#i took a pill to shut it up i should be fine now

[peachycocaine]

namgyu smut..? perchance..?

ABSOLUTELY!! omg i should start writing for other characters too like where is the diversity :/ nam gyus so fine but his character rlly pissed me off but i hope you like the fic!!

Whine n' dine

Pairings: namgyu x fem!reader

Tw: oral (f receiving), language. 18+ minors dni.

During the second game; six legged pentathlon, you had formed alliances with thanos and his group. Solely because there were no other people that took you in, all of them told you off because you were a woman. After the game you started hanging around them more and stuck with them. They were a bunch of pussies who needed to pop pills just to overcome the fear. You knew they'd carry you throughout all the games and thats why you relied on them. Though you hated how they treated the people around them you had to stick with them, for your own safety. Thanos would just be in his own world whereas nam gyu would be occupied being a lap dog for thanos and manipulating min su into voting O. You noticed nam gyus behaviour towards you though, he was always so mean to you but he still kept you close at all times. Everytime you'd go wandering off, he'd follow you around, brushing it off with a "just making sure you don't get lose around here dumbass."

He claimed the bed right next to yours as his, always sleeping on his side facing you. You didn't think much of it, thinking he was just keeping an eye on each move of yours so he's sure you dont betray them. At times you'd hear thanos taunting nam gyu by your name and nam gyu always getting flustered and elbowing thanos when he notices you heard him. He's tried to feed you one of those weird pills they take but you'd always refuse and so would thanos. Thanos always said "dude i don't got enough for the 3 of us!" of course he wasn't willing to share his coping mechanism. You found yourself hanging out around min su more than any other person from the group cause he was the sanest one there. You'd notice nam gyu shooting glares to min su everytime you were talking to him. And of course, min su would cower under his presence. When you continued clinging to min su, you noticed nam gyu acting meaner to min su, always tormenting him whenever he was given the chance to. Everytime you stuck up for him, he'd glare at you without saying a word, which was weird because when you first met, he cussed you out every hour of the day.

After the third game, you decided you were going to vote X. The money had gone up and it was enough to pay off your debts. Yes, it was selfish of you as other people still needed more to pay off theirs, but they were also somewhat selfish for willing to risk the lives of other people who still had so much to live for. You saw thanos and nam gyu eagerly trying to convince min su into voting O. You noticed how pushy nam gyu was being but you didn't bother interfering. You walked up to the voting box, and pressed the button X. Ripping off your bloody O patch and replacing it with the X. The X team cheered as it was now coming to a tie. You saw nam gyu from the O crowd staring you down, you just looked the other way.

It was meal time and you sat down on your bunk on the X side, finishing up your meal as nam gyu came stomped towards you. He hovered over you with a disdained look on his face "you're one selfish bitch you know that? Running away now that you have enough money to pay off your debt." He said through gritted teeth. You just narrowed your eyes at him "and? People like you are the reason so many people are dying in here" you scoffed. "So what? Theyre roaches, why pussy out now? Even if they do get out, some of them would still be in debt. It doesn't change a thing." His words dripped with fury, his temper tipping to the brink. You glared at him before getting up "shut the fuck up and go sit down somewhere" you mumbled under your breath before heading to the bathroom.

Lights out was in 30 seconds, you started setting your bed, dusting off the pillows and blankets. After the lights went off, you got into bed and pulled the blanket over you. You tossed and turned, trying to sleep as horrific memories flooded your head, the way people screamed and ran and begged for their lifes before getting put out their misery haunted you. The faces, the bodies, the blood on the ground knowing you could end up as one of them if the O team wins to vote tomorrow. Your eyes got heavier as your thoughts started getting blurry, you were drifting off to sleep before you felt someone standing behind you. Your body tensed as you tried to gather the courage to turn around, and when you finally did you saw nam gyu standing infront of you. You sat up and looked around, you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared to death right now. The red light illuminated his face, giving you a clear vision of his bitter expression. "What the fuck do you want?" You whsipered loud enough for him to hear. "I want to make you change your mind, princess." He said as he kneeled down to your level.

Your body reacted weirdly to the nickname, your panties getting uncomfortably sticky to your core. "W-what?! What're you doin-" you were cut off as he covered your mouth with his. Devouring your mouth, the kiss was fueled with hunger. His tongue invaded your mouth and for some reason, you couldn't help but kiss back. He pulled away chuckling before crawling onto your bed. He pushed you against the pillow as he began kissing you again, his body pressed against yours. You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in closer if it was even possible. He pulled away, his eyes filled with lust as he began kissing down your neck. Biting and nipping at the soft skin, leaving evident marks. He sunk his teeth into the tender skin of your neck, making you wince. You tugged at his long black hair, tilting your head in an angle that gave him better access to your neck. You hated yourself for craving more.

He pulled away, licking his lips "spread." He said in a demanding tone. Your spread your legs wide as he lowered himself, his mouth leveled to your crotch. He smirked as he pulled down your pants, watching you suck air in through your teeth as the cold air hit your naked pussy. He wasted no time diving in, making out with your needy wet cunt hungrily. His tongue flicked at your sensitive clit, gaining a whimper from you. You tried supressing the continuous moans that were pulled out of you by slapping a hand over your mouth. He ran his tongue up and down your slit before shoving his tongue into your folds, his nose nudging your clit. You grabbed a fistful of his hair, your muffled moans filling the air as he ate you out like a man starved since the dinosaurs. He grabbed your thighs as they were closing in on him, trapping his head between your legs. He kept licking and sucking at your clit eating you out like a full course meal until you could feel yourself getting closer. " 'm gonna cum!" You almost screamed and you felt him grin against your pussy. He started eating you out faster and harder, eager to make you cum. After a few flicks, you came undone on his tongue. Your body twitched and shook as you panted. He lapped at all your juices before getting up and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he admired your shaking form.

"You know how to thank me doll, vote O tomorrow, got it?"

[lordsardine]

.

[screampied]

“. . do you . . know what happens after death, sweetheart?”

the words that slipped out of nanami’s lips struck you right in the very depths of your heart.

it stung—a sharp prod that made the very crevices of your mouth twitch. his hands, his once warm and loving hands started to grow abnormally cold. frigid to where you even started to adapt to his chilled temperature.

