⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader

yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)

Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.

Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.

Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.

Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.

Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.

Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.

Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.

Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.

Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.

Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.

[deadhands69]

Ramen & Rain

Katsuki Bakugo x gn Reader

Ramen Date

just a weird fluff Bakugo fic mostly written at 3am. not quite the direction it was intended to go but it still ends ish as planned. mentions of angst, turns into fluff.

“Sorry for your breakup,” you say to the messy haired blonde seated next to you at the hero rankings after-party, “are you doing okay?”

“Huh?” he grumbled before remembering the bullshit his PR team spun earlier that week. 

“Oh, that.” He sits uncomfortably, staring down the tablecloth at the tiny high top the two of you were perched at. “Um, that was fake.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, my PR team thinks it’ll humanize me to date likable people so they have me take models and whatever on dates.” He pauses, considering if he’d like to tell you the next part, “and a few times they also did this when I was photographed with one night stands. I guess that’s not so likable either or something,” he mumbles down at his lap.  

Your thoughts flash back to every headline you’d read about pro-hero Dynamite’s intriguing love life. Much to his team’s credit, you did fall for it.

“So, you haven’t actually dated any of those girls in the pictures?” 

“Nope,” his finishes his drink, hoping the glass blocked at least some of his blushing face.

“Have you dated anyone?”

“Have you?” he retorts, barely able to make eye contact.

Please say no, he hopes. 

He tried to ask you out once, in your second year of high school together. But he was going through some things. And you are you. He couldn’t imagine you being interested in anything but perfect when it’s what you deserve. One day, he figured, he could give you that. So he waited.

And of course you had no idea he liked you. Not when his way of showing it was hitting you harder while sparing, having higher expectations of you than everyone else, and exploding at you every time you so much as glanced at him (because he thought you caught him staring.)

“Well, there was Shouto in high school,” you begin.

Of course Bakugo knows about this, he hated it. 

You and Shouto had been best friends since halfway through your first year. So, it didn't surprise too many people in your third year when he asked you to go out with him. Of course you had a massive crush on him for years at that point. He's beautiful, who in your class hadn't been into him?

And it was… Cute. 

While it lasted. 

You held hands. He walked you to class. The two of you always had meals together, but it felt different once you were officially together. You never kissed or anything but that's okay, it was new. 

Exactly nine days and four hours is when it all came crashing down. 

Feeling worked after training, you went to bed early. You'd meet up with your boyfriend in the morning. No big deal. 

Little did you know, your puppy love relationship was falling apart before your head even hit the pillow. 

“Hey, Icy Hot! What are you doing checking out Ponytail when you're already dating the hottest person in our class?” Bakugo berated Todoroki. 

Confused, he responded as bluntly as he ever did, “but y/n isn't the hottest one in our class. Momo is.”

Katsuki’s red eyes pierced through him, clearly he was missing something. 

“Wait, are you not dating y/n??”

“No, I am.”

“...then what the fuck.”

After much back and forth, it came out that Iida told Todoroki everyone should aspire to date their best friend. He took that to heart and asked you out without considering if he like liked you. 

He didn't. 

And he told you that the next morning.

It’s not Shouto’s fault his comprehension of human emotion is so limited. This didn’t make being broken up with by him any easier though. Everything was matter of fact, no sugar coating. 

“Thanks for letting me know,” you mumbled to your feet, trying to think of any excuse to leave and save yourself the embarrassment of bursting into tears in front of your classmates. His mismatched eyes stared at you, still confused about the whole situation. 

“I have to go finish some homework now, see ya later.” Turning away, you hope you played it off well enough. No one seemed to notice as you walked heavily through the common space with a face made of stone until you reached the elevator. 

Bakugo did though, and he was pissed at Todoroki for fumbling so hard that you got hurt. Their already unstable friendship took a massive hit after that. Eventually, after a lot of adjusting, Katsuki reasoned he could be okay with you dating someone else if it meant you were happy (and they were perfect and checked every single box he decided someone would need to in order to be worthy of you.) This wasn’t it though.

“I don't mean high school. That one didn't count, ” he says, remembering how helpless he felt watching you being heartbroken when you never did anything to deserve it. 

“Okay, well there was…”

The girl you were with for a whole month before discovering she was a villain, just using you because she thought she could get top secret information. She didn’t.

Then there was the guy you met at a coffee shop who stuck around for a while. He thought you were attractive but didn’t want more than sex and wasn’t sure how to bring that up. You being a hero was terrifying to him and he thought you’d stop sleeping with him when you realized that’s all he was there for. You did. 

And Shinsou, who had the most amicable breakup with. He’s nocturnal and you’re well, not quite. After not seeing each other for three weeks, you decided your schedules just weren’t compatible and called it. No media outlets picked up on it since there was nothing to pick up on. 

Bakugo shifts uncomfortably in front of you. Brows furrowed and face unreadable to most. A twinge of jealousy overtakes him. Sure, the two of you haven’t talked much since graduation, but he still has feelings for you. And hearing about all the losers who had a chance when he never did didn’t sit right with him.

On top of that, admittedly, he also feels guilty. Maybe if he'd asked you out all those years ago he could have saved you from this pain. His assumption you’d settle for nothing but perfect had been shattered, leaving him to accept that he shouldn’t have left you craving closeness from anyone but him. He should have been there. 

He’s here now though. At this point in life, he knows he isn’t perfect but he could at least do better than everyone else you mentioned. If you let him.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks abruptly.

“What?”

“Wanna go somewhere else? The food sucks here, there’s a good ramen shop that’s open late down the street.” 

“You asking me on a date, Dynamite?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he replies dead serious, “I am.”

 Suddenly you’re the one feeling flustered. A date with Katsuki Bakugo? 

After a quick stop at coat check, the two of you are out the door. Running down the marble stairs to the rough sidewalk, his hand lightly around your wrist to guide you. A rain storm earlier left the streets glimmering, neon reflections from the surrounding shops. A few people trickle in and out of businesses in the typically bustling area, but tonight it feels like a ghost town. 

Then you’re there.

He pulls you through an unassuming door. With a quick wave to the person behind the counter, they informally gesture the two of you towards the small seating area. 

Sit wherever.

You slide over the cracked upholstery at a table in the corner. The pink sign lighting up the window casts a glow over his face, the warm color suits him.

When you left your place earlier, you never expected to end up on a date. Especially not here. The location being as much of a surprise as his sudden interest. 

Sure, you always thought he was cute, but you never knew him. He spent all of high school keeping you at arm’s length. Then after, you’ve spent years basing your assumptions about Bakugo off the headlines you’d read. The dates he went on. Always models and idols. Fancy restaurants, valets, and expensive cars.

But this is real.

Across the table, you watch as he slides his suit jacket off. You hadn’t realized how stuffy the atmosphere was earlier until you see him relax, top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up. You forgot about the scars.

The woman running the shop approaches to take your order, not bothering to ask him - it appears he gets the same thing every time he comes in. Having been distracted, you quickly pick the first menu item that jumps out to you. She disappears into the kitchen.

“So, what do you want,” he asks, sitting too casually for the depth of the conversation he’s bringing up. He needs to ask though, otherwise how will he know what to do? “You told me what didn’t work but not what you actually wanted in any of that.”

“I guess I haven’t thought about it. I’ve just been working and-”

“Bullshit,” direct, but his tone is playful as he flashes a slightly crooked smile at you.

Two bowls of ramen float through the air to your table - likely the quirk of the woman before. You’re glad for the momentary distraction, giving you time to consider your answer. The food arrived suspiciously fast but with one sip from the oversized spoon, you know it’s amazing. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. 

“Like I’d take you somewhere shitty,” he laughs, “still dodging my question?”

“No,” you pause, pulling a piece of bok choy from the bowl while you consider, “not a villain would be nice.”

“Bar’s that low, huh?”

“...and being able to spend time together at least once a week would be good.”

“Only once a week?” he scoffs, “too easy.”

“What about you?”

He says nothing for a while, chasing a green onion around his spicy ramen with his chopsticks.

“This is good,” he mumbles suddenly uncharacteristically shy, “like a real, actual date.”

Looks like you aren’t the only one with lowered standards.

“Too easy,” you smile.

If he told you how serious of a relationship he actually wants with you, he might scare you off. This is a great start though.

Abruptly, he changes the topic to hero work. You compare stories, scars. 

He tells you how he got the small mark on his neck from a villain with a slashing quirk. How he took out a small area of buildings before Bakugo arrived to apprehend him.

You show him a similar scar on your wrist after the same villain escaped prison. 

The evening passes far too quickly.

As he approaches the counter to pay, you don’t miss the exchange between him and the older woman working. She looks overjoyed, saying something while glancing at you in the booth. He smiles awkwardly, his flushed face apparent even in the dim neon lighting.

“Alright, let’s get outta here,” he asserts while grabbing both of your hands to pull you to your feet.

“Can I take you out again?” he asks, as your feet have barely hit the pavement.

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Perfect.”

more Bakugo: masterlist

[paranoiastudio]

Would you fuck me, Art?

pairing: Art Donaldson х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, cheat?

word count: 1,4k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- Would you fuck me, Art? - You ask point-blank, causing Art to choke on his drink. - If it weren't for Patrick, would you have fucked me?

This conversation should not have happened. You didn’t want to go to this party, but you forced yourself to come. You didn’t want to discuss your relationship with anyone, but Art knew about your last fight with Patrick and approached you himself.

And now, after three bottles of beer and a sincere conversation, you find yourself asking a similar question and understand that stopping now is not an option.

You looked at Art so intently, so alluringly, that he simply could not lie to you. And he decided not to lie, finally admitting how much he was attracted to his friend’s girl.

- I would fuck you right now if you asked. - Art whispers this on your lips.

The air around you becomes heavier every second, you feel the familiar heat in your lower abdomen and lick your lips, only attracting the attention of the man’s gaze to you.

- Would you fuck me?

- Yes. - You answer, perhaps, too quickly.

- If it weren't for Patrick, that's right?

- No. I... I would fuck you now, right here... If you asked me.

Your words seem to have broken Art Donaldson. He looks at you silently, thinking about what he heard. He should leave right now: you're his friend's girlfriend, you're a little drunk and upset, you can make mistakes.

But you still look at him, just five minutes ago you said that you were tired of Patrick and wanted to change something. Does this mean you're leaving Patrick?

- Ask me, Art... - Everything except you loses the sound. How can he refuse you? Art has wanted you, you was so close and yet so far away.

Art is a strong man, with a well-trained will, but even he is now ready to break. All he wants now is to be close to you and he doesn't care about the consequences.

- Let's go. - You accept his hand without objection and follow the guy, noting how soft his skin is. Patrick's hands were heavy and hard, Art's were not like that. Having pushed away this comparison, you turn to the crowd, no one seems to care that you are going up to the second floor.

- Whose room is this? - You lean your back on the door, Art leans towards you, otherwise your whisper would not be able to be heard.

- Guest room. Did you lock it?

You pull the handle twice, wanting to check for sure. After making sure that you won’t be disturbed, I quickly take off my shoes, embarrassed to wear shoes in someone else’s house, and sit down next to Art.

- Are you sure? - Art wanted to know for sure, he had to make sure that you really wanted this.

- More than. And you?

- And I. Can I kiss you? - You push back a strand of hair from your forehead and nod, submitting to the tennis player’s touch. Art kisses your neck, his open mouth exploring your hot skin and his hand squeezing your bare knee, not going any further.

- Don't be afraid, I don't bite painfully. - You giggle, seeing only tenderness and affection in Art’s eyes, not a hint of mockery or playfulness, as was often the case with Patrick.

- I’ll be ready to endure even if you take a bite out of me. - Art strokes your cheek with his thumb.

You reach for the next kiss and lightly bite the man’s lip, trying to force him to open his mouth. Art's tongue is very warm and tastes like a mixture of cider and something bitter. He glides weightlessly, pulling you into a long and affectionate kiss and you move easily, feeling his tenderness embrace you.

- I’ve always wanted you... - Art rests his forehead on your shoulder and runs his nose along your skin. - Patrick just... Damn.

- Hey... - You lift Art’s face by the chin. - He's not here, you know? Patrick is an asshole and we both know it. Looks like I picked the wrong guy...

You push Art onto the bed and sit on top of him. The mention of your arrogant and stubborn boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) made you angry and added courage.

- We don't talk about Patrick anymore, okay? - Art nods, watching you in fascination. - Fine. Now touch me.

You begin to pull off Art’s shirt, your hips rise and the man immediately puts his hands on your legs, stroking the skin and rising higher and higher.

- I don’t think we’ll need that. - You unbutton the tennis player’s light trousers and pull them down along with your underwear just enough to free half-erect cock.

- I... Please. - Art whines underneath you, which can’t help but make you grin, you haven’t even touched him yet. - Please, I want it so much...

You take the penis in your hand and make a few slow movements. The soft skin pleasantly rubs against your hand, with your other hand you would grab Art’s balls, he almost jumps on the bed and shamelessly moves his hips towards you.

- My poor baby... - You coo over the already hard member and lubricate the droplets from the red tip with excitement. - No one has touched you for a long time, right?

Art looks at you pleadingly, he is ready to ask, beg you, but you yourself are already on the verge and won’t be able to tease him for long. Especially when Art gets his finger under the hem of your underwear...

- Oh shit! - You stop all actions, and, lifting up your dress, you move your underwear and push yourself onto Ard Donaldson’s dick.

- God! - He opens his eyes wide and squeezes your hips so hard that you are sure that the dress was torn.

- You're so big... - You didn't lie, Art's dick isn't as long as Patrick's, but his girth stretches you out much better. - So good, Art.

A man bites his lip when he hears his name from your lips, it is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. You both breathe heavily, getting used to the feeling of complete intimacy, you suddenly realize that you are not using a condom (if you believe Patrick’s stories, Art has never been with anyone at all).

You wiggle your hips, smiling predatorily at another hoarse moan, you always liked men who were not shy about the fact that they were receiving pleasure, and Art, with his heightened sensitivity, was just like that.

You lower your hot palms onto his chest, play with the short blond hairs and lean on him, starting to lift your hips.

Art huffs and whines beneath you, his strong hands gripping the blanket until his skin turns white. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, trying not to close his eyes from the pleasure that you and your beautiful velvet pussy give him, which hugs him so tightly that you want to howl.

- I feel you so deeply... - You push back the unruly hair from your face and smile, it was always nice to be filled, especially with Art. With him you feel a certain exclusivity; he seemed to be in inhuman bliss.

- Please, I... Damn! - Art sharply raises his hips and you hear a loud slap with which your bodies met.

- Touch me. - Art immediately slides his hand between your bodies and rubs your clitoris with his thumb. You spread your legs wider so he can see exactly how he slides in and out of you. - It’s so nice, Art.

His name sounds like a song from your lips and Art moves his hands to your waist, helping you move faster. He feels his own dick twitching and tries not to cum at the moment when you squeeze him especially tightly.

- I'm going to cum. - Your voice trembles and you moan, throwing your head back. - Do not stop...

Art continues to move inside you, cumming profusely and swallowing all his sounds, wanting to listen to your delicious sighs longer. You feel a mixture of your secretions flowing out of you, you feel how Art becomes softer inside you. You feel like you did everything right.

- I think we need to call Patrick. - You're breaking the "We don't talk about Patrick anymore" rule. - I'll take my things.

- I will help you. - Art gently traces circles on the skin of your thighs, the fact that you were still connected did not bother either of you. - I have plenty of space at home.

[s-brant]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

“wow genuinely your steve fics are so good and seem to be super well thought out i’m literally scared that a prompt i send won’t be good enough!! i dont know i want to say “we shouldn’t be doing this” sex w steve because i’m a whore for it”

7k (18+)

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, exhibitionism, praise kink, very slight dub-con if you squint due to wording but not really, it’s also just assumed reader is on the pill, and strong language.

This is wrong.

She knows that she shouldn't be thinking or feeling any of the things she is at the moment, but, when she looks up from her spot on the floor in the Wheeler's basement to find Steve staring at her, she cannot ignore the butterflies that stir to life in her stomach. Those pretty brown eyes of his are quick to avert back to the task at hand, but, for the short few seconds that they lock eyes, his lips twitch with the urge to curl up into a smile at her.

The thing is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly fucking for a few weeks now. In her defense, she didn't actively seek him out for the sake of having sex with him.

It was dark and rainy that night, and she was caught up in the storm on her bike as she pedaled home from cheer practice, eyes nearly shut from the wind that blew up the street at her face. The uniform she donned all afternoon was drenched from the downpour, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face as well. It annoyed her that she was two miles from home and her useless mother couldn't be bothered to part with her boyfriend to drive to get her, sure, but she tried not to let it bring her down.

Then, out of the gloom that hung over Hawkins, the headlights of a familiar BMW came up over the hill in the road to shine in her face, and she knew it was Steve before he even had the chance to slow to a stop and roll down his window to talk to her. If anyone else did this—even him a few years ago when he'd been the king of Hawkins High School—they'd come off as a creep, but it was Steve. Her best friend Nancy's sweet, if not a little clueless, ex-boyfriend who babysits her brother and his best friends. There was nothing to worry about.

He asked incredulously, "What are you doing out in this?" The doors to the car unlocked with a click. "Come on, I'll take you the rest of the way. You're gonna get sick."

So, she went. Her bike barely fit in the back of the car, and once she slammed the door shut, he wasted little time in driving off into the rainy night.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was gonna go ask Nance if I could crash in the basement. My mom didn't answer, and when she doesn't answer, it's probably not a good idea to come home unless I want to walk in on something that'll make me wanna bleach my eyes. Learned that lesson the hard way."

The sound of his melodic laugh filled the car, then, when she just stared at him, the amusement fell from his face.

"Oh, you're not kidding?"

It was her turn to laugh.

"I wish," she said, cutting him a sidelong glance before setting her sights back on the road ahead. "She and her weirdo boyfriend literally demand that I don't come home on nights he's over. Apparently, it's their constitutional right to fuck on the kitchen counter, I don't know."

There was a dip of silence in which neither of them said a word after that.

In his peripheral vision, he could see her fiddling with the hem of her soaked cheer skirt awkwardly as she avoided looking at him at all costs, and, suddenly, something changed.

Y/N had befriended Nancy shortly before their breakup, so he hasn't been in close proximity to her many times. Seeing that they've been broken up for a year, he doesn't have a reason to interact with her except for when he's picking up or dropping off the kids from the Wheeler's house when she's hanging out there. But, that night in his car, she was acting strange around him. Strange in the way that girls used to act around him all the time back when they hoped and prayed for a chance with the most popular guy at school. He didn't understand why she was behaving in such a way now, though. The way he saw it, he was a loser who couldn't even get into college like his other classmates and worked at Family Video.

What he didn't know, however, is that she didn't think he was a loser at all. If anything, her view on him then made a complete turnaround compared to when he was dating her best friend. When she got stuck with him and the kids last year at Joyce Byers' house and watched him go head-to-head with Billy in defense of Lucas, she knew a small part of her heart would always belong to Steve Harrington. She was the one to clean the cuts lining his face, as well as the blooded nose caused by the beating he took, and place bandaids from under the Byers' sink on each one of them. After that, she didn't see him again outside of fleeting glances in the hallway and through the windows of his car parked outside the Wheeler's place until recently.

He said, trying to keep his cool with the smoking hot girl he never noticed last year due to his Nancy-induced heartache sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, "I just dropped Dustin off at Mike's and Nancy was on her way out to see Jonathan."

She asked, "How about your place, then?" and the rest was history.

It wasn't even a half hour later that she was laid back on his couch with his head buried between her thighs and a hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she panted for air amidst the build-up to her orgasm. Then, after she woke in his bedroom and snuck out of the front door before his parents could notice her presence in the house, it wasn't long before they crossed paths again...and again and again. She'd wait around the back of the school where she knew Nancy wouldn't see for him to pick her up from school after his shift at Family Video, and they began to develop a routine of swimming in his pool, having dinner together since his parents couldn't be bothered to hang around with him, and having sex before he had to drive her back home in time to do her homework before bed.

As far as she was concerned, they were just having fun and not labeling whatever it was that was going on between them. Steve, on the other hand, was already imagining how her name might sound with his last name attached to the end of it.

Now, as they're sitting in Nancy's basement and helping the kids with the projects they waited until the very last second to start, he's still fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with her. Not just sexually, either. He's been trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date for the past few days, but every time he tries, his nerves get in the way. That voice in the back of his mind sings its doubts, telling him that she'll never want him in the same way that he wants her. No one has ever wanted him to be the one, so why should it start with her?

When Steve gets up from the couch to pay for the pizza they ordered to the house, Nancy casts a look over her should at him to ensure he's too far to hear and scoots closer to Y/N while the kids are engrossed in their own conversations.

She whispers, "Can I tell you something? It's about Steve..."

Anxiety tightens the muscles of Y/N's chest as she tries to keep her face schooled into a mask of neutrality. Although she feels like the truth is written across her face every time she comes into the presence of her best friend, she is outwardly as calm as can be. She doesn't know whether or not she should take pride in the skill she's acquired in lying since she and Steve began hooking up.

What else can she do except nod?

Nancy goes on in a hushed tone, "I've been kind of having these...feelings for him again lately. Feelings I haven't had since we were together before. And I love Jonathan, I do, but I guess I'm just worried about what I'm missing. I just don't know if I made the right choice now that these feelings are back." As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head and shuts her as if that'll take them back. "That was so fucked up of me to say, I'm sorry."

The news sinks home inside of her like lead weighing her down at the bottom of her stomach. Part of the reason she hadn't bothered entertaining the curious side of her that wondered if Steve felt anything more for her in the quiet moments after they had sex, when he'd linger on top of her for a few seconds longer and murmur his praises into the warm curve of her neck, was because she'd be confronted with the issue of her best friend being his ex. Granted, they weren't best friends for the majority of the time they dated. She was more of a post-Steve thing, but that isn't the point. The point is, her own moral code, as well as girl code, dictates that Steve is strictly off limits. But, if that's true, why does she want him so badly?

But because of this, she cannot do anything other than force a reassuring smile on her face as she reaches for her friend's hand and whispers, "Thoughts aren't inherently bad or good, they're just thoughts. Everyone has doubts to themselves, but I think it's important to remember how well you and Jonathan work together. I mean, he was the reason you left Steve in the first place."

The words she doesn't speak aloud but feels clawing at her from the inside begging to be released are something along the lines of, Please, don't drag him back just to break his heart again in another year. Don't steal him away if you don't really want him. But, she can't say that, not because it isn't her honest opinion regardless of her current relationship with him, but because Nancy would know based on the waver in her voice that something is going on between them.

To her mortification, her words don't appear to help the difficult debate waging war on Nancy's mind. If anything, it muddles things further and creates more discourse.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, but..." Of course, there's a but. "What if my instinct is trying to tell me something and I'm ignoring it?"

There's a drawn-out pause, then—

"Maybe just wait and see how you feel for a few more weeks before you say or do anything. It might just be one of those things that comes and goes, y'know?"

Nancy is quick to nod, setting her focus back on the partially painted piece of cardboard belonging to Max's unfinished project. For another minute or so, Y/N can't do anything but focus on her out of the corner of her eye, worry stirring to life within that the happiness she's experienced in the past few weeks will be taken from her the second Nancy decides to talk about the feelings she's having.

Steve isn't hers, so why does she feel this nagging possessive instinct whenever she imagines her friend acting on the feelings she just admitted to having? She never realized until now, but she doesn't think she can share him. Whether that means they will soon need to have a talk about their arrangement and how the feelings she's having are getting in the way of it being just "fun" or not, she isn't sure, but she knows one thing.

She needs to find him.

Y/N sets down what she'd been working in favor of standing from her spot on the floor, knees tucked beneath her bottom on a stray cushion, and offers up a placating smile when multiple faces around the room perk up to see why she's leaving.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks.

"Bathroom," she says. "Be right back."

With a quick, worried glance at Nancy calms her nerves instantly. There's no suspicion present on her friend's face. If anything, she's too focused on the task at hand, as well as the difficult debate going on within her head over the whole Steve versus Jonathan thing that has existed since junior year of high school, to notice or care about her sneaking away to "use the bathroom". It allows Y/N's racing heart to slow momentarily as she ascends the old staircase to the Wheeler's basement and enters the main level of the house. Slowly, carefully, she shuts the door to the basement behind her to keep any conversation she may have with Steve as private as possible.

The bright array of cozy lights strung up around the Christmas tree positioned in the corner of the living room passes in her periphery on her way to the front door where she sees Steve talking to the pizza guy with one hand casually propped against the open door. She assumes it must be an old friend, perhaps someone who used to be on the varsity basketball or baseball team with him back when they were in school together, but it matters little to her who they are at the moment. The only thing she can think to do is stake her claim before it's too late. Or, at least, have one last good night with him before Nancy takes him back.

She waits with her back leaned up against the staircase railing and watches him take the stack of three boxes from the delivery man after handing him the cash as payment.

"Alright, have a nice night, man," Steve says.

The man lifts a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder as he's turning to walk off in the direction of his parked car, and, with that, the front door swings shut. When he turns around with the pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand, it's difficult not to flinch and drop them all to the floor at the unexpected sight of her standing there.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," he says after a second is taken to steady himself, one hand pressed over his chest as though to soothe his heart after the drastic shock it received. When she remains quiet, he furrows his brows, continuing, "You're really quiet right now. It's actually kind of creepy." His voice then quiets as a new thought comes to him. "...Unless it's a weird sex thing, then I might like it."

All she does is allow her lips to curl up a bit at the ends in a slight smile before she turns to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The living room is being used by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler to watch a popular movie Steve so kindly held aside at Family Video for them when they asked Y/N if he could do so. And, of course, since she was the one who asked, it was delivered right to Mrs. Wheeler the second he arrived tonight.

In fact, the exact words he said, although quietly so anyone at the store couldn't hear, when she asked was, "Sure. Anything for my girl."

My girl.

As she walks through the entrance to the kitchen with her back to him, she picks the two words apart over and over again. Particularly, she gets stuck on the first one. My. It lights a fire in the pit of her abdomen, desire flaring to life at the memory of him casually declaring her as something that belonged to him. My. A possessive word. One he had been comfortable in using. The question is, would he be comfortable with it the other way around? The voice in the back of her head can't help but wonder...

Is Steve hers?

He keeps eyeing her up suspiciously throughout the process of setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island one by one and checking to make sure they're what they ordered before the delivery man pulls out of the driveway. Once it's confirmed that they are, in fact, two plain cheese pizzas and one pepperoni for Max and Dustin, he pauses to call her odd behavior into question again.

Steve asks, "Okay, you're really starting to freak me out. Are you okay? Did I do something?" She doesn't allow her face to give away any of her true intentions as she walks around the island, making sure in her peripheral vision that there's no one around to see them as she approaches. "If I did something, you can just tell me—”

His sentence is cut off at the end by her kissing him to shut him up.

It's a surprise, sure, but it doesn't take him any longer than a second or two to realize what's happening and react accordingly. As if it's an instinct as natural as breathing, he kisses her back with an urgency that brings a flushed color to his cheeks and settles both hands on her hips to tug them closer. The warmth of his fingertips touching the stretch of bare skin between her slightly too-short sweater and jeans draws a barely-audible noise from the back of her throat. But, he hears it. He always picks up on those little things about her, whether they be sounds, expressions she makes, or anything of the sort.