“no why….” you started, feeling your throat tighten. “why are you asking me that, kento?” you sniffle, tightly interlocking your fingers with his.

he stares at you with a warm smile spreading across his lips.

regardless of his current position, peacefully resting his back against the ground—his inevitable fate had finally caught up to him.

nanami’s breathing patterns changed significantly. everything was so loud, all he could make out through his peripherals was splotches of blur and your pretty worried face. “. . because,” he continues, and his speech was so slow. you could tell he was trying to get every word out, every syllable, every vowel. just for you and only you. “i’m about to find out, my love . .”

your irises focused on him. nothing else, no one else—just him.

you’ve never seen him like this. so pale, so weak, so . . . scared.

his pure emotion, it showed in his eyes. his perfect brown eyes that you never failed to get lost in. for the first time in what was probably forever, nanami felt…scared. he tried his best to conceal it in front of you though. but even his best wasn’t enough, because you probably knew him better than you knew yourself.

“don’t say things like that, kento,” you mutter, already feeling that annoying plump knot rise up in your throat. your breath was shaky, tremble after tremble. “you’re fine. you can get up. we can get up.”

he knew when you said we, you implied that you’d both be walking away together — hand in hand, like in those stupid cheesy movies you’d watch with him every sunday after he gets off work. but alas, reality was quite harsh to face. an even more incredible tough pill to swallow. nanami knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

it was irksome, you had to squeeze your eyes shut to prevent a single tear to roll down your cheek.

nanami’s eyelids were hanging on by a thread, just barely open. he was trying—trying so hard to hang on, a small pout curls against his lips before he huffs out a single breath.

“ah . . forgive me, you’re right,” he says, his thumb swiftly stroking the front of your hand. a single tear escapes past your lower damp eyelid. even his voice sounded different. a voice you grew to love, so sweet and protective. it now sounded incredibly tired. you could hear a slight wheeze between breaths of his. “hey, don’t cry. don’t do that, look at me.”

his voice was so soft, you sniffled—despising the irritating tears that started to run down both sides of your temples. if it was anything nanami couldn’t stand, it was that he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life shed such sweet pitiful tears for him.

you looked at him, watching his eyelids struggle to stay open for you. everything ached, his body didn’t even feel like his own anymore. it was an indescribable feeling from when he got struck, laying against the slick cold floor of the shibuya train station.

“. . d-don’t leave me,” was all you managed to say, your lips was trembling, your heart pounded and you didn’t wanna say goodbye just yet. “kento, i need you.”

“hm? what are you mumblin’ about, sweetheart? ‘m right here.” his voice, it sounded happier.

you furrowed your eyebrows, now finding yourself buried into nanami’s bare chest, damp chin pressing against his pecs and all.

you were here safe and sound, snuggled up all against him, as you should be. it took you a long while to calm down, he’s staring at you with a soft loving gaze—a brief look of concern before you mumble out a, “..kento? are you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be, baby?” nanami hums, a soft thumb stroking your back. with a relaxed breath, he leans in to plant a gentle kiss near the very tip of your forehead. his touch was forevermore soothing, a touch you never wanted to forget.

you let off a jittery sigh of relief, finally coming to the conclusion that it was another one of your horrid nightmares. you had nothing to worry about.

he was fine.

you were fine,

everything was fine.

. . is what you kept telling yourself.

nanami never told you those words, he didn’t kiss the tip of your forehead or stroke your back lovingly whilst staring into your eyes. the only true unbearable truth was that nanami was gone.

he was gone, and his last words weren’t even “i love you,” or “i’m sorry.” on his fatal dying breaths, nanami’s last words to you while squeezing your hand, sliding a ring into your palm, he rasps out a breathy, “will . . you marry me?”

but before you could tell him yes, he was already gone.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part one here:: link

"oh i dunno if Im going to finish this" I say, right before the plot ate me. anyway this was too big to post in full to tumblr. If you want the full, completed fic (with bonus Fun Fic Facts tm) it is finished and up on A03 here:: link

TW vomiting, drug use

Eddie is good.

Eddie is kind.

Eddie does not run over Henderson’s bike, laying haphazardly in Harrington’s pristine driveway, even if it would make him feel better. 

He does slam his van into park with enough force to make the brakes squeal, which he decides is an excellent way to announce his appearance to the entire neighborhood. 

It’s a move he’s pulled countless times. Charging in and making a scene meant people forgot that he couldn’t actually fight for shit, and equally, took their attention off whatever their original target was.

Which in this case, was Eddie’s too fucking nice freshman. 

The rage pulsing through him is white hot and all encompassing, and it’ll get him through a lot--but the switchblade he carries ensures everyone’s safety in these little matters. 

It makes him brave.

Braver than he should be really, but Eddie spent the entire drive over here chain smoking out the window while prepping for this little confrontation and the more he’d thought it all over, the madder he got.

That a washed up jock thought he could still take advantage of actual children. 

Nevermind Hellfire, or Henderson ditching, or Sinclaire’s ranting. 

This was about their relationship with Harrington. 

A picture has been building in Eddie’s head. One that’s only gotten clearer after today, and one he will be putting an end to, because he doesn’t believe for a second Harrington has a headache. 

Henderson might always be the smartest person in the room, but he’s dumb as hell socially. Too honest, too blunt, and frankly, too goodhearted. 

That makes him easy to take advantage of. 

Sinclair was worse--the guy was too easy to guilt trip. 

It was a noted issue with his ranger, and apparently, himself, and Eddie could easily see how Harrington could have twisted the idea of some ridiculous life-debt to keep Lucas in his clutches.  

Even Mayfield, Billy Hargrove’s former stepsister, was wrapped up in Harrington enough to have a go at her own friends over him! 

She wasn’t even one of his flock, but Eddie was her neighbor. Saw how her mom was barely home. How she was practically raising herself, head down, doing her best not to ever let people see her cry. 

Yeah.

Wouldn’t exactly be difficult for a guy like Steve Harrington to swoop in and take advantage there. 

Wheeler clearly wasn’t a fan and Eddie can only come up with reason after reason as to why--King Jackass had the poor kid’s entire friend group under some kind of--of sick spell.

Well. 

Eddie was here to break it. 

Even if it meant storming into the King’s castle by himself and calling him out on his shit. 

Nobody fucked with his people. Especially not douchebag, washed up jocks. 

He’s up to Harringotn’s ridiculous double doors in a flash, banging hard on the wood with a closed fist, positively fuming and uncaring of who sees. 

Surprise, surprise, it’s Henderson who opens it.

“Eddie?” He says, blinking up at him like he’s not sure of what he’s seeing.  “What are you--hey!” 

Hey, because Eddie’s pushed past him, storming into the house. 

“This has gone on long enough.” He announces, loud as he ever has been. “Where the hell’s Harrington?”

Henderson, frustratingly, does not weep or throw his hands up in celebration of Eddie’s incoming rescue. 

Which is fine--Eddie hasn’t broken the spell yet.

Unfortunately he is bitching, in that infamously annoying tone of his.

“Dude, shut up, Steve’s pills really only work for like, an hour--” 

“Fantastic, he’ll be clear headed for our little talk.” Eddie tells him, head sweeping left and  right as he looks for his target. He’s been in Casa de Harrington a few times before to deal, but it was always at night.

He can now say with perfect honesty that the place looks worse in the bright light of the day. 

“Was that Eddie?” Sinclair calls, and Eddie orients towards him instantly, storming down the hall. 

It doesn’t take long to find the kid. 

 Lucas is standing in a kitchen larger than Eddie’s entire trailer, a too-large pink apron drowning his frame. 

He turns, revealing the front of the thing has  ‘Whisk Taker’ written on it in syrupy white font. 

(Baking puns. Disgusting.) 

“Are you cooking?” Eddie accuses with a sneer, though his disgust isn’t aimed at the freshmen. 

This is exactly what he was afraid of finding. 

Lucas just stares at him. “Uh--yeah?” 

“What did I say about too many people, Munson?” Mayfrield spits angrily. It takes a second to locate her--the kitchen is enormous and far too white--but eventually Eddie realizes she’s perched up on a counter next to the largest sink he’s ever seen. 

For a second, Eddie thinks that’s just where she’s chosen to sit. Then she moves, and he realizes she’s washing and drying a series of water bottles. 

He never in his life thought he’d witness Maxine Mayfield willingly do someone else's dishes. 

“Someone get me Harrington.” He’s not trying for anything dramatic, but his voice must sound dangerous because all three freshmen stop dead, eyes wide as if he's just spoken in tongues.

He zeroes in on Dustin with a glare. “Now.”

Who huffs, throwing his hands up in the air like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here. 

“Absolutely not--we just got Steve to sit down. He’s been following me around the house insisting I’m causing more problems than I’m fixing!”

“Because you are.” Steve says, voice dripping with calm condescension as he appears like a wraith in the doorway. “And I know you’re all into the whole dungeon game, Munson, but this is a little dramatic, even for you.”

Eddie whirls to face him, already vibrating with fury. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s treating them like his personal minions. What’s next, Harrington? Gonna make them re-shingle the roof? Paint your house? Wax your car?”

Steve gives him a flat, almost disbelieving stare. “Do you seriously think I had Henderson miss your game just so I could lounge around while he’s doing chores?”

Eddie doesn’t bite, too busy unloading. “Oh we can both see it’s more than that.”

He doesn’t notice the way Steve’s jaw tenses, or how his hand creeps up to the side of his head, rubbing at his temple. 

“Anything else you want done, Harrington? Maybe make ‘em mow the lawn?” Eddie sneers. “Or teach ‘em to plump your pillows just the way you like—”

Steve finally snaps, pushing himself upright. “You know what Munson, you're right,” he says, voice tight with barely-contained frustration. “I’m clearly a terrible person they need to be rescued from so--”  

He cuts himself off with a hiss,  eyes squeezing shut as his hand goes to the side of his head, and spits out his next words like they hurt. 

“You can play the good guy and take them all home.” 

Dustin, with an exasperated sigh, steps between them. “No,” he tells Steve sternly, as if managing an unruly child, before spinning on his heel to say the exact same thing, in the exact same tone--to Eddie. 

(Jackass freshman can’t even appreciate when they’re being actively rescued!) 

“Eddie, I promise that this isn’t what it looks like.” 

For anyone else it would sound like a plea, but Henderosn somehow makes it condescending.

“We can explain, alright?” Dustin says, raising his hands as though coaxing a skittish animal. “Will you let us explain? Please?”

Eddie glowers. 

“You clearly do not, in fact, know what this looks like. Because if you did,” 

Eddie can make himself menacing and he does so now, pulling on every single year of drama and theatrics and lying to cops he’s had, pushing his shoulders back and making his body tall.

“You would know that it looks like a guy who peaked in high school is forcing a bunch of fourteen year olds to do his bidding.” 

He takes an aggressive step towards Steve, boots thunking hard on the floor. “And that isn’t happening on my watch.” 

“Aren’t you like an extra super senior?” Mayfield says, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Irrelevant!” Eddie swats the air in her direction, as if to physically bat away her words. “I’m still in high school and I’m not emotionally blackmailing a bunch of kids into waiting on me hand and foot while I fake a headache!” 

“Oh ew.” Max’s nose scrunches in disgust, a mixture of disbelief and fury warring on her face. “That is not what’s happening here.” 

“Were you even listening earlier?!” Lucas says, like he can’t quite believe Eddie is this dumb. 

(His character will be the next to die, so Eddie swears.) 

“I did.” Eddie points a finger at him, triumphant. “I heard all about how he’s tricked you into thinking you owe him a life-debt!”

“A what?” Harrington’s squinting, like he’s struggling to follow along what is happening. It’s a halfway decent sick act, Eddie will give it to him, but he knows the facade will drop in a moment. 

As soon as the asshole loses his temper and decides to try and throw Eddie out, he’ll switch from the Poor Me act into the usual pompous, rich dick on a rampage persona. 

“How he’s saved you all, convinced you and Henderson that you’re in debt to him.” 

“Could we just---please stop yelling?” Steve says in the background, heel pressing hard against his eyes. 

Then winces like his own voice hurts his head.

“What the hell, Eddie?!” Dustin’s cut across the room, stepping in between the two older teens. “Where did this even come from!?” 

“Guys.” 

“The mouths of babes, Henderson. Which you would know if you witnessed Sinclair’s rant instead of missing out because King Dickhead demanded your presence at his castle!” 

“Guys.” Steve’s voice abruptly takes on a weird tone, and it’s only Mayfield’s eyes popping wide that has Eddie realizing something is wrong--right before Harrington shoots past him, noisily hurling in the sink.

“Gross!” Max shrieks, throwing herself off the counter. 

Harrington aims a shaky middle finger in her direction. 

“I just washed those bottles Steve, I'm not washing them again!” Mayfield rants, but she’s not fooling anyone. Not with the way she’s already edging back towards him, like she’s afraid he might fall over. 