The kiss is cut short a second or two later out of fear of someone walking in, but his hands refuse to stray from her hips when she pulls away with a look in her eyes he knows all too well. Her pupils are blown wide with lush, glazed-over in a way they never get outside of moments such as these, and he knows straight away what she wants from him.

He asks, "So, it was a sex thing?"

Finally, she can't help but break her act of stoicism and offers him a bright smile.

"Shut up and follow me."

"What about the kids—"

The sharp tug of her hand wrapped around his wrist brings him away from the kitchen island, bringing him along in every step she takes toward the entrance to the hallway. She doesn't bother to look over his shoulder when she next speaks. Instead, she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze to get the same sentiment across as the words leave her mouth.

"They think I'm in the bathroom. And, for all they know, you could be outside talking to the pizza guy," she offers.

It's settled, then.

Still, in the time it takes her to drag him down the hall and up the staircase behind her, Steve can't help but check over his shoulder multiple times to ensure Nancy, Robin, the kids, or Nancy's parents didn't see them leaving to go up the stairs. The last thing he expected tonight was for her to pounce on him like a feral animal and drag him upstairs to have her way with him in a house filled with people. They've done it in risky places before, like on the break room table at Family Video and his car parked at Lover's Lake, but they've never done it in a place as risky as Nancy's house.

Despite the mild confusion it causes, whatever it is that has gotten into her, he prays it never leaves. It isn't unusual for her to initiate sex with him. Hell, half the time, she's the one who leans in to kiss him first or calls to ask if he's home, but he has always been the one to initiate in situations like these. It was his idea to fuck her on the break room table just like it was his idea to bend her over the hood of his car at Lover's Lake last week.

Every door they pass and briefly pause at is a no-go. Mike's room? Absolutely not. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's room? Never. Holly's room? That would be the most deplorable thing either of them has ever done. So, when they reach Nancy's half-open bedroom at the end of the hallway, Y/N has no other choice but to pull him inside and push him up against the shut door.

In between the eager, open-mouthed kisses she gives him, he murmurs, "We shouldn't be doing this. Nance will literally murder us if she finds out."

She shakes her head into the kiss and pulls back, breathless, to say, "Then, we're gonna have to be quiet, huh?" before promptly reconnecting their mouths.

His face lights up at the mischievous tone her voice takes, and he can't ignore how his cock starts to strain against the tight denim of his Levi's at the mere thought of fucking her while everyone else is unaware downstairs. She can feel him smirk against her lips, his chest jerking with the sound of him chuckling to himself at how this girl has him wrapped around her finger.

And there it is. With a conflicted feeling of acceptance, he finally realizes he's falling in love again.

As soon as he realizes that this is real, that they're truly about to do this, Steve takes control of the situation in a matter of seconds. His hands make quick work of tugging her sweater off of her body. Her arms rise to make the task easier for him as he frantically undresses her and tosses the knitted fabric onto the floor behind the locked bedroom door. When she's free of the confines of her warm sweater, she then reaches for his shirt and rips it off with the same frantic nature he had with her. There's a time and place for unhurried, slow sex, but this is not one of them. By her estimation, they have five minutes to spare before their friends notice their absence and begin to question their whereabouts.

He hefts her up into her arms with his hands grasping the backs of her thighs to bring them around his hips, but right before he can set her down on the bed, she shakes her head.

"No, Steve, the headboard hitting the wall will be too loud."

This earns a scoff from him.

Though he'd never be dumb enough to bring up his ex while he's about to have sex with her, Steve is as familiar with Nancy's room as she is, if not more. After all, he snuck inside a handful of times and had to get creative so as to not allow her parents to hear what they were doing while they were asleep across the hallway. Her headboard does bang against the wall, that she's right about, but her mattress doesn't creak much, and if he puts a few of her pillows between the wall and the headboard...

He tosses her down onto the bed with ease and crawls up to meet her where she lays with her head cradled against one of the pillows. His hand reaches to the side to grab the other one and maneuvers it between the wall and headboard, then grabs one of the many decorative ones to do the same on the other end before coming back to her.

Ignoring her previous statement entirely, Steve asks, "You're real cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

The button and zipper to her jeans come undone with a few deft movements of his fingers, and she can't help but grin up at him in spite of her fear of getting caught as he pulls her pants and underwear down her legs in one smooth motion.

There's something better to her about being called cute or beautiful by him rather than the typical "hot" label guys have thrown at her. Don't get her wrong, being called hot is flattering in circumstances of one-night stands or even random compliments from those she likes, but having the guy you like call you cute or beautiful in a moment of heady desire is different. She knows by the way he said it alone that she isn't just an easy fuck to him. He genuinely likes her, and that's not something she ever expected to happen seeing that he used to be a well-known jerk as well as her best friend's ex-boyfriend.

He hardly has the chance to undo his own jeans and shove them partway down his thighs before she's tugging him down onto her with a needy plea for him to fuck her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he kisses her, his tongue invading her mouth without warning, and uses one of his hands to guide his cock through her sticky folds. When his tip rubs against her throbbing clit, she can't help but whisper more desperately, urging him to get on with it.

"Steve," she says, a sharp gasp escaping at the feeling of his tip against her entrance, "Please"—her hips press up to sink the tip of his cock into her a little more—"Need you."

Usually, he'd be the insufferable little bastard he always is and retort something like, "Yeah?" or "Tell me what you need from me," for the sake of getting her to blush for him, but they have already used up at least a minute of their time before things become suspicious, so he gives her what she wants without protest.

She cries out beneath him when he sinks into her with no opportunity for her to gradually adjust to his thick cock. Her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks indented into him. Before she can think to make another noise again, though, Steve's hand is covering her mouth.

His eyes have gone wide, and the smooth motion of his hips stalling for a second as he listens for anyone coming up the stairs before he pulls his hand from her face. Somewhere to the right of her body, he reaches to grab something she cannot be bothered to look at.

He says softly, "Gotta be quiet, baby," and stuffs the shirt Nancy left on the bed into her open mouth.

Y/N doesn't even have the chance to be shocked or turned on by the fact that he gagged her with his ex-girlfriend's shirt—while they're fucking on her bed—because he starts to move the second he's sure her noises won't get them caught. Well, at least, the noises coming from her mouth. As for the sound of their bodies smacking together, as well as the wet squelching sound that accompanies it from how wet she is, whether or not anyone hears that is left up to chance.

His arms are braced against the bed on either side of her head, caging her in and forcing her to look at him while he ruins her. It doesn't take much for her to feel that fire in the pit of her belly flare up. All it takes is the feeling of him pushing in and out of her, the spare hair at the base of his cock brushing against her clit on the upstroke, and she's melting in his arms.

Seeing Steve above her is like seeing every one of her wet dreams come to life. Sometimes she does dream about him. Whether it be when she's alone in her bedroom or sleeping beside him on nights they're both too exhausted to stray from his bed, she'll wake on the edge of climaxing with her hands balling up the sheets into a fist. When she's alone, she'll take care of it herself. When she's with him, she'll roll over and start nudging her face into the curve of his neck, peppering kisses there until he begins to stir from his sleep.

The sound of her muffled moans coming through the makeshift gag encourages him in his efforts to press himself deeper inside of her on every thrust. One of the hands beside her head grasps one of the posts of Nancy's headboard for leverage while the other slips down between their bodies to press down on the lowest point of her abdomen. When he puts pressure there, it intensifies the pleasure felt from the steady rocking motions he makes into her, and she can't help but buck her hips up to meet his thrusts.

The heel of his hand presses down right above her pubic bone, leaving his fingertips in a perfect position to rub her clit for her. He knows they have very little time, so he doesn't bother trying to get her to come from penetration alone like he often does when they're alone in his empty house while his parents are out. Before him, she never even knew that was something her body was capable of. That's not to say every other guy before him was terrible in bed, but there's a reason he gained a good reputation with the ladies in Hawkins. The first of which was that he had, as she already knew from girls who gossiped about hooking up with him, a big dick. The second and most important reason of all was that he knew what to do with it.

The sight of her breasts bouncing, although hindered slightly by the bra they couldn't be bothered to remove, brings him closer to his end quicker than he expected. He'd like to think he's experienced enough to spend more than a minute and a half fucking a girl before he feels himself getting close, but, with her, one would think he's a touch-starved virgin with how easy it is for her to work him up.

His forehead drops down to press against hers as he mutters, "God, you're fucking perfect," with the words pitching up into a whine at the end from how she clenches around him.

Just when he thinks he can feel her tensing up and writhing beneath him with the build-up to her orgasm, someone knocks on the bedroom door.

He goes as still as death, and Y/N, too lost in a world that solely consists of Steve Harrington and nothing else, looks up at him with her brows scrunching in confusion until she too hears what drew his attention away from her and caused him to stop.

"Y/N?"

Her eyes go wide at the sound of Nancy's voice, her hand coming up to rip the balled-up shirt out of her mouth in time to respond to her. But, of course, Steve would never let her off that easily. As she opens her mouth to speak, he starts to thrust into her again—slowly, deeply—and it takes everything she has not to whine his name as he rubs her sensitive clit in lazy circular motions to interrupt her train of thought. With the careful pace set and the pillows preventing the headboard from hitting the wall, the bed's constant shifting doesn't make enough noise to alert Nancy of what's happening inside.

She clears her throat and calls out before he can snap his hips forward into hers again, "Yeah? What's up?"

The doorknob rattles as though the person behind the door is trying to get in.

"Why is the door locked?"

Y/N looks up at Steve with pleading eyes that beg him to cease this torture and allow her the time to respond, but he doesn't. He just dips his head down to kiss at her neck, careful not to leave a mark behind, and leaves her to fend for herself.

"Um," she says, voice a tad louder than she intended from a particularly hard jerk of his hips, and rushes to cover up the accidental outburst, "I figured I'd change into my pajamas for the night. If we're gonna be eating a lot of pizza I don't really wanna"—a whimper is choked back at his fingers speeding up their movement on her clit—"be uncomfortable in my jeans."

"Oh, okay. Well, we're all downstairs whenever you're done." There's a dip of silence, as though Nancy is hesitating before saying what comes next, then, "Have you seen Steve? Dustin was looking for him when he came upstairs. None of us can find him."

Under his breath, he murmurs in annoyance with his hot exhales puffing against her ear, shaking his head, "Henderson."

Of course, Dustin would be the one to send Nancy upstairs in search of him when he's seconds from coming inside her best friend.

Her cock-drunk brain takes a delayed few seconds to conjure a believable alibi for the man fucking her into the mattress right now as she claws at his back and bites down on his shoulder to stifle the moans that try to escape the back of her throat. As Steve grows more and more confident with his ability to ramp up the pace and depth of his thrusts without the bed making too much noise, she starts to unravel rather quickly. She can sense it building in the bottom of her belly and starts shaking her head at him as if he can do anything to get Nancy to go away.

She has to concentrate all of her energy on keeping her voice steady as she says, "He said he was going out to get some soda for the kids 'cause he heard El asking Mike if you guys had some. He was just going to the store for it, so he'll probably be back in like ten minutes."

The second the last few words leave her, she tips over the edge, and his hand comes down to smother her mouth to prevent any noises she makes from echoing in the small room. Neither of them acknowledges whatever parting words Nancy offers before she retreats downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Steve is far too preoccupied with watching and, more importantly, feeling her come beneath him.

The euphoria rushing through her has tears falling from her watery eyes as she embraces the intense high with her arms clinging around his waist for support. Now that he hears Nancy bounding down the steps, every one creaking beneath her shifting weight, he pounds into her with no thoughts present in his head other than those relating to her and the climax he chases with little care for how the bed begins to squeak beneath them.

"Steve," she cries out with tears slipping down her cheeks.

He brushes her hair from her face in a soothing, repetitive motion and whispers, "Such a good girl," as he pins her to the bed with his weight and uses the remaining scraps of energy left in him to slam his hips down against hers with a ferocity she can hardly cope with in her sensitive state. It doesn't take any longer than a few seconds for him to be tipped over the edge along with her.

His eyes are squeezed shut on instinct when he spills into her, hips jerking haphazardly, but she's quick to remedy that.

"Look at me," she whispers with a hand closing around his neck to force his head up, and he obeys without hesitation.

And, of course, she was right to tell him to do so. As soon as he meets eyes with her, the explosive pleasure felt in the span of ten or so seconds it takes for him to ride it out is heightened to a degree he rarely experiences it at. Even as it begins to slip away from him, he keeps rocking into her at a slow pace until the dying undulations of his hips give way to an exhaustion he can no longer ignore.

He pulls out of her, careful in his movements to mind her sensitivity, and falls onto his back on the empty space atop the mattress beside her. The second he leaves her, she's quick to tug her discarded panties back up her legs to avoid staining Nancy's bedding with his cum.

His hair-smattered chest has a thin sheen of perspiration over it, a drop of it rolling up and down with the rapid rise and fall of his panting breaths. Y/N watches its path as she turns onto her side and scoots closer as subtly as she can to savor the warmth emanating from his body.

Steve doesn't even pretend not to notice her sneaky attempt at cuddling up to him. He stretches his left arm over her head and uses the other to scoop around her waist, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder how he knows she likes to. They don't have much time to spare, but, for the next half minute, they lay together in the afterglow and pretend they have eternity to waste away together.

Breaking the silence, he groans and rubs his eyes, saying, "Shit, now I have to go get soda for the kids."

The sound of her giggling brings his attention over to the pretty girl laying with her head on his shoulder. Her hand trances circles in the layer of sweat shining on his chest, playing with the hair growing there whenever she becomes bored with her designated pattern of tracing every once in a while.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anything else," she says softly.

He just shakes his head, then presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it."

She's the first one to leave the bed to search for her discarded clothes, and once she gets up, he doesn't have many reasons to continue laying there other than the fact that he gets especially tired after he comes. Still, he forced himself to get up out of bed after pulling his pants back up into place and zipping them up.