(Worse, like she might try to catch him, as if Harrington’s broad, barbarian-like shoulders wouldn’t flatten her instantly.) 

“Al-’right.” Harrington slurs a moment later, still panting over the sink. “Everyone--out. Now.” 

“Steve--” 

“Nope. Making it worse. Out.” 

He manages to stand and turn, leaning hard against the counter and for the first time since this all started, Eddie looks at him. 

Properly, and not through the lens of righteous fury. 

Harrington’s pale.

The shirt he’s wearing is stained with sweat marks, his sweatpants clearly old and worn for comfort rather than style. 

His hair…

Eddie has never seen Harrington without his infamously perfect hairdo, and the messy, slick waves plastered to his forehead is more of a shock then him vomiting in the sink. 

He’s got his hands pressed hard against his eyes again, and there’s a slight tremble in his fingers that belay he’s likely in a lot more pain than he’s letting on.

In short, Harrington looks like absolute shit, and Eddie, maybe, possibly, the tiniest bit believes he actually has a migraine. 

Well, it was that or he was really committed to the bit… 

The tense silence that has befallen them all is ruined when Harrington makes a ‘hurk.’ noise.

“I’m going to throw up again.” He decides after a moment of contemplation, before whipping back around to the sink and doing just that. 

“Steve’s right.” Mayfield decides suddenly, over all the nasty noises. “We should leave.” 

“I’m almost done cooking!” Sinclair protests, as if Harrington isn’t presently throwing up the contents of his stomach. 

“You’re almost done burning things, you mean.” Max mutters, but her words can’t hide the blatant concern written all over his face. “I don’t think he’s going to keep anything down.” 

“He needs us to finish what we started.” Dustin argues passionately. “You know how bad he gets, he’s not gonna be able to get up in an hour!” 

(A clear exaggeration, because Harrington looks like he’s not gonna make it across the kitchen unassisted.) 

“What I need is for everyone to stop talking so fucking loud.” Harrington moans, before appearing to give up on life entirely. 

He sort of sags against the counter, resting his head against his arms while bent double, as if that would help things. 

It was at this point that Eddie had the most unfortunate realization that he might be the asshole here. 

Because Harrington looks rough--and if he actually does in fact, have a migraine, then Eddie has done nothing but make it worse.

(Very likely the freshmen have as well, given Dustin is incapable of talking in anything other than a loud yell, and the smell of Lucas’s burnt food has permeated the air.

Mayfield seemed to have accomplished a small amount of actual work, at least.

…If Harrington managed to miss throwing up on the water bottles.) 

“Look,” Harrington interrupts with an audible, thick swallow.“You guys did great, and I appreciate the uh, help. I’m fine, I promise, you can all go home. Munson,” 

He doesn’t turn, but his voice does change into something that’s half pleading, half demanding.

“Can we please fight about this tomorrow? Or next week?” 

“No fighting!” Dustin shrieks, which has the effect of making Harrington cringe into the counter--and that is what finally kicks Eddie over.

Bows to the instincts that now want to wrap up Harrington in a blanket over the ones that want to strangle him, (though both are very much at odds in his head with each other.)

“We can put a pin in it.” He says, all the venom dropping out of his voice,  already knowing what’s going to happen next and hating himself for it. 

Even at his absolute worst, Eddie has never been able to resist trying to fix a problem he’s been presented with--or turn down someone who needs help.

Harrington, clearly, needs help. 

“You heard him.” He tells his freshman, then immediately holds up a hand when all three try to protest at once. 

“Ah-ah, inside voices.” He himself uses a harsh whisper, and then has to fight not to laugh aloud when all three abruptly eye him like he’s lost his head.

He probably has.

(Fucking King Steve.

No one who is that much of a douchebag should ever look that pathetic without deserving it, it’s against the Munson doctrine.) 

“Henderson, have you done anything actually useful while you’ve been here? Like, say, getting a warm washcloth?” 

“I--oh.” Dustin’s on the defense instantly, but for once actually listens before he finishes his sentence. “Uh. No.”

“Go do that then.” Eddie instructs, making sure to keep his voice quiet and even. 

“Sinclair, toss out the eggs, then take the garbage out so it’ll stop stinking up the place. Mayfield, see if these windows open. Harrington…” 

He pauses, watching as Harrington tries to gather himself, moving slowly and deliberately like even breathing hurts. His entire appearance is grating Eddie’s nerves—not because he doesn’t care, but because he does, and that’s infuriating. 

“Go lay down, man.” He finishes lamely. 

He expects the freshmen to listen to him. Knows they will, in his heart of hearts, even if they bitch back, because that’s just how things are when he decides to take charge. So few people truly want to, that others are often relieved when he does. 

Steve Harrington is not most people.

If he argues, he could very well tip things out of control again, which means Eddie is likely going to have to force the trio of fourteen year olds out of the house. 

Henderson and Sinclair he can manage but Mayfield…

Thankfully, Steve pushes off the counter with a groan, muttering something under his breath, but slowly making his way toward the couch without any other protest. 

The freshmen exchange glances, all of them looking just as unsure as Eddie feels. Like they’re waiting for instructions now that their default leader is down for the count.

He clears his throat pointedly. 

“Hello? Did I not give you marching orders?” He bats his hands at them. “Go march!” 

Mayfield mutters something that sounds an awful lot like “hypocrite” but thankfully, does as asked. 

“Are you gonna give us a ride home?” Henderson asks as he finally starts moving around--hopefully to get a damn washcloth. 

“You got yourself here, you can get yourself home.” Eddie scoffs back, taking stock of Harrington’s kitchen. 

He eyes the line of pain pills laid out on the counter, quickly noting not one of them is anything that would help with a sneeze let alone a migraine. 

Typical. 

“Why not?” Dustin disappeared down a hallway, but the fact Eddie can still hear him plain as day speaks to his ability to keep quiet. “You have your van, don’t you?” 

“Because I’m not leaving when you three are leaving.” 

It’s an absentminded comment, given his mind is elsewhere. 

Weed may be his bread and butter but he does have a handful of more serious things on offer. 

Of those things, one or two have some fun little unexpected side effects, and if Eddie recalls Rick’s yapping right, one of said things was stopping headaches. 

Said magic little mushrooms might even be in a pocket or two, here, if he remembers right… 

“Wait, you're staying here?” Lucas protests, far too loudly. 

"Ssszzhh!" Eddie hisses, drawing out the sound dramatically, mostly for the sake of cutting off whatever protests were coming his way. 