Together, they redress in silence and listen to the sounds of the younger teens shouting at each other and laughing in the kitchen below them. It brings a soft smile to her face to imagine everyone having fun together after all of the heartache they've shared as a group.

"What are you smiling for?" Steve asks.

Her head snaps up from where it had been craned down to search through her backpack for the pajamas she mentioned to Nancy not long ago.

She shrugs.

"I just like hearing them have fun. They deserve it after everything they've been through."

The conversation drops back off into silence again after this, and he can't help but smile to himself as he thinks over what she said, trying not to look up and watch her redress while doing it like a creep. It's only another minute that passes before they're both fully clothed again—he in the same outfit he was wearing prior to their impromptu fuck, she in the pink matching pajama set he's seen her wear a million times. Once she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, it looks as though nothing out of the ordinary happened during her trip upstairs.

While he waits for her to fold up the clothes she changed out of, sitting on the edge of the bed, a nagging curiosity compelled him to ask her, "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you so..." He trails off for a second, trying to find the right word for it. "Horny. We could've just gone on a drive to the store together and pulled over if you asked."

For the first time since she dragged Steve upstairs, the words Nancy said to her in the basement come back to the forefront of her mind. This time, however, it doesn't haunt her as much as it had before she came to find him. There's a lingering sense of insecurity, but after what just happened, she has a good feeling he's been over Nancy for a while. If he weren't, he probably would've freaked out and stopped when she knocked on the door, but he hadn't. Instead, he decided to keep going for the sake of teasing her and acted as though his ex wasn't even standing on the other side of the door.

Y/N avoids making eye contact with him at all costs when she finally answers.

"Um," she says, "When you went upstairs for the pizza, Nancy said something to me about wondering if she made a mistake breaking up with you, and I guess I got a little...jealous..."

Before he can even take a breath, let alone process everything she said and come up with a coherent response, she continues rambling out of fear of what he'll say when he responds. Part of her still fears that he'll end whatever it is they have for the sake of rekindling what he had with Nancy.

"I know we aren't—like—dating, obviously, but I haven't been with anyone else since we started doing this, and if you wanna get back together with Nancy, I won't get in the way. I promise. If that's what you want, it's fine." She starts to pace back and forth in front of where he sits, dumbfounded, on the foot of the bed. "I just—I like hanging out with you, and I guess I like you, and the idea of seeing you with anyone else makes me go nuts, so—"

This time, it's his turn to shut her up with a kiss.

She was so caught up in her improvised speech, she didn't even see him standing up from the bed until his hands were cupping her face to pull her into a desperate kiss. It doesn't last any longer than a moment, but, fuck, it makes her even weaker in the knees than she already is from getting fucked by him a few minutes ago. Her hands shoot out to grasp onto his biceps, squeezing hard to keep herself upright, and he reciprocates by allowing one of his arms to cocoon around her back to provide her additional security.

When he pulls away, she starts to chase his lips, and he must fight the urge to smile hard enough to make his cheeks ache at the sight of it. The hand cupping her face moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, then drags his pointer finger along the edge of her jaw until she opens her eyes to see him staring at her.

"I don't want Nance, I want you."

Heat rushes to her cheeks in response to his honesty to add to the flush already present there from the strenuous exercise they endured together. And he loved it. He relishes in how bashful and skittish his unabashed desire makes her. Typically, she never lacks confidence in their time spent together. She was the one who suggested they go to his place that first night when he found her biking home in the rain. She was the one who dragged him upstairs demanding they have sex. Yet, now, she's turning all shy on him.

She tries her hardest to play it cool, though, shrugging and saying through a smile, "Good," before taking his hand to drag him over to the window he used to use to sneak into Nancy's room.

It's the same window she uses to sneak into her room on nights when Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler say no to their daughter's pleas to have her friend over, so she's quite familiar with how easy it is to enter and exit from. Thank God he has his wallet and keys stowed in the pockets of his jeans. If he left them downstairs, he could always go out and window and come through the front door pretending he "forgot" them, but that wouldn't be the most believable excuse considering how long he's been gone.

Seconds after she opens the window, he's crawling through with a fumbling awkwardness that ends with him bumping his head on the side of the house with a soft, "Ouch!" muttered into the cold night air.

When he's finally settled on the other side of the window, standing on the roof of the garage with his hands gripping the window sill, he takes another few seconds to look at her.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight. I didn't know you were sleeping here," he says, not wanting to leave just yet.

To this, she simply bends down, pokes her head through the window, and kisses him goodbye. Her hand grasps the hair at the base of his neck to guide him into it, and he returns the enthusiasm immediately, rising onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss as if doing so will make the short time they're to spend apart easier somehow.

Their lips are still brushing when she pulls back to whisper, "I'm coming over tomorrow night, remember?"

He pecks her lips again, then pulls back, saying, "It's a date."

Throughout the ordeal of Steve jumping down from the roof and landing on his feet in the driveway with a muffled groan, she watches with a goofy smile on her face from the bedroom window. The look he shoots over his shoulder at her to check if she saw him stumble on the landing only widens that smile, and she knows he's blushing in embarrassment without the porch light being on to light his face.

It's only when he drives off in the direction of the nearest store that she shuts the window to keep out the cold that's raising goosebumps on her skin and turns to lean against it with a sigh. It isn't an exasperated one or even a sad one. It's a sigh caused by disbelief and joy. It doesn't matter that he's her best friend's ex at the moment. They'll find a way to break the news with as little fallout as possible when the time comes.

The only thing that matters to her at the moment is that he wants her.

[synnamonroll666]

Can you Josh x black female reader whose feeling a little insecure so they have mirror sex while he tells her especially and in GREAT detail what he likes about her??

Tell Me You're Beautiful

Pairing: Josh Washington x Black Fem!Reader Description: After a full day of no replies to his texts, Josh went to his girlfriend's house to find her hiding in her room. After learning that insecurities are keeping her in bed and none of the usual compliments working to cheer her up, he decided to show her how he sees her in a different way... Warnings: Angst, Reader Is Very Insecure, Self-Hatred, Smut, Soft Dom!Josh, Mirror Sex, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex But No Creampie, Third Person POV, Specific Descriptions Of The Reader. (If I Missed Any Tags, Let Me Know.) Word Count: 2k A/N: I'm so sorry this too so long but if any of you follow me, you know I'm indecisive as fuck with editing. 😂 Also, someone requested another black fem!reader on my other blog, about Josh and the reader playing 7 minutes in heaven. They asked if I could make it spicy so I'm going to do that one on this blog instead since this is my smut one. So if that anon is reading this, just know that I did get your request and I am working on it. And to the anon who requested this fic, I hope you enjoy it. I may have went a little more dramatic with it than intended but I tried my best. 😅🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

She laid curled up in bed, a large hoodie covering her form and a look of sadness pulling down her features. Her phone had been blowing up all day. Friends asked her to go on outings, and her boyfriend, who was concerned by her absence.

It was 3 p.m. when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. Figuring it was only her mother, she gave acceptance to them entering, only to be left dumbfounded when her boyfriend, Josh, came through with a very worried expression on his face.

"Josh, please! I need to be alone right now." She expressed this while pulling the blanket up her chest, subconsciously wanting to hide away from his watchful eyes.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He asked while stepping into the room, despite her protest.

He immediately came to her side, concern evident in his features. He was always one to care—always so quick to throw everything out the window and run to her beck and call. He was always her hero, even if he was the one who needed saving. But that wasn't important now. What really mattered was fixing whatever had her so broken down.

"Please, (Y/N)... Tell me what's wrong." He practically begged, just hoping it was nothing too big that he couldn't fix. Even then, he would go to great lengths to at least make it better.

"It's just..." She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, as her brown eyes gazed up at him through her tears. He nodded his head while taking her small hands in his own, urging her to continue. And with a deep breath, she finally got what's been killing her inside off her chest. "I can't stand myself..."

Josh could only respond with a quiet "Huh?" not fully understanding what she had meant. She shook her head, not wishing to elaborate but finally finding the words after releasing a subtle sigh.

"I can't even look at myself. I'm not like those girls in the magazines. I'm not special." She admitted it shamefully, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie as she did so.

Josh understood these feelings. Despite his confident demeanor, he was just as insecure as most people. Hell, maybe even more. He hated that she felt this gut-wrenching feeling. However, he knew he could remedy this.

"You're wrong." He stated it firmly, his voice now so strong and confident, it caused her to do a double take back in his direction. "You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Most guys would give their left nut to be with you."

She scoffed at his comment and rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that..."

Though she appreciated his efforts, it would take more to convince her just how beautiful she really was. Josh knew this and made a vow within his mind that he would do everything in his power to prove it to her—to make her see herself through his eyes.

"Stand up." He then demanded. The command took her by surprise, though she obeyed his order, standing to her full height. It didn't do much, though, as he still towered over her by quite a lot. His height was always something she admired about him. It made her feel safe.

He took her by the arm and pulled her in front of her full-body mirror. Her gaze dropped, reluctant to look at the image reflected before her. She didn't want to see it—the reflection of the girl she, unfortunately, was. Josh shook his head at this.

"Look." he demanded firmly.

A mere minute passed of her not daring to do what she was told before he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. Though it was a startling gesture, his touch was soft and gentle, as if she were fine glass in his large hands. Her eyes began to tear up as she looked at herself, seeing nothing but flaws before her.

"Tell me what you see." His voice came out a little softer than before, but it was still nothing less than the demand he gave right before.

"Just a girl..." She responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head again, slightly frustrated that she didn't understand what he was trying to show her. But he knew this would take more work. He knew what he had to do.

"Take your clothes off."

Her lips fell agape as she looked at his reflection, astonished that he would ask such a thing. Though she really didn't want to see herself naked, she was intrigued. Though the request was rather suggestive, the look in his soft, green orbs told a different story—one that told her that his intentions were not crude.

She pulled her hood back, the coils in her soft hair falling gracefully over her shoulder as she did so. His eyes lit up, and he reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear to admire her face.

Then she pulled it over her head, revealing her white tank top beneath. His fingers grazed her soft shoulders as she toyed with the hem of her shirt, not knowing if she wanted to do such a thing at this moment.

"Show me," he coaxed her in a soft tone before pressing a soft kiss on her tear-soaked cheek.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her tank top over her head. Her soft breasts bounced slightly as they were freed from the confinement of their fabricated prison, and Josh couldn't help but smirk just a little as he watched. He was still a man, after all.

Then, she found the courage to remove her shorts and panties, throwing them on the floor in a messy pile with her hoodie and tank top. Without skipping a beat, Josh reached up and turned the knob on her lamp, putting her under what felt like a literal spotlight. Her stomach twisted into knots as she folded her arms across her chest, not wanting Josh to see her flaws that were so obvious under the bright light.

But then she felt his hands on her shoulders once more, squeezing ever so slightly. She looked up to see him watching her through the mirror, his eyes glimmering with love. He removed one hand from her shoulder, and soon, the sound of a belt buckle being opened was heard.

She didn't know how she ended up in this situation anymore, but something about it felt pleasant. She was with the man she loved. And though she was in this uncomfortable position, she knew she was in good hands.

Josh entered her from behind, letting out a trembling breath as he pushed every inch into her tight hole. She bit her plump lip, trying hard not to moan like a pornstar already. Though she knew it was something Josh loved.

Once he was inside her fully, he retracted his hips before pushing in again with more force. She almost fell forward—face nearly clashing with the glass before her—but Josh was quick to scoop an arm around her frame, pulling her close to his chest.

He found himself a steady rhythm and watched her reaction through the reflection, enjoying how her lips turned all pouty as she moaned or how her eyes went watery and lidded from the pleasure. That's when he decided to do his work. Of course, fucking her insecurities away wasn't going to work. He needed to do more.

He let his lips graze the shell of her ear and whispered, "Wanna know what I see?"

Her eyes opened at that, not knowing how to respond. She was still half-intoxicated by the arousal she felt to even comprehend exactly what he meant by that. Smirking at her distracted nature, Josh decided to continue anyway.

"I see a beautiful, strong goddess of a woman." He groaned, his breath hitching in his throat, when her soaked pussy squeezed him. It was clear she was enjoying the praise, so he continued on, wanting to show his girl just how amazing she was. "You're so soft—so tight. Everything about you is perfect."

Her cheeks warmed up from this treatment, flustering her mind and clouding it with something new besides pleasure. She wanted to collapse in his embrace—to just let go of all her worry and let him be the one to guide her to the light. Josh's words brought her back to reality for a short moment, only to send her crashing into bliss once more.

"The way your hair smells and feels," he said, burying his face into her soft coils, inhaling deeply to take in her scent.

"Your skin, the perfect shade of chocolate, and how it's just as sweet," he kissed her neck, his tongue swirling around the pulse, earning a heavenly moan from her trembling lips.

His hips faltered for a moment, as her sounds rang through his ears like the song of a goddess, the one he knew she was.

"How your gorgeous brown eyes reflect your warm personality." He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger once more to turn her head so he could gaze down into her orbs with a tender look to show his sincerity.

Her dark eyes brightened under the small light as she looked up at him, showing off all the beautiful shades of brown within her iris. They not only show the unique patterns but also her shimmering soul—like an angel in heaven's light.

"I love how they tell me your every want and desire." With that being said, he reached a hand down, two fingers brushing against her clit. The brief and subtle contact was enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head, and his smile broadened, knowing damn well that he was successful. He pushed her face back to the mirror, holding it there to force her eyes on herself. "Now tell me how beautiful you are."

"I-I'm beautiful..." She murmured through ragged breaths, not realizing her words. It worked like some sort of hypnosis in a way, subconsciously putting the message into her mind through pleasure.

"Louder," he demanded, his fingers finding purchase on her swollen little bud to rub tight circles around it.

"I'm b-beautiful!" She groaned as her body began shaking under his intoxicating touch.

Josh gritted his teeth as his cock throbbed within her, begging for release. He was so close, but he knew she was as well. He wanted his angel to make it to the edge first, with the message of how amazing she was engraved in her mind.

"Louder!" He shouted through his clenched canines, pushing his cock harder and deeper within her with each sloppy thrust.

"I'm beautiful!" She cried out as tears streamed down her face.

And like a wildfire, that intense sensation burning within her core spread throughout her body. He held her close as she rode through her high on his dick, keeping her in his warm embrace as he worked her through it.

When she squeezed his member, he couldn't hold on any longer. He pulled out and released his load onto her ass, nearly cumming a second time from how hot the sight was before him. It was like marking her, in a way—claiming her as his.

As he admired her body while coming down from his high, her eyes remained on herself through that reflection on the now-steamy glass. She wiped her hand over the cool surface to clear her vision of herself, and she continued to stare as her chest rose and fell with each soft breath she took.

"I'm beautiful..." She whispered, now believing that statement as it fell from her lips.

Josh wrapped his arms around her frame after brushing a few stray coils from her face. He pressed a soft kiss on her temple and then rested his head atop hers while gazing into her warm eyes through the mirror.

"You're not just beautiful," He murmured, admiring the goddess in his grasp and all her stunning features. "You're perfect, babe."

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ aftermath ] t. zegras

paring : Trevor Zegras x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) helps Trevor deal with Jamie leaving and breaking his ankle all in 24 hours

warning(s) : injury, some angst

author’s note : it’s me. hi. i’m the problem, it’s me

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She definitely believes in the snowball effect after the last 24 hours of her life. It’s one of the reasons why she’s currently on a flight in the middle of the night to Raleigh to meet her boyfriend’s hockey team at their hotel.

Both her life and Trevor’s life have changed so much in 24 hours. Trevor left with the Ducks for their road trip expecting to have a fun trip. His best friend was finally 21 and could enjoy all that Nashville had to offer.

Then Jamie got the call that no player ever really wants to get from their general manager.

Hours later, he was on a flight to Philly and leaving the Ducks and a distraught Trevor behind in Tennessee.

She should’ve gotten on a plane then and there. Instead, she tempted fate.

The next day was Trevor’s 200th career NHL game, and he had to play it without his best friend on the ice with him. (Y/N) happily watched from their apartment in Anaheim.

Until Trevor went down along the boards after 3 shifts and two minutes total on the ice. She was on her feet as she watched her boyfriend get helped down the tunnel. He wasn’t putting any pressure on his left leg as the trainers helped him.

She blew up his phone with texts and calls until one in the morning California time. He never replied. Then she texted Mason and asked where the Ducks were staying in Raleigh. She booked a flight and asked Mason to get Trevor’s room number when they got there.

Luckily there was a nonstop flight to Raleigh that left from LAX at three that she just barely made. She packed a duffel bag and ran out the door to catch the flight.

After nearly five hours in the air and multiple timezone changes, (Y/N) lands in North Carolina. She left at three in the morning and landed at eleven in the morning. Mason’s text with Trevor’s room number and a he’s cranky comes through as she grabs her duffel from baggage claim.

Honestly, she should’ve gotten on a flight as soon as Trevor told her that Jamie got traded. This is what happens when you tempt fate.

She orders an Uber from the airport to the hotel where Trevor is staying with the Ducks.

Why he traveled with them after getting hurt is beyond her. Maybe it isn’t a long term injury and it’s just a sprain.

Either way, she’s about to find out.

After a ten minute debate with herself, she lightly knocks on Trevor’s door.

It’s a second before the door opens. As soon as it swings open though, her heart breaks at the sight behind it.

Trevor stands on crutches with his ankle wrapped. His eyes are red and puffy and it looks like he hasn’t slept a wink in two days. Honestly, he probably hasn’t.

"Trev," she pouts.

He shakes his head and quickly spins to walk back into the room. She follows him and lets the door shut behind her. "I don't want you here, (Y/N)," he tells her. The voice crack tells her all she needs to know. He does actually need her here.

"I don't care," she replies. "I'm here anyway." Trevor leans the crutches against the middle table and sits on the bed. "You haven't exactly had the best few days so I came to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not fucking okay!" Trevor shouts at her before rubbing his face and running his fingers through his hair to compose himself. "My best friend plays across the damn country now after getting traded out of nowhere and I might have just broken my damn ankle in a milestone game. I'm going to be out for like two months again."

(Y/N) crouches down in front of him and puts her hands on his knees. "I'm sorry, baby," she softly says. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel right now. I know Jamie's in Philly right now and I know you won't talk to anyone else about how you feel so that's why I'm here. I don't want you to bottle up your feelings."

"It just sucks," Trevor says, voice shaky. "Everything's changing and I don't like it. I'm probably going to have to go to Jamie's and pack his apartment so I can send his stuff to him, especially now that I'm out and won't be able to do anything."

She gets up and sits next to her boyfriend. She grabs one of his hands and holds it on her lap. She rubs the back of her hand with her thumb. Trevor leans over and drops his head to her shoulder. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and plays with his hair.

"I'm here," she whispers. "I don't care if you don't want me here. I'll always be here."

"I know," Trevor replies. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm just frustrated and confused and in pain."

(Y/N) kisses his temple and buries her face in his hair. "It's okay," she says. "You're feeling a lot right now so I don't blame you for anything you say right now. Just know that I'll be here the entire time. As for Jamie, you know he's a phone call away whenever you wanna talk to him. He'll answer every single time you call him."

He nods. "Yeah," he mumbles. "Can we lay down until I meet with the doctor?"

"Of course," she replies. "Whatever you wanna do. What time do you meet with the doctor?"

"Three," Trevor tells her as he gets comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he can since he's hurt. "I have to leave at two."

That's enough time for both of them to take a two hour nap.

She sets her alarm for 1:30 then settles in next to him. She wraps a leg around his waist and rests her head on his forehead while he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

"Thank you for coming," Trevor whispers, his voice tired. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she assures him. "Close your eyes for a bit. I'll wake you up when it's time to leave."

He nods and within seconds, his breathing evens out. She smiles and falls asleep herself knowing that Trevor is finally getting some rest.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

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taglist : @fanboysfangirl @dasiysthings @axaslee @dancerbailey3 @goldihocksrocks @love4lando @sweetinsatiable

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Dark! Tangerine » Scenario #1: Jealousy

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Jealous Tangerine thoughts.

WARNING: Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Manipulation. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Also this gif is perfect for this scenario, isn't it?

--

If you think that Tangerine isn’t a jealous man, then you’re living in a fantasy world. 

He is fueled by jealousy. 

Your boyfriend feels - nope, he knows - that more than half of the male population in the world is after you and that’s why he must keep you away from those pricks. 

Tangerine will openly forbid you from going out on your own, no matter how much you argue or beg. He’s inflexible when it comes to it and you also might as well forget about your job. He needs to know that you’re safely tucked in the comfort of his house, far away from any danger (aka any male specimen). 

Otherwise Tangerine won’t be able to concentrate on anything else, practically bursting a brain vein from overthinking. His mind making up the worst scenarios of creepy men flirting with you, trying to swoon you or even worse, to hurt you. Lemon does try his best to reason with his brother, but it’s a failed attempt as Tangerine is quite the stubborn man. 

If you try to escape the house to go somewhere, he’ll be so quick to find out where you are as your phone location is always available for him (you don’t know about this).

Chances are that you’ll be enjoying yourself at a coffee shop with some friends, assuming that your boyfriend is busy with a job outside the country meaning you won’t have to worry about rushing back home when suddenly a very angry Tangerine shows up, with ripped off clothes with blood stains all over and very little patience as he asks whether you want to come home willingly or should he drag you back. Your choice, of course.

You barely speak to him on your way home, bursting in tears of annoyance and shame the moment you get inside his car. Lemon tries his best to serve as a mediator and to calm you down but Tangerine’s rage is too big to be controlled as he shouts at you of how irresponsible you were. 

He’s not shy explaining and detailing all the possible scenarios that could happen to you. You do know that he has dangerous enemies, right? Enemies that won’t bat an eye before cutting you into tiny pieces to get revenge at him. Enemies that wouldn’t hesitate as they would fuck you like animals over and over till they left you broken.

Did you know that? Yeah, he didn’t think so either. Basically it’s a huge guilt-tripping session until you feel like - maybe - it’s actually your fault. Maybe Tangerine is right. He’s your boyfriend after all, right?

He only wants what’s best for you. Those are the words he repeats that night as he apologizes for yelling at you as he kisses your head, pulling you into a bear hug. 

He’d lose his mind if he ever lost you and that’s something you need to take into consideration. So promise him that you’ll be a good girl from now on and he might just let you out into the garden. 

“I care about you, ya know that, right? I’m so fuckin’ sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart, but you seriously’ scared the shit out of me. I swear that if anything happened to you…I’d just fuckin’ kill myself. You’re my life and that’s all I care about.” 

[whore-4-drewstarkey]

Lips of An Angel- Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

summary: based on the song Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. (take a listen! i recommend it!!) Y/N drunkenly calls up her ex boyfriend drew, to confess her love she still has for him and all her regrets from their past relationship.

warnings: odessa…., alcohol consumption, emotional cheating (if you even call it that), angst, a tad of fluff if you squint, slight mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse (not from drew), lmk if i forgot anything bc i’m sure i did lol.

a/n: for starters…. i’ve been waiting to write this one and i was gonna do it for rafe first but it just felt more right to do drew lol. also please don’t come at me for the way i put odessa in this. (personal opinion: i don’t think they’re really a thing irl but whatever). for the sake of this fic i had to put her in it to work as she’s the only prominent female in his life besides his sisters so bare with me please. (personally not a fan of her for my own reasons and things i’ve read) hope you all enjoy this one!

revised and edited by the one and only @slut4drudy ilyyyyy

as drew had just put the last of the champagne glasses into the sink from his and odessa’s small get together with friends, he could hear his phone ringing that all too familiar ringtone… the ringtone he had set for only her. he thought to himself… how strange it’d be for her to call him at such an absurd hour after not talking to one another in two years.

him and Y/N had began to date their senior year of college at western carolina university, and just like every college couple, they eventually broke it off a few years later. it had been a mutual agreement when he got cast on netflix’s show, outer banks, as she didn’t want to hold him back any longer from achieving all the goals she knew he would. the two however kept in contact regularly until none at all just two years ago when she’d started dating her now boyfriend maverick. and from what Y/N seen drew had also moved on… to his costar odessa.

“hey, uh drew your phone is ringing. do you want me to get it?” odessa asked drew as he finished washing the champagne flutes, drying his hands hurriedly with the towel next to the sink.

“uh, nah, um i’ll go answer it. it might be my mom. you know her and not being able to sleep and missing her kids. i’m just gonna go in the reading room and take the call. i’ll be back out in twenty. sound good?” he asked warily.

“yeah yeah take your time. tell her i said hi for me” she smiled as his towering figure walked past her frame and into the living room, picking his phone up. his large thumb moved nimbly against his phones screen to answer the call from Y/N as he entered the reading room, plopping on the couch.

“h-honey, why you callin me so late? it’s kinda hard to talk right now” he stuttered out her pet name he hadn’t called her in years. all he received in return were her soft sobs from the other line. those little soft sobs shattered his heart. the last time he’d heard them was because of him. because he had spoke the idea of maybe they should break up. because he didn’t know if he could do the long distance relationship, and Y/N had just agreed. no hesitation because she wanted whatever would make him happy. and if that meant breaking up with her and breaking her heart, then so be it. she wanted what was best for him because she loved him.

“honey, why are you crying? is everything okay?” drew whispered out through the phone to his broken ex in an uneasy tone, as his jaw clenched. he hated the idea of her being sad. he always had.

“w-why are you whispering?” she sighed as more tears streamed down her face.

drew bit his lip, exhaling a huff of hot air he hadn’t known he was holding before speaking, “i gotta whisper because i can’t be too loud.”

“why? i-im sorry. i shouldn’t have called. this was so fucking stupid” Y/N slurred out into her end of the phone, catching drew’s attention.

“oh, well, my girls in the next room” he spoke as he paused to let her speak.

“like i-i said… this was st-stupid of me” she slurred out again before continuing, “you’re moved on. i get it”

“honey, Y/N, it’s not like that. i swear. s-shes not even my girlfriend” he tried to elaborate before she cut him off.

“then why’d you call her your girl?”she challenged.

“baby, you’re drunk. i can tell by the way you’re slurring your words. what’s wrong? why’d you call?” drew tried to deflect the question and ask the more important questions; why she’d called and why she’d been crying.

“answer my questions first please” she hiccuped through her phone and into his ear.

“we haven’t put a label on it. in all seriousness i don’t even know what i want. i don’t even think she knows what she wants. it’s more of a friends with benefits kind of deal” he sighed out as his left index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed once more, contemplating to speak what he’d been thinking for awhile now. “but honey, if i’m being serious, sometimes i wish she was you”

“i wish i was her too” Y/N whimpered out as she took a gulp of the vodka from the bottle she’d been coddling in her arms, sitting on the bathroom floor, hiding from maverick.

“i guess we never really moved on… did we?” he chuckled out, causing Y/N to smile at the sweet sound of his chuckle. it was bliss to her ears. she’d missed that sound so much in the last two years.

“now answer my question honey, what’s wrong? why’re you calling so later? isn’t it like after 1am there back home in charlotte. right?” he asked Y/N in a concerned tone, face scrunching up in worry as well, though she couldn’t see it.

“u-um. drew it doesn’t matter. forget i called you. okay?” Y/N tried to deflect his concerning questions he’d been shooting her way since the call had started.