“No arguing. Your beloved King clearly needs a nap, and that means you’re all off duty. Unless," he adds with a raised eyebrow, "you intend to watch him sleep?"

Dustin looks torn, but mutters a quiet, "No," his eyes shifting sideways like he's weighing the logic.

"Good. Then if you’re all finished…?”

He waits for the nods he knows are coming. 

“Excellent. Now leave." Eddie says, pointing towards the door. 

They hesitate for a second, but then finally begin to shuffle out, the door clicking quietly behind them. 

And just like that, Eddie’s left standing there, watching Steve breathe shallowly on the couch--with a washrag over his eyes.

(At least Dustin managed that.) 

He could leave now. 

Should leave, really. Giving out drugs for free is not exactly a good business move and Steve will no doubt sleep the headache off without it. But Eddie’s feet don't seem to agree with him, rooted in place as his gaze lingers on the sharp line of Steve's jaw, the slight twitch of his brow every time a muscle aches.

Feels the pull, deep in his gut, to provide the relief he knows he can give. 

Before he knows what’s happening, he’s moving, crossing the room toward him.

“Munson?” Harrington squints up at him as he registers his presence, washcloth nudged upwards by shaky fingers. “Why’r you still ‘ere?” 

“Because I’m stupid.” Eddie mutters, right before realizing he actually said that outloud. 

“What?” 

Thank God for Harrington’s headache. 

“You look terrible, man.”  Eddie says slightly louder. “That hair of yours is so flat I think your crown’s gonna fall right off.” 

He’d meant it as a joke--spoke it like one, but it seems to snap Harrington out of his pity party. 

The sigh that blasts out of him is a whole body affair, and gets his feelings across better than his words do. “I get it. You thought this was something else and it wasn’t. Not the first time that’s happened.” 

He turns, cheek scraping against the fabric of his shirt, red rimmed eyes squinting against the light to look at Eddie. 

“You got your laugh in, so you can go.” 

There’s defeat in his voice. Like he’s accepted this might as well have happened. 

(Like he’s just as beaten down as anyone Eddie has ever saved.) 

“I didn’t stick around to laugh.” Eddie keeps his voice soft, and that somehow, makes the next part easier to say.  

“I honestly thought you were messing around with Henderson and Sinclair, and I uh, I’m used to being the only person who gives a shit. When that kind of thing happens.” 

Harrington grimaces. 

“It’s okay.” he mutters, eyes sliding closed once more. “Most people still think I’m an asshole.”

His tone has gone odd again, wrecked and rasping, migraine clearly trumping whatever strong feelings he had on the matter. 

And the stupid thing was, Harrington himself was never really an asshole. 

Sure he went along with the assholes, and he definitely egged them on if not outright participated in some of the lower tier shitty activities, but he wasn’t the guy slamming people into lockers. 

(Eddie, in fact, has a hazy memory of Steve telling off Hagan for doing said locker slamming.) 

It didn’t make him a good guy--he’d had slung too many insults around to get that label--but in the rankings of assholery, his was of the average variety. 

Which means that Eddie cannot logic himself out of his own stupid desire to help.

Even if he really, really wants to.

“Yeah well, even assholes need assistance sometimes, and since I kicked your help out, it’s on to make up for it.” 

“No offense,” Steve slurs tiredly, “but I don’t think you’re any quieter than Dustin.” 

A smile ghosts over Eddie’s face. 

“I live in a tiny ass trailer, Harrington. Trust me,  I know how to be quiet. I simply choose not to be.” He moves, slow and careful, until he’s seated next to the fallen King on his stupidly huge (and very uncomfortable) couch. 

Steve’s eye follows him over, staring up as he white knuckles his sweatpants, washrag sitting crooked on his forehead. 

“I’m not sure I’m not gonna throw up again.” He admits after a moment. 

“And that right there is one of the things I can help with. Provided,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows, “that you don’t mind taking a more recreational route for your recovery?” 

“....are you offering me drugs?” 

“I am indeed.” Eddie confirms with a real smile, plucking the offending baggie out of a pocket. 

“You ever done shrooms, your majesty?” 

Steve huffs a quiet noise that might have been a snort, had he put any effort behind it. 

“How is that going to help?” 

“Be-cauuuuuse,” Eddie draws the words out, still a showman even if he is doing his level best to talk as quietly as possible, “shrooms are what we call a psychedelic, and those are pretty well known among certain circles as the headache healer.” 

Provided one took the medicinal amount and not the down-the-rabbit-hole amount. 

Harrington’s eyes are back open, only this time they’re looking at Eddie’s fingers the same way a dog looks at a nail trimmer: concerned and not entirely unsure it wasn’t going to bite him. 

“I’m not…” He cuts himself off, frowning. 

“You’ve bought plenty of my weed, Harrington. Trust me this isn’t any different.” Eddie tells him. 

Isn’t offended in the slightest--this reaction is pretty typical for people who have only smoked the ganja. 

Even the ones who asked to try for something with a little more ‘umph.’ 

“S’not that.”Steve admits quietly. “I uh. Had a bad trip. While back.” 

“Ah, gunshy.” Eddie says it without a lick of judgment, because Eddie’s been there.

Or rather in the shower, at two am because he accidentally spilled LSD on his hand and promptly tripped balls for 48 hours after.  

 “I’ll hang around a bit, if you like.” He offers casually. “Make sure things don’t go sideways.”

He gets another huff-snort as Harrington’s watery eyes return their attention to him. 

“And what are you going to do if they do go sideways?”

“Put you back together again.”  

Eddie knows his grin is crooked, but can’t help it. He’s thinking about Humpty Dumpty and the King’s Men.  

Somehow he doesn’t see Steve Harrington cracking that easily—at least, not without putting up a good fight—but drugs did worse things to better people. 

“It really helps?” Steve asks, voice quiet. Doubtful.

Eddie presses his hands to his chest. “Scouts honor.”

“You were not a boy scout.” Steve tells him, but he’s struggling to sit up anyway, looking game. 

“Alright, so how do I do this?” He asks, though he’s already halfway down again, propped up on his elbows.

“First, you lay back down, and I’ll brew it into tea,” Eddie explains. 

“Tea?”

“Well, you could eat them straight, but I don’t think they’d taste too great. Not that I wouldn’t mind watching you try.”

Steve scowls. “Sadist.”