“Y/N, honey. i’m not hanging up until you tell me what’s got you so bent out of shape that you’re drunk off your ass, drunk calling me at 1 am your time all while sobbing. i just won’t” he huffed out, losing his patience in the girl on the other line.

“joseph” she began to slur, sternly, “i said it doesn’t matter. go back to your girl or whatever the fuck she is to you” she hiccuped yet again.

“fuck, i cant believe i’m about to say this right now, but it’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name. it sounds so sweet” drew smiled to himself as he softly giggled. maybe it was from the champagne he’d had earlier or maybe it was the blissfulness from just hearing Y/N oh so sweet voice saying his name again.

“i love you” Y/N slurred out once more as she started to cry again. “i’ve never stopped” she continued. “i thought i could and would move on but i cant and it hurts me that we aren’t a thing anymore” she continued to weep.

“honey don’t say that. please” he frowned as his heart cracked yet again over his ex girlfriend and her words. more like over her admittance of missing him so much still even after all these years.

“why not, drew? it’s the truth” she sniffled as she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of his old college sweatshirt she’d still kept after all these year even after their breakup. she picked the bottle of vodka back up and took another swig of it.

“those words…. fuck. they’re coming from the lips of an angel baby. and hearing those words, it’s makes me so fucking weak. because as much as i want to be with you… i cant” he sighed as a single tear streamed down his stubbled cheek, not even bothering to wipe it away. he soon continued, “i never want to say goodbye, honey. and it’s so fucking hard to admit that. but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel” he dryly chuckled as the memories of their kisses ran through his brain. it still felt so real. the longing to be near her was still there. and the butterflies. and the desire to make her happy. and the want to make her feel safe and loved.

“drew, you’re the one who just said you guys aren’t even a thing so why would you even say that?” Y/N croaked out as she wiped more of her tears away.

“it’s complicated honey. i feel obligated to be faithful even if her and i aren’t really officially a thing. now please for the love of god, baby, why are you crying? what’s wrong? what happened?” drew exerted his concern as his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“i- uh, drew you cant do anything about it, so it doesn’t matter” she whimpered in a whisper, reaching for the bathroom door knob to make sure it was in fact locked. she squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she heard mavericks yells from their kitchen.

“you know, it’s funny that you called me tonight, Y/N/N, because we had some friends over and the whole time i was just thinking of you and how you’ve been. i haven’t heard from you in two years, hunny” drew whispered, his voice strained from the way his heart clenched in pain at the lack of communication between the two when they had both promised to keep in contact.

“maybe that’s why i dream of you. you know what they say, if you dream of someone that means they’re thinking of you. do you dream of me too?” she spoke shakily, as her jaw began to quiver, biting back yet another sob.

“what about maverick? and yes i’ve dreamt of you too, love. i do often” he confessed as he thought back to his dream he had of her from the other night. the two of them had gone on a picnic in the mountains back in their home state of north carolina, enjoying the scenery and all it had to offer, that was until he was awoken by odessa’s loud alarm blaring throughout his bedroom. drew’s lips parted once more as he spoke again, “and does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?”

“th-that’s why i-i uh called. he… uh he got mad again and s-started to throw some things around the kitchen. h-he said some things which isn’t out of the ordinary with him” her frail voice cracked as she finally admitted to him why she had called him so late in the first place. tears once again started pouring out of her once bright eyes which have now been filled with void. “he drinks… a lot. and when he does… he gets kinda aggressive. he will do things to me and say horrible things as well. i-i called you tonight because i’m drunk and i miss you and i know you’d never do this shit to me and because you listen. so well. you always have” she began to cry again for what felt like the twelfth time that night.

“honey, what are you talking about? has he hit you? do you have a place to go?” drew shot up at the mention of mavericks behavior coming from Y/N. he was on high alert and wanted nothing more than to protect her at that instant.

“i shouldn’t have even called. does odessa even know you’re on the phone with me? i don’t want her to get mad at you. i shouldn’t have even called” Y/N stumbled over her words due to the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d been drinking and maybe even a mix of anxiety.

“no, i don’t think she has a clue. i told her it was probably my mom, but, i knew it was you. i still have your number saved to my phone… with your ringtone too. couldn’t get myself to delete it, even after all these years” he confessed as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. he bit his lip in frustration before speaking sternly this time around, “Y/N, honey, tell me…. has he fucking hit you?”

“y-yes. but he didn’t mean to” she tried to excuse her boyfriends actions, though deep down she knew it was a lie. “and yeah if i have to i can go to my brothers but i don’t need anyone’s fucking help or pity” she blurted a little loud.

“fuck, Y/N” he sighed as fresh tears broke his waterline of his azul eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“it’s okay, drew, i promise. i’m not your problem anymore. i haven’t been for four years now.” she expressed as she drank the last bit of the vodka that was left in the bottle.

“Y/N can you do one thing for m-“ drew was cut off by a soft knock on the reading rooms door, notifying him that someone ,odessa, was on the other side.

“hey, uh you almost done? it’s getting late and i wanna go to bed” she complained to drew as he’d pulled his phone away from his attentive ears.

“u-uh yeah. let me tell my mom goodnight real quick” he stuttered nervously, worried she’d been ease dropping on part of the private conversation he’d been having on the phone with Y/N. and with that odessa nodded her head as she left the room, shutting the door as she went.

“what is it that you want me to promise you?” Y/N sniffled.

“call me if it gets bad again. i’ll fly out there immediately”

“i promise.”

“i never wanna say goodbye” he admitted to her after her promise.

“i don’t either, but you have to” she spoke flatly as she’d just heard Odessa moments before. she opened her mouth, speaking one last line, “i love you drew”

“i-i love you too honey” drew spoke the words he’d been bottling up since the day the two broke up, as fresh tears streamed down his stubbled cheeks. during the moment he spoke those words all he could hear were mavericks yells and bangs onto the bathroom door through his phone, before the call ended all together.

taglist: @slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Any enemies to lovers future AU Sterek fics? At first they annoy each other just as much as they used to, but ofc that changes. Thanks, ur awesome

Oh definitely.

magical protection at the hands of a snarky spark by sychia_rin

(1? I 341 I General)

Stiles stormed his way through the room. The ward he literally just made felt broken.

He eyed the tall man standing on the balcony as he turned to face him, he quirked up an eyebrow looking as shocked as that grumpy face could get him. He must be some newbie guard.

"I just put that ward there shitface. Shoo," Stiles motioned for him to move. The guard stood in place, watching Stiles as he stomped closer.

....

Where an overworked Stiles works for the (royalish?) Hale family doing magical tasks. Vaguely Merlin inspired if you squint.

royal blue fits better with Derek by 08JustLizeth80

(1/1 I 3,129 I Mature)

Where Derek Hale is the prince of England and Stiles is the (extremely) ineloquent and mouthy first son of the United States.

Or

Where Stiles thinks royalty is such an archaic concept it shouldn’t even exist (which has nothing to do with his inadequate and totally not existing crush on the prince).

Knot Your Typical College Romance by stilesanderek (minxxx)

(1/1 I 51,546 I Explicit)

In which Stiles loves studying at Beacon Hills Supernatural University and even though he loves his group of friends, he just wishes that Derek wasn't included in it. Stiles hates the guy fiercely, and he knows it's completely mutual, and what he also knows it's completely mutual is the hate boner they both have going on for each other. What happens after they finally hookup after years of tension, though, isn't something Stiles ever signed up for.

“Shut the fuck up, Stilinski,” Derek hisses, their foreheads less than half a dozen of inches apart.

“Oh yeah, big guy?” Stiles says, stuffing his chest in defiance, licking his mouth once and then finally saying, “Make me.”

all you have is your fire by hansuckss

(7/? I 20,624 I Mature)

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean, if it’s a matter of saving someone’s life. You know,” Derek smirked. “There are lots of things I can do for an hour.”

Everyone knows they can count on Stiles Stilinski, the most composed paramedic at the fire station, and he takes pride in his work. At least until a new firefighter shows up. The newest firefighter-in-training, Derek Hale, is a former football player with a huge hero complex and limitless energy. And until fate brings them together, Stiles can put up with the man's presence. Sparks fly—not in a positive way. The fact that Derek is hotter than the fires he puts out and annoyingly charming doesn't help.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by reillyblack

(9/9 I 26,096 I Mature)

"Stiles, I'll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He's a difficult person to live with, so I won't sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job," Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

Five Times Detective Stilinski and Fire Captain Hale Had Sex In Public, and One Time They Did It In A Bed by bleep0bleep

(7/7 I 32,853 I Explicit)

"Did you say--" Stiles starts.

"What?" Derek growls.

"We're not a couple!" they both retort in unison.

"We're not together," Stiles insists.

Lydia coughs pointedly. "An incident report filed by 87th Precinct Captain Erica Reyes. March twenty-fifth, eight p.m. Came back to the precinct to grab my coat, only to hear Stilinski banging his new boyfriend in the holding cell."

Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 68,366 I Teen)

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

Like it or Not by Halevetica

(56/56 I 80,902 I Not Rated)

Stiles works as the editorial assistant at Vogue. He loves everything about his job except for his boss, Derek Hale. Derek Hale is the worst and Stiles hates him. But when Derek drags him to the yearly awards dinner within the company, he is forced to play boyfriend for the night to make Derek's ex jealous. Things couldn't get much worse...or so Stiles thought.

(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

(9/9 I 96,199 I Mature)

First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.

Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla)

(17/17 I 149,179 I Explicit)

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

The Final Pack by Kedreeva

(33/33 I 428,148 I Mature)

Humankind is fighting its way back from near extinction against the supernatural beings that fed upon the remaining humans in the aftermath of the 2012 apocalypse. On the front lines, Stiles' best friend gets bitten by a werewolf and Stiles must strike a bargain with wolves in order to save him.

[zombyjuice]

YOU USED TO LIVE A BLONDED LIFE₊˚⊹ ᰔ(๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)>c[_]

in which it’s almost valentines and all wonbin can think about is the girl on his bus rides home.

wonbin x fem!reader

cussing, awkward, kinda bad ngl, reader is poc ermmm enjoy :3

“I’m lonely, I need a man before Valentine or I’ll go fucking insane” you speak coming up behind your friend Luna who practically jumped out of her seat phone flying in the air ���Goodness! Someone needs to go put a bell on you” you look down at her with a menacing stare getting out of your 🕴️pose and going to the other side to grab your chair, stepping over her phone.

“I feel like you’ve already gone insane,” she picks up her phone thanking God it’s not broken “Cute hair by the way” she points out your now dark brown hair up put in a ponytail and a white headband with a fluffy blue star clip attached to it, you smile softly touching your hair “hopefully that cute boy on the bus thinks the same, he’s always staring at me I think he wants at me” you let out a giggle and jump up and down on your chair “oh my GOSH he’s so fine how~”

“shut up I’m sure he’s going to like it your pretty and look straight out of one of those old quirky Japanese fashion magazines, also you don’t have the worst personality” she states finishing her coffee “Oh? whatever fuck you let’s go” you kick her under the table and watch her face curl up in pain laughing out loud.

You guys shuffle out of the cafe with grumpy faces seeing all Valentine’s decorations and giddy men and women with gifts for the significant others, “disgusting” you sneer “Be happy” you glare at her “Shut the fuck up and be mad with me fuck valentines!” you slightly shout her eyes darting around not understanding how you have no shame(in Korea), you were a strange complex person but she loved you for it, deciding to ignore the glares.

Not even on the bus yet eyes immediately start darting trying to find the boy excited dressed just for him even though in the back of your mind you knew you were never going to go up to him ever, especially remembering your first interaction.

To make a long story short he was at the bus station at 1 am doing God knows what (waiting for the bus) and since there was barely anyone there you and Luna thought it was the best time to do a silly little TikTok you sprouting with energy cause Luna just gave you tons of it.

The song was slowed down so there you were dancing your heart out (slowly) to Ma Boy by sistar19 to get the perfect video and everything would’ve been fine if you didn’t heard the stifled laugh that the boy was holding.

Your face contoured with fear and Luna's deadpan while tapping your shoulder to run. And ever since then you’d see the boy every day, which would be concerning any other man but this was a breathtaking man who looked at you like he wanted to go down on you any moment.

Luna says it’s not that bad because the video ended up being great the sped up video making people laugh and you guys got viral the next day but you think that was hands down the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“I think you guys would look good together” your friend states while you guys eagerly waiting for the bus “What do you mean? How?!” you get giddy slapping her arm “idk it give cute black cat bf and weird orange cat gf” “okay can you hop off always trying to insult me” “that’s what I do best” “oh you're a fucker” “ow! Stop pinching me gay fuck” “You’re g-”

“the doors open” a quiet voice that belonged to no other than your future(not really) pretty black cat boyfriend >:3

you both barely look back and beeline into the bus.

“haha,” you awkwardly laugh a little too late at the boy who looked at you a little silly, both of your eyebrows raised strangely at each other “Oh my gosh” Luna muttered.

You turned around all of a sudden you would like to leave right about now.

The bus ride was quite awkward you and your friend standing and chatting sometimes losing yourselves in the convos and laughing a bit too loud immediately going to check if he looked at you a certain way.

You guys shared cute glances here and there you could feel the way he looked at your outfit or the way he scanned your side profile also not failing to catch the soft grin plastered on his face.

When the time came around for you to get off your bus stop you frowned, yeah you guys never talked before and you weren’t planning on it, but his presence was enough you could gladly sit awkwardly next to him as he looked at you with those cute boba eyes, gladly giving him the same look back.

You gave him one last look and a soft tight lip smile before walking away with your friend off the bus, but what you didn’t catch was that he followed you guys off.