“Guilty,” Eddie replies, biting back the urge to sing-song it, keeping his voice down and steady. “Just a heads-up: they kick in fast, but I’ll go light on you—nothing like the ‘fun’ dose for the usual crowd.”

Which is how he ends up back in the kitchen, this time making tea and humming to himself, before offering the final brewed concoction to Harrington.

Who downs it like a shot, because he’s a fucking frat-bro at heart. 

“I didn’t find a teacup for you to do that.” 

Between a full-body shudder and a dramatic grimace, Steve chokes out “Not gonna lie I didn’t think we owned a teacup.” 

“What, do you think I just have them in my van?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” 

Which is kind of hysterical, and something Eddie may be doing--not that he’s telling Harrington that. 

“And now we wait!” He announces instead of rambling about teacups, nearly clapping his hands together before he remembers the migraine Steve is soldiering through with surprising grit. 

Eddie himself would have turned into a whiny mess, so he can’t help but admire the guy’s restraint.

“Waiting to see if I hurl again, you mean?” Steve mutters, flopping backward onto the couch. “That tasted like battery acid.”

“Think it’s coming back up?”

“No clue.”

They sit in silence for a second, then Eddie pokes, “Maybe it’s best if you crash in your room, man. You look like death warmed over, and this couch sucks.” 

An understatement, if there ever was one. The fucking thing didn’t seem to be made for people to actually sit on. 

Reluctantly, Steve pulls himself up, heading toward his room. Eddie tags along, snarky grin covering the way he holds his hands out in case the jock ahead of him slips on the stairs and takes them both out. 

(Unlike Mayfield, Eddie does not pretend Steve doesn’t outclass him weight wise. The man was built like a brickhouse, and he has to fight to keep his eyes up toward Steve’s hair instead of on his ass.) 

Thankfully, he’s saved from all R-rated thoughts by the sheer horror of Harrington’s bedroom. 

“Harrington, I’ve found the source of all your migraines.” Eddie tells him, tone as serious as he’s ever been.

“Ha-ha.” Steve deadpans, stepping into his plaid fucking room. 

“I’m not kidding, I’m getting a headache and I’ve been here less than five seconds.” 

The whole place truly is a nightmare--like someone took one of those plaid hunting jackets and themed an entire room around it. 

Fucking rich people. 

“Trust me, it’s not the wallpaper.” 

“Given how you’re weaving on your feet, I think it’s safe to say I don’t trust you at all.” Eddie tells him, half helping half dragging Steve towards the bed. 

It’s a comfy looking thing and Harrington falls into it gratefully, immediately crawling under the covers. 

“You know where to find me?” Eddie asks him, refusing to think Harrington snuggling up in his bed is something cute. 

“Yeah?”

“Good. Hit me up next time your head gets bad. I’ll make sure to keep some of this,” He shakes the little baggie, “on hand.” 

Steve’s pulled the covers all the way up past his chin, but he moves it down a little to properly cock an eye at Eddie. 

“Dare I ask what you're gonna charge for that?”

“Let’s call it a fair trade for all those times you’ve driven the freshman home from Hellfire.” 

If Steve even recalls this conversation, that is. Eddie hadn’t exactly given him the “fun” kind of dose, but then, he himself has never tested out what dose is needed to cure headaches rather than simply having  fun destroying one's own ego. 

He supposes that’s something he and Harrington both will have to test, between them--because Eddie meant it when he offered the drugs for free.

No one deserves to suffer from the kind of migraine Harrington clearly had. 

“Think you’re good to drop off.” Eddie tells him, after making sure Steve is happily content in his bed. 

Checks his watch to make sure enough time has passed to safely call it, before beginning to attempt his way out of Steve’s god-awful bedroom. 

Which of course, is when Harrington reaches out, looping his fingers around Eddie’s wrist. 

It freezes him in place. 

In a moment that is so utterly selfish and stupid that Eddie will loudly insist it was a hallucination should Harrington ever dare ask about it, he turns his palm and moves so that he’s clasping Steve’s fingers with his own. 

“Thanks. For all this.” Steve whispers, as they hold hands for a moment. 

Eddie squeezes his fingers against the younger man’s before he moves to make his retreat, flashing a peace sign over his shoulder as he goes.  

“Anytime, big boy.” 

Anytime. 

xxx

The thing no one tells you about creating a doctrine, is that at some point or another, someone’s going to hold you to it. 

In Eddie’s case it’s four very pissed off teenagers.

He has a gold medal in mental gymnastics and a silver in denial. Left on his own devices he could easily excuse everything that happened yesterday. 

Reclassify the fallen King as pathetic, and the kids' weird loyalty to him as a holdover from his babysitting days. 

Blame their nosy-ness on them being involved in Harrington’s life, and happily go back to mocking their relationship with renewed vigor because now he’s not going to handwave their behavior as being afraid of Harrington. 

Nope, they clearly and willingly, have attached themselves to the King, which means Eddie gets to make fun of them for life. 

Pity they don’t leave Eddie to his own devices. 

In fact, the little shits hit him up first thing in the morning, early enough that he's’ a little suspicious that the boys slept over at Max’s trailer. 

“We’re not done talking about Steve.” Mayfield tells him and given the determined (Henderson) angry (Sinclair) and put out (Wheeler Jr.) faces glaring at him from over her shoulder, Eddie figures his chances for getting out of this conversation are slim to none.

“Good morning to you too.” He snarks, voice gravel-deep with sleep. “What do you little shits want?”

“I literally just said.” Max rolls her eyes so hard he thinks about commenting that they may stick back there, only to decide that makes him sound too much like a teacher for his liking. 

(Besides if they get stuck, he’ll have an excuse to whack her on the back of her head without getting murdered for it.

…well. 

An attempt at an excuse, anyway.) 

“And who says I have anything I want to talk about?” He fires back, leaning a shoulder against the old metal doorframe. 

Just because he understood what they wanted didn’t mean he was going to make it easy. 

“Would you just let us in?” 

“No.” 

“Eddie.” Dustin whines, and Eddie redirects his frown his way. “Come on.” 

“Well I suppose if you say it that way,” Eddie hums thoughtfully. “No.” 

“Steve’s sick, you asswipe.” Max snaps angrily. 

“I know,” He volleys back, brightly sarcastic. “I saw him yesterday.”

Because it’s Mayfield, she matches him tit for tat, a mimicry of his sarcastic drawl entering her voice. “Good! You get to see him today too.”

And just like that their little ambush makes sense.

(He’s got to find a new way to get the damn kids to fear him, clearly his usual menacingness  just isn’t cutting it anymore.) 

“And why would I do that?” 

He’s done his good deed. He helped Harrington out, and even offered free drugs to help him get his migraines under control. 

Checking up on the guy was overkill.  

“We were gonna do it, but someone let it slip that Steve was sick.” A cutting glance is given to Henderson, who makes a face but otherwise holds his ground. 

“And his mom called everyone else's parents with instructions that we leave him alone until he feels better.”  

“So now if we go over there,” Sinclair finishes for his girlfriend, “we get grounded.” 

Which neatly answers every question that just popped into Eddie’s head. 

The threat makes sense for the boys--Eddie’s met Claudia Henderson and though she has that bubbly, easy to confuse nature of suburbanites everywhere, there was an undercurrent in her eyes of someone who knew more than she was letting on. 

Or perhaps, someone who simply knew what they wanted, and was happy to settle and wait for it. 

 Likewise the Sinclair and Wheeler parental units seem to want to keep in her--and Steve’s, no doubt, given he carts their kids around--good graces. 

Given Mayfield’s mom wasn’t even home last night, her participation in this farce does not make sense and Eddie narrows his eyes at her in warning. 

“I fail to see how this is my problem.” He says instead of directly calling her out.

She knows he knows, and he’s smart enough to figure out how to relay that without saying it directly. 

(An action taken out of respect for surviving a bad home life, and absolutely not because he’s terrified she’ll crawl through his window to enact revenge in the middle of the night.) 

“It’s your problem because you owe him one.” she tells him firmly. “And us.”

Oh no he does not. 

“How so?” He challenges with a snorted laugh. 

“You did kind of storm into his house and yell a lot.” Sinclair points out. He’s doing better at speaking up, Eddie realizes with a twisted sense of pride and dread. 

Not quite so easy to steamroll after his outburst yesterday. 

A part of him hopes that sticks around--Sinclair needs a spine, and not just because Mayfield will keep running circles around him until he grows one. 

The rest of Eddie is pissed off that he decided to get one now, when it directly impacted Eddie’s Saturday morning sleeping plans.  

Leave it to these dickheads to use a good deed against him.

“Look--we can’t make sure he’s okay. You can.” Mayfield steps up to jam a painted fingernail in Eddie’s chest. “He won’t let us do anything that will actually help him. You, he can't stop.” 

He does not take a step backward and thus lose all the cool points he has left in the eyes of the younger Hellfire members, but only because he’s already leaned up against the doorframe. 

He bares his teeth at her in a silent snarl instead. 

“We made it worse.” She admits, voice sharp. “And I don’t know how to make it better, but you seem to be able to, so congrats Munson--you get to go again!” 

Which gets Eddie’s back right up. 

He pushes off the doorframe, ready to tell Mayfield--and all his little dipshits--right off, except this is when Wheeler Jr., of all people, decides to add in his two cents. 

“If you don’t go, no one else will.” He looks off to the side while he says it, arms crossed tight across his chest and spitting the words out like he's admitting to a crime. “Robin’s not coming back until Monday and Nancy's got some stupid thing, so you’re literally the only person who can go.” 

Well just stab him in the heart, why don’t you. 

“What are the chances of you fucking back off to whatever hole you crawled out of if I refuse?” He asks, already knowing that he’s done for.

Accepted his fate, because he knows what it’s like not to have someone to rely on, when you need them the most. 

“Zero.” Sinclair and Henderson chant as one. 

“Well then.” He tells them with the biggest, most put upon sigh he can manage. “Guess you got me in a box here.” 

Mayfield grins at him.

It reminds him vaguely of a shark. 

A bloodthirsty, slightly demonic, mean shark. 

“Good. Go get dressed.”

“Oh I’m doing this right now, am I?” He complains, but he’s already moving to go back into his trailer. 

“We’re not leaving until you do!” Mayfield yells at him.

Eddie slams the door in her face. 

(He’s never adopting freshmen again, as long as he fucking lives.)

[coldfanbou]

TM IS Side Story: New Toy

Little side story for you all, @twice-inamillion looks like Somi is getting some training.

Some weeks before your birthday, Jihyo had gone out to meet with someone. In the middle of the conversation, she brought up the real reason she wanted to meet Somi and mentioned her family. “I need you to understand that it’s dangerous for you to know,” Jihyo said, leaning back against her chair. “So I want you to sleep with him. Chaeyoung mentioned that you wanted to get your cherry popped by him. I know that you can Chaeyoung mess around with each other, so letting him fuck you should be fine, right?” Jihyo leans forward onto the table, giving Somi a smirk and showing her command over the situation. Somi looked around nervously; it was true since that day with Chaeyoung, she had thought about you a lot, masturbating to thoughts of you taking her more than once. “I need to protect my family, so I need some dirt on you, and this is just the way to do it.” She said in a stern voice.

“I understand, but-”

“I’ll get you ready for him; you’re going to be a birthday surprise.” Jihyo interrupts, handing her a slip of paper telling Somi where to meet her. Somi nods along, some of her worries disappearing because of Jihyo’s comforting words. Still, Somi knew this was to protect everyone’s careers with a type of mutually assured destruction in case something went wrong.

A week went by and Somi met Jihyo at the place she had written on the slip of paper, walking inside with the older woman as they got themselves a room in a hotel. Once inside Jihyo put down the briefcase she had bought and told Somi to strip and lay down on the bed. “Take this too; it’ll get you in the mood.” Deciding not to question it, Somi took the pills offered to her and stripped down, standing naked in front of Jihyo as the older woman got out of her clothes, too. Somi crawled onto the bed, lying down as Jihyo looked through her briefcase and laid out toys. Somi felt her body grow hotter as she watched the older woman check through the toys. 

Somi pursed her lips as the older woman set out many toys, looking at them individually before turning to her. Jihyo crawled over the younger woman, “This is how it’s going to go, Somi. I’m going to make sure your body is ready for him.” Jihyo lays herself on top of Somi, reaching down and groping her ass. “This is going to be the first place we train.” 

Somi shut her eyes, moaning as she felt Jihyo kiss her neck, “It’s going to take a while to get you ready,” Jihyo left a trail of kisses down, stopping as she reached Somi’s breasts. She stuck her tongue out, circling the hard nub before biting it gently. Jihyo pulled back, still biting Somi’s nipple. The pain and pleasure mixed; it was a whole new world for Somi, who felt a tightness in her core. Somi’s other breast wasn’t left alone; Jihyo squeezed it, pinching and pulling on the younger woman’s nipple. Somi’s moans grew louder, and the urge to finger herself grew stronger as Jihyo switched tits. “Shh, we haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Jihyo whispers. 