“excuse me- excuse me”

You guys turn stiff and you snap back to see him slightly smile and wave “Can I um speak to you, please, not to be weird or anything”

You look at Luna with a smile a little too bright and she nods smiling back and glaring at Wonbin before walking off.

you look back at the boy's direction and you walk up to meet each other properly…

“You changed your hair,” he states blankly your eyes go a bit wide, and chuckle a bit “Yeah I was tired of the blonde, but I’m nervous this might be too plain though it does look a lot better I might add some color or maybe like a couple of blo- sorry I blabbering” he giggles a little too hard eyes turning into crescents and cheeks burning red “sorry that was a weird statement, not your fault, haha but um I’m Wonbin…” he scammed your features and your reactions finding them all so cute how expressive and real you are it’s like he could see you take note of his name in your head.

“Wonbin.. pretty I like it! I’m y/n” his face burned more and he couldn’t help but let out a nervously high giggle “Also pretty I think you're pretty too and I wanted to introduce myself properly and take you on a date or two before you know, Valentine's” gulp.

[angelpassing-by]

TODAY WON'T BE THE END.

Pairing: Wriothesley x reader Genre: angst, comfort. Your boyfriend Wriothesley finds you during a depressive episode, after self harming, and comforts you. Modern AU. Tw: self harm, suicide talk, not graphic mention of injuries and blades, self harm scars. A/N: English is not my first language, this is my first ever time triying to write fanfiction. Basicaly, I've been struggling for some time now and craving some sh comfort comfort, which is quite difficult to come across. So I decided to write my own with my current comfort character.

It is quite late when Wriothesley sets a foot in your shared apartment. The soft tick-tack of the kitchen clock being the only thing to greet him. Normally you would greet him every night, lazily hugging him in your pajamas. Today, however, there's no sign of your presence in the home. Hopping to find you in the bedroom he makes his way through the corridor, trying his best not to wake you up with his heavy steps.

To his surprise, the bed is untouched and some quiet sniffles can be heard coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Dear?" his knocks on the door make you panic even more, fumbling with the first aid kit and the supplies scattered around it in the tile floor.

"Are you okay?" he heard no response but some metallic clatter on the other side as you managed to fit your blades back into their hidden box.

He had seen your scars, kissed them, touched them. To his eyes they were just another part of you, whom he lovingly adored, not taking away any of your beauty despite your self-deprecating talk about them. But that also meant he was aware of what those scars implied, he had even seen some of them heal, help you bandage them.

"I'm coming in." Without waiting for your response he gently pushes the door open.

Wriothesley's heart breaks when he seen your sobbing form on the floor, surrounded by bloodied papers and crimson stains. He kneels beside you, taking your face into his hands.

"What happened love?" but you can only cry harder and mumble gibberishly under your breath.

Wrio then takes your arm, handling it with much more care than you've ever had for your own body. He inspects the fresh cuts as you look at him through soaked lashes. The sanitary alcohol stings badly but you barely notice it and the bandages he wraps around your forearm feel soft and warm, a parody of a hug somehow.

After being appropriately patched up, Wrio opens his arms, about to hug you.

"No,No!" you hastily exclaim with a broken voice. "You'll get you clothes dirty." He chuckles and wraps you in his strong arms, trapping you in his warm body - safety.

"Do you what to tell me what happened?" he asks cautiously, after braking your embrace, whipping you tears away with his thumbs.

"I don't think-- I- can" you stumble with your words "-- you know - this- do this."

"This?"

"Life." you whisper.

"Oh" the implications of your words take some time to register, but when they do, he engulfs you in his arms again, perhaps hopping that you don't notice the stray tear that rolls down his cheek.

Time goes by incredibly slow until he grabs your face again and locks his eyes with yours. "I know you can, I know you will do this" Wrio's words are barely loud enough to be heard.

"I'm scared -- I - don't know what to do, I know nothing, I feel so lost". The tears, gone and dry in your face, return, and you hate yourself for letting them pour again.

"I know, love. It's so difficult to know what the future holds. I don't think anybody out there knows exactly how to do life. But hear me out, you are not alone in this, you've got me, you've got your friends, your family. You don't have to figure life alone. Fuck, you don't even need to figure it out at all." His expression softens when you giggle at his last words. "love, you don't have to know how to do life, and if you feel uncertain again, know for a fact that I've got you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what" he responds placing a kiss on your forehead.

[justmeinadaze]

Hi! I have this really REALLY angsty request that if you don’t want to do it okay, but since you’ve posted things with a similar theme I thought maybe you could write it.

So it’s similar to the pop star!reader x bodyguard!steddie, but this is just regular them Ig? So reader overdoses with some of Eddie’s stuff, and when the boys arrive, Eddie kinda gets flashbacks from when his mom overdosed. I’m just really a craver for angst, hurt, comfort fics

Thank you so much! I love your stuff!!🤍🤍

Steddie Asks/ Ko-Fi <3

Warning: Dark themes of drugs and overdosing, all three discuss an incident where the reader overdoses

The table is silent as you and your boyfriends pick at the food they had purchased after bringing you home from the hospital. Having grown accustomed to the balanced meal they provided, you were struggling to fully get through the heavy pasta in front of you. 

You hated this; the weighted energy that hung in the air. 

You would give anything to go back to how things used to be when you, Steve, and Eddie could just laugh and have fun but a line had been forever crossed. Trust broken in that one moment when you snuck into the metalhead’s things and found drugs that weren’t meant for you especially after you promised things were going to be different. 

“I know! I’m sorry! I don’t mean to go overboard. Everything is just so overwhelming and it helps me…breathe. I promise, I’ll slow down. I’ll get clean, I swear.”

You meant it at the time and every time after when you talked yourself out of buying a new supply. But when you were fired from your job for seemingly no reason, you needed to numb your brain. 

“Just one more.”, you had told yourself.

One more turned into another hit and then another…and another…until a couple of days later you woke up in an emergency room with your boyfriends clinging to your hands. 

“Do you want me to make you something?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve barely touched your food. If you don’t want it I can make you something else.”, Steve explains as his eyes scan you over. 

“Oh, um, no. I’m ok. I’m just not very hungry, I guess.” He nodded without saying another and you felt like you were going to explode. “How long are we going to do this?”

“Do what, honey?”

“Avoid the topic of what happened.”

“We don’t need to talk about that now.”, Eddie mumbled without even looking your way.

“I’d like to. I’d prefer it over this.” Neither man said anything as they continued to stare in front of them at their food. “Come on, guys. Yell, scream, throw things; I don’t fucking care just…talk to me.”

“Not right now.”, the metalhead repeated in a firmer tone. 

“When then, Ed?”

“Whenever Eddie chooses it seems.”, the other boy sassed throwing you off guard slightly. You half expected any hostility to be directed towards you but the way Steve said that…he was angry at his friend as well.

“Well go on. Out with it, Harrington. You’ve been fucking passive aggressive since we got to the hospital. Just fucking get it out, man.”

“Oh, it’s ok now? Now you’ll fucking listen to me. You didn’t listen to me when I asked you not to keep any drugs in this fucking apartment!”

“I didn’t expect her to dig through my things!”

“She’s an addict, you fucking idiot!”

“HEY!”, you shouted as Eddie rose from his chair, knocking it down behind him. “I said talk, not be mean. This isn’t his fault.”

“No, you’re right. It’s both your faults. I asked him not to bring drugs here because you were trying to get better, Y/N, but you were still struggling. I saw it every day you came home! You were always one step away from fucking breaking but you never said anything! Why!? Why didn’t you talk to us or hell even a doctor?! I don’t fucking care!”

“I didn’t know how…”

“Oh, fucking bullshit!”

“Because I didn’t want to burden you two! That’s all I fucking am! You both have enough going on than to deal with me.”

“So, this was better? Us finding you on the fucking bedroom floor?!” At Steve’s words, Eddie crossed his arms as he hugged himself tightly; the memory of that day hitting them both. “Did you think when we found you barely breathing, we thought ‘Oh thank God. One less problem.’? Or when we watched EMS poke and prod your pale, sweaty skin that we were thankful you did this instead of coming to us? That we would be proud that you feel better numbing yourself with that shit than being open with the men you supposedly love?!”

In anger, he flipped the dining room table making you jump and stand as everything crashed to the ground. The former jock had been holding this in for weeks and now that the flood gates had been opened, he couldn’t stop them. 

“I thought you were gonna die. You didn’t see what we saw, Y/N. All the color was gone from your face and you were so sticky with sweat…I’ll never forget that smell… You didn’t move or answer us. When EMS arrived, they were shouting a lot but the thing that stood out was ‘She’s not breathing.’”

Eddie’s own breathing stuttered and when you glanced his way you realized he was trying to control the tears that had begun to fall. 

“They asked what you took but when we told them we didn’t know but we know your history and they suggested what it could have been, I knew from his face it was something Munson brought in. I almost fucking killed him, Y/N.”

“Steve—”

“No. I’m not exaggerating or anything like that. It took all of my energy to not beat the shit out of him right then and there.”

“You think I don’t do that already?”, the metalhead growled. “You think I don’t fucking beat myself for what happened?! I stopped dealing the moment we found out about her vices. I gave Rick back everything I had because I knew that temptation would be hard for her. He needed someone to hold onto his stuff for a couple of days because Rick expected his PO to make a surprise visit. Steve, I swear to God, I didn’t think she would… I trusted her…”

After drying his eyes, Eddie squared his shoulders towards you both. 

“Maybe that was naive but she was getting better. That’s our problem, Harrington. I trust her too much and you don’t trust her at all!”

“I don’t and this is exactly the reason why!”

“I understand.” Your tiny voice cuts through their fury giving them pause. “When I get low like I did and the craving hits… it’s like being in a black hole I can’t crawl out of. I didn’t think about how my choice would affect either of you but especially Eddie. All I could think about was how I just needed the pain to stop. I am so fucking sorry. I-I-I understand if you want to take a break or some time away from me while I deal with this. I just—”

Steve cuts you off by stepping over the contents on the floor and yanking you to his chest. 

“You’re doing it again, honey. You don’t have to face this alone. We’re here to help you every step of the way.”

“Just because we’re upset with you doesn’t mean we stopped loving you.”, Eddie added before wrapping his arm around you both. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am.”

“I forgive you. It’s going to take some time but we can get this and become better together.”

“I love you both so much and I’m so sorry for scaring you. Even if it takes my whole life I’ll make it up to you.”, you pledge as your voice is slightly muffled by the chest in front of you.

“Baby, all we want is for you to be happy. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.” Nodding, you push your face into the metalhead’s warm embrace as Steve released the two of you to pick up the table and the mess he had made. “Y/N, you remind me a lot of my mother. You are beautiful, funny, and sweet almost to a fault but when we found you… you were unresponsive like her… My dad abandoned her long before she passed but I promise, sweetheart, we’ll be right here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone.”

After kissing your forehead, Eddie knelt down to help his friend and both boys exchange a small smile before you follow his decent to help to. 

“Oh, Y/N, we got this—”

“Together, Steve. Any kind of chaos or situation life throws our way we handle it together.”

[pt2change]

can we get even closer? — jeon jungkook

[gif source]

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: friends with benefits, mentions of smoking weed, y/n is grumpy, college!au (in my mind), jk comforting y/n, they have feelings for each other but haven’t confessed :0, insecurities, fluff

word count: 1,549

↣ bts masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

you’re both on your backs, laying side by side, with barely any space in between you both

you’re in your small one bedroom apartment tonight, in a relatively small sized bed, and well here you are…

you’re both crammed next to each other and although you’ll both never admit it, the both of you enjoy being like this

the bed creaked loudly when jungkook shifted slightly closer to you

it was sometime in the middle of the day, and you were both still breathing heavily from the second time you had sex

the room was getting hot and the sunshine kept creeping in, even through the curtains

part of it was due to the fact that you had your blinds open before he arrived to your apartment

you thought about getting up, but ultimately decided against it

you felt so calm and relaxed, and with everything going on in your life, you almost forgot what that felt like

the breathing beside you had slowed down, and when you turn your head to the side, you find jungkook asleep

you lay there for a while, hoping to fall asleep but it fails

so…..

you blindly decided to reach over towards the rolled joint that jungkook had placed on your nightstand

however, you accidentally end up smacking the alarm clock that you have onto the floor

you can’t help but curse quietly

“what are you doing?” you hear jungkook’s voice

you clear your throat lightly

“waking you up obviously” you mumbled back to him

you grab the joint successfully, and light the end of it, inhaling it and passing it over to a half-asleep jungkook as you exhaled

“what time is it?” he turns to face you after blowing the smoke out of his mouth, passing it back to you

“i have no idea” you glanced down at your clock on the floor, seeing a few pieces scattered on the floor “i’m pretty sure i just broke my fucking clock.”

the rooms remains quiet as you and jungkook share the joint a few more times

“y/n” jungkook begins, “there are other ways you could’ve woken me up rather than breaking your clock”

you rolled your eyes and turn to face him

he continues, “you should have tried whispering something sweet in my ear….” he pauses, “like a compliment, and i probably would’ve been so shocked that i would’ve fell to the floor instead of your clock”

he teases you and smiles

you stare at him for what seems like forever before you turn away or you’d catch yourself smiling back at him

it happened more frequently where you found yourself smiling like an idiot at jungkook or where you both stared at each other longer than necessary

you had brought up the idea of being friends with benefits to jungkook months after you had broken up with your then boyfriend

to which of course, jungkook agreed

you wanted to avoid the aspects of a romantic relationships and yet…..

here you are….

jungkook was doing all these things to you and making you feel so many things

it kinda pissed you off the way he slowly made you fall for him

but you enjoyed the way you felt with him, it was familiar, like home

you smacked your lips together, “why would i even want to wake you up? it was quiet and peaceful up until now”

you turn to look over at him again, “plus you don’t annoy me half as much when you’re asleep”

and when jungkook pokes you on the side of your rib, you’re grinning and laughing

jungkook yawns and stretches his arms out and they accidentally brush against your own

“you would explode into pieces if you actually said something nice to someone”

you turn to look at him with a shocked face before he lets out a chuckle

“let’s see…” you begin, taking time to examine his face

“should i say something like oh my god jungkook, you have the most beautiful eyes i have ever seen?”

you nod your head slightly before looking away from him

“yeah but you have to actually mean it. otherwise it doesn’t work-”

you scoffed, “did it sound like i was joking?”

“wait… you actually meant that?” jungkook propped himself up to look at you

you shrug your shoulders

then you feel him poking you…. multiple times

“who are you and what have you done with the real y/n?” he says in between in each poke

“oh shut up!” you playfully smack him in the arm

and jungkook lays next to you again and smacks his lips together, “ah, there you are”

the two of you pass the remaining joint between each other until you decide to put it out

then you both fall into a comfortable silence, and you close your eyes to help you feel more relaxed

it’s not long until jungkook turned his head to face you, and now it’s his turn to study your face

and he thinks back to when you first decided to sleep with each other,

he thinks back to when you expressed to him the idea of having sex without kissing, claiming that it was “too intimate” and how that wasn’t what you were looking for

and well jungkook respected you so he doesn’t

but all he can focus on is your kissable lips

and he really wanted to kiss you

and if you were being completely honest, you have wanted to kiss jungkook for a while now

even in this moment, as you lay with your eyes closed and you can feel his eyes on you

you still want to kiss him

but kissing meant intimacy and closeness, and that’s what scared you

if you kissed jungkook the way you wanted to, then you couldn’t avoid how you felt for him

not too long goes by before you open your eyes and look over at jungkook, “what?”

jungkook clears his throat, “nothing. i’m just looking at you”

he keeps his mouth open, as if he’s debating on continuing his sentence, “i think i like you”

“and why would you do that?” you look back at him

to be quiet honest, you weren’t sure why jungkook stuck around with you

you weren’t dumb, you knew jungkook could find someone better to spend his days with

but he spends them with you, and yeah, sex is always amazing but you do more than that

you enjoy each others company, even if it’s doing the most random thing, like ordering in or watching movies with awful cgi

“you really don’t know?” jungkook asks you and he props himself on his elbows again and faces you

“well… let’s see, first of all, you ha-”

jungkook widens his eye when we feels your index finger pressed against his lips

you shake your head, “nope”

jungkook moves his head away from your finger, and shakes his head, “yeah i should’ve seen that coming”

“coming? oh you’ve seen that many times”

when you look at jungkook, he has a deadpanned face on his look and you can’t help but laugh

in the midst of your laughing outburst, jungkook speaks up

“no y/n, i was gonna say you have a big heart-“

his eyes are staring right at yours and you swear you can feel your heart begin to beat even faster than normal

“- and i know you put up this mean and grumpy front with other people but you can be really sweet when you want to and…even though you’ll never admit it, i know you care. you care about people. you care about me.”

he pauses, and you can tell he’s thinking of the right words to say

“you’re the only person that thinks the worst of yourself, y/n. and i just wish i could let you see yourself the way that i see you.”

………..

oh……..

you were truly at a loss for words.

his words affected you more than you would have wanted to admit

for a second, you had thought it was because he was high from the weed you both smoked but

you felt the sincerity in his voice

like he truly meant it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know how to respond back to him

jungkook seemed to have sense how you felt so he said nothing as well and laid back down next to you

the quietness that filled the room was what you need to gather your thoughts and process what you were gonna do next

jungkook began to wonder if he had did something wrong

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have said anything, i can leave”

you can feel his side of the bed moving, but you sit up and place your hand on his chest, keeping him from moving

“don’t…. don’t go.” you whisper

“okay” he mumbled, and he placed his hand on yours

and you both stare at each other for what seems like eternity

before jungkook looks like he’s about to speak up again, you lift your leg over his body and straddle him

and you lean down to kiss him

he places one hand on your waist and the other one cups your faces as you fall into a deep and tender kiss

you could feel the kiss through your entire body

you pulled away first and looked at jungkook

and you looked at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat

you went to go lay back down next to jungkook, your fingers intertwining with his

jungkook speaks up, “we have to stop smoking so much weed.”

and you chuckle, “no we shouldn’t”

[honey-crypt]

a/n: wrote this during whiteboard night with the elliott squad @fuerrziah @sonicsbigmassivepersonality @pxtofawn @razberry-cookie cuz i can’t do digital art (yet) soooo… enjoy!

word count: 1k

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), public sex, messy sex, drunk sex, mentions of cheating, unhealthy coping mechanisms (farmer uses drinking to cope with their breakup), elliott and the farmer ruin gus’s storage room, “oh! that escalated quickly!”

summary: you got your heart broken by your dumb ex-boyfriend and need relief. good thing elliott’s here to help you out!

★ frunk duck [drunk fuck] - elliott x farmer ★

You couldn't help it, though; you had just been dumped by your boyfriend Alex and you had to drink your sorrows away. Of course, the only place to do so in a small, buttfuck town like Pelican Town (other than enjoying a beer at home) was going to the Stardrop Saloon. Just a few drinks, you said, just a few drinks was all you needed to get that asshole off your mind.

Then you saw him, Elliott, sitting alone at the bar and nursing a pint in his hand. You approached the writer and took the bar stool next to him, “Hey,” you gave him a short greeting before waving Gus down and ordering your own beer. The redhead eyed you and offered a smile, “Hello. What brings you here at such a late hour, my friend?”

“Alex,” you grumbled. Gus set the beer in front of you and in a flash, you downed it and let out a low burp. Elliott raised his eyebrows at the scene, “Oh, dear. What did he do this time?”

“Fucked a random chick from ZuZu City when we were supposed to go out on our date,” you let out a stale laugh. You then beckoned Gus down and requested him to pour some shots. Despite the concerned look in his eyes, the bartender honored your request and placed five or so shot glasses down on the table, “Pick your poison.”

“Vodka,” you answered. Gus grabbed a bottle of chilled vodka from the rack and poured it into each shot glass, “Enjoy, let me know if you need anything, okay?” The saloon owner left to attend to other patrons. It was a surprisingly slow night for the saloon, only seven patrons beside you and Elliott inside.

“Wanna join me?” you held out a shot of vodka to Elliott. He stared at the shot and gently set his beer down on the wooden table, “I would be happy to. What shall we toast to?”

You raised your shot, “To not letting assholes walk all over us.”

Elliott raised his shot after you, “Cheers to that,” you clinked the other’s glass with your own and took the shot in one swift motion, the burn of the vodka and its chilly temperature coating your throat. Soon, one shot turned into two, then three, then so on until you could barely remember why you were drinking in the first place. You swung your bodyweight to the side and faced Elliott, his face red and eyes hazy from the alcohol.

“Ellieeeeee,” you leaned into the writer and muttered in his ear, “I have an idea…”

“Y- Yeah?” he hiccuped. You nodded, more so headbutting the poor fella, and giggled, “You- You should fuck me,” the redhead’s eyes widened at the proposition but smiled nonetheless, “Okay!” Elliott grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the bar stool, walking you towards the backroom of the saloon.

Now, here you were, getting your guts stirred up like fresh spaghetti by Elliott’s thick, juicy cock. It was a prettier cock than Alex’s, longer and thicker, utterly delicious to suck on. The way he mewled and stifled back moans when you blew his dick was simply a sight to behold. He tasted sweet, from his lips to his weeping cock.

He then lubed your hole up with spit and a leftover lube packet he had in his coat. You didn’t ask where or why he had a travel size packet of lube in his coat, you were too busy getting yourself fucked dumb by a handsome, freckled man with an unnatural toned body for his lifestyle.

It was a treat to see such a gentleman give into his primal desires, his need to fuck and to breed any pretty holes he bore witness to. His cock was like a spear, stabbing you with a pleasurable pain. Your eyes lit up when Elliott made contact with your sweet spot, “There! There, right there!” you moaned to him. Like the obedient puppy he was, Elliott followed your direction and continued to abuse that one spot of yours, his cock pistoning in and out of your hole over and over and over and-

You clenched down on Elliott’s dick and held back a cry, as you climaxed. Elliott held onto you and covered your mouth while you rode out your orgasm, sober enough to know that any loud noise from the backroom would arouse suspicion.

You went limp in Elliott’s arm, too dumb to move or make a sound. Elliott took the chance to resume his motions, using you as a human fleshlight to chase his own climax. He quickly followed in suit, biting down on your shoulder to muffle his whimpering moans while he shot ropes of cum deep inside you.

Elliott and you remained still for a few minutes until the redhead’s cock went soft and he was able to pull himself out of you. Some cum spilled from your hole and joined the collection of fluids on the floor. Elliott hastily wiped the liquids away with his handkerchief and pocketed it back into his coat. He snapped his fingers in your face, trying to see if you were mentally there enough to get up and get dressed, but he only got soft babbles in return.

“Elliott, (Y/N)?” the two of you turned to face the owner of the voice. Gus stood in the doorway with his arms crossed in annoyance and disappointment, “Please tell me you got… no fluids on my produce,” the bartender entered the backroom and made a beeline for some of the boxes. Once Gus confirmed that the produce was fine, he stated, “You two are banned from the saloon for the next month.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” answered Elliott. He redressed you and threw your drunk, fucked dumb ass onto his back, “Bye, Gus.”

“Bye, Elliott. Bye, (Y/N),” the bartender bid you both farewell, as Elliott carried you out of the Stardrop Saloon. Guess you have to drink at home for the next month!

[adoristsposts]

hi i love your writing! could you possibly do justin herbert and reader breaking up but then they rekindle and it’s a happy ending?

author's note; anons treating me so well u guys have better ideas than i do icl summary; alcohol and not being over your ex doesn't exactly mix well- unless, of course, your ex seems just as hung up on you. word count; 1K warnings; drinking, swearing characters; Reader x Justin Herbert

You let a loud sigh escape your lips the second your apartment door shut behind you. You placed a palm on the door, using it for support as you slipped off your heels and let your bare feet sink into the carpeted floor. "Jesus," you muttered to yourself. Without missing a beat, you headed to your fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine. You set your purse down on the kitchen island and, wine bottle in hand, padded over to the couch. You turned it on and, of course, your ex-boyfriend's face filled the screen. "It was just a flesh wound." He told the press before you could switch the channels. Your hand paused, hovering over the Netflix icon you had been meaning to press. A flesh wound? You couldn't stop yourself from pulling your phone out and googling it. Three years later you were unable to resist the need to know he was okay. His dismissal of it on television seemed reasonable, you decided as you scrolled through a few articles. But then a few articles became a highlight reel. And then media posts. And then his Instagram. He still followed you from back when the two of you had dated. You remembered his management encouraging him to make the account, and how, despite the fact he didn't run it, he had made sure you were one of the few hundred he followed back.

The split had been amicable. Your post-college heart had been absolutely broken, but Justin was moving to LA and you couldn't handle the distance. The two of you tried keeping in contact for a few months, but the second he was spotted with another woman you shut down. By the time you had sorted out your feelings for him, it felt too embarrassing to reach out. Now, ironically, you were in LA. And you wished you had held on to contact. Because god damn was dating in LA boring. The one you had just returned from had entailed a Chiefs fan mansplaining football to you and complaining about Taylor Swift- all because you had peeked past his shoulder to get a look at the Niners' score. You forced yourself to close your phone. You stood up and walked over to the closest mirror, checking yourself out. You had done your hair and makeup and picked a cute outfit- even worn heels!- just for the guy to be a tool. You smoothed out your shirt. Fuck it, you told yourself. You texted your best friend. Wanna go out? Absolutely, bitch. She replied.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache. How you had gotten home, or what exactly had happened the night before, you had no idea. You groaned loudly and leaned over to grab your phone off the nightstand. The notifications that greeted you were so mortifying you were sure you were going to puke. Seven missed calls from Justin, three voicemails, and five text messages. There was no chance in hell you were looking at any of those. You took an everything shower, blew out your hair, painted your nails, and made yourself food. Who knew that your ex-boyfriend could be so helpful when it came to working through a hangover? Finally, hours later, you had to check. The time without your phone- although you hated to admit it- was driving you crazy. You could only sit through so much without wanting to check it. And you were sure your best friend had to be worried you had choked on your own vomit at this point.

You responded to her texts first, with a simple 'I think I drunk called Justin.' You ignored her frantic texts and clicked on his first voicemail. "Hey." His voice sent shivers down your spine. There was something so homely about the way he sounded. Like hearing an old favorite song. "I think you drunk called me. My hand's fine, thanks for asking. Just a sprain, it'll be fine by the end of our by week. " Ever polite. When Justin first stepped into the spotlight, so many people questioned his personality and whether he would be fit to lead a team as their quarterback. He had never cared. He always dismissed it with a quiet wave. He was how he was, and you had loved him for it. The voicemail cut out there, and you played the next one. "Sorry," He began, because what else would he start out with? "I can't stop listening to what you sent me. I know you're drunk, but you said you haven't gotten over it- just in case you don't remember in the morning- and I haven't either. Just thought you should know." A click. You cringed. You truthfully didn't remember a moment of it. You understood now how the prohibition had happened. The last one. "Ok, I swear this is it." He laughed. The sound was like stepping under a warm ray of sun on a cold day. "I miss you. Text me when you wake up- I'm sorry for blowing up your phone. You said you were in LA? We should reconnect."

You put your phone face down and ran a hand over your face. Reconnect. With your ex-boyfriend. That you still weren't over. You texted your best friend. She responded with a bunch of messages that all had the same point; 'absolutely, you dumbass, you are still so in love with him and i'm sick of hearing about it.'

You swiped out of her messages and opened Justin's, which were full of concerned texts and him asking for you to text him when you got home to ensure you were safe. You bit your lip to try and control your smile. I'm free anytime this week. Coffee?