Somi, struggling to contain herself, moved her hand down her body and attempted to finger herself but was stopped by Jihyo. “From now until then, you're not allowed to touch yourself, understand? Mommy is going to take care of you.” Jihyo said, staring into Somi’s eyes. The younger woman gulped and nodded her head, pulling her hand away from her slit. Jihyo smiled and returned to pleasuring the younger woman, focusing solely on her tits for what seemed like forever. Somi was on the verge of cumming from that alone, but Jihyo pulled away.

“It’s time for you to turn around,” the older woman ordered. Somi did as she was told and waited, feeling Jihyo's weight move off the bed. She looked over her shoulder and watched the Twice leader put on a strap-on. It was about five inches as far as Somi could tell. Jihyo rubbed the cock, coating it in lube as she prepared to move on to the next step. As she climbed back onto the bed, Jihyo whispered to Somi, “We need to make sure your ass is going to be able to take his cock just as well as Chaeyoung’s. I hope you’re fine with not sitting right for a few weeks.” Jihyo spread the younger woman’s cheeks apart and pushed a single finger inside, testing the tightness of her asshole. Somi cooed as she felt the older woman curl her finger inside her. Her body shuddered as she came from that alone. Jihyo spanked the younger woman, “Who told you you can cum?” Jihyo asked, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Somi groaned as she felt Jihyo add another finger to her ass. 

“Mommy is going to teach you a lot, but you have to get better at holding on,” Jihyo said, plunging her fingers into the younger woman. Somi moaned again, the tightness in her core coming back quickly. “I haven’t even put it in, and you're going to cum twice,” she complained, her fingers continuing to lube Somi’s walls. Jihyo positioned herself behind Somi, holding onto her waist as she pushed the head of her strap-on against the puckered hole. Somi buried her face in one of the pillows, groaning as she felt the head push inside, stretching her previously virgin ass. Jihyo continued to push in slowly, making sure every inch was inside and letting Somi become accustomed to it before beginning her thrusts. The older woman pressed down on Somi’s head with one hand as she used the other to keep the younger woman’s lower body arched as Jihyo thrust. 

The pleasure Somi felt outweighed the pain, and with every thrust, she was cumming, her body twitching as Jihyo took her from behind. Somi moans filled the room, and she begged for her mommy to fuck her. 

Jihyo smiled as she listened to the younger woman beg for more. Her plan to turn Somi into the perfect plaything was going to be a lot easier than she thought. The pair continued to fuck her hours, with Jihyo breaking Somi’s mind and making her pass out. This process continued for weeks leading up to your birthday, with Jihyo training Somi on how to give good blowjobs and what you liked. In each lesson, Somi became more and more submissive, focused on her goal of being the perfect toy. The pills she was given helped her by flooding her body with more pleasure. Somi followed every order during and after training, making it weeks since she touched herself. The only time she released all her tension was when Jihyo was training her. 

[babyfoxflower]

Professor

Human! Professor! Alastor x Fem! Reader

Modern College AU

Part 1 of 2 (Part 2)

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Age Gap (Alastor is 32 and Reader is 22), Mentions of Cheating, No Smut but Suggestive, There will be smut in part two

It had been a rough night. You broke up with your boyfriend after you found out he cheated on you. You practically chugged down a bottle of coconut rum and were now outside your handsome Communications professor’s apartment.

Is this a good idea? I don’t know but I just want to forget.

You knocked on the door. After a few moments, it opened. There he was, Professor Hartfelt, his normally gelled hair looking a little messy. He was still wearing his work clothes, white buttoned up shirt and black slacks.

“Y/n? What are you doing here at this hour?” He adjusted his round glasses.

“Professor Hartfelt! How are you on this fine night?” You slurred, leaning one arm against the door frame.

“Are you drunk, dear?” His eyes were filled with concern.

Your courage seemed to falter, “This was a bad idea, I should go.”

You turned to leave but a large hand gently took hold of your hand, “Wait, I can’t let you wander about at this time of night in your current state. Please, come in, Darling.” 

You stumbled into his apartment, he helped steady you. He led you over to the couch, “Here, sit down.”

You plopped yourself down on the couch.

“I’ll get you some water. You’re probably dehydrated.”

You giggled.

“What’s so funny, my dear?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you, it’s just you’re acting like my parents did whenever I came home drunk from a party.”

“Well, you seem like you need someone to take care of you right now,” Professor Hartfelt smiled softly at you.

“I’m not a child,” you puffed out your cheeks.

“I know, but you are not exactly in the state of mind to take care of yourself, are you?”

“I guess…not?”

“Let me go get that water. Would you also like a Tylenol for the inevitable headache?”

“What good is that going to do me now?” You gave him a puzzled look.

“Trust me, Darling, I’ve had my fair share of drunken nights. I know how to deal with as well as prevent hangovers.”

“Alright. I’ll take one.”

“Good girl,” he praised.

His sexy smooth voice sent a shiver through your body, your heart skipping a beat. You took a look around his apartment, it was a studio. Along with the couch you were sitting on, it had a kitchen area, a bed, and room off to the side that was most likely the bathroom. On the walls were some framed pictures and abstract art. The thing you noticed right away was there was no television.

“You don’t have a TV?” You turned to him as he was getting you some water from his refrigerator.

“No, I don’t. If you’re bored, you can turn on the radio if you like.”

“Who listens to the radio now of days?”

“I do. It’s less brain rotting than television,” he laughed.

“It’s also boring,” you scoffed.

“That we’ll just have to agree to disagree on, my dear.”

He walked over with a cup of water and a bottle of Tylenol. He took a seat next to you and handed you the water. You took a few sips.

“Would you like one or two?” Professor Hartfelt asked while opening the bottle.

“Let’s start with one and then see how I feel,” your speech slurred again.

“Alright,” he pressed one into your hand.

“Thank you, Professor,” you put the pill in your mouth and used the water to swallow it.

“Now, I want to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Why exactly did you choose to come here? Did something happen to you?” Concern washed over his face.

You took a few more drinks of water, before finally answering him. “I broke up with my boyfriend. He was cheating on me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Darling. What a fool he was, throwing away a relationship with a girl like you.”

“Well as you can see, I got hammered and now I’m here.”

“Yes, but why are you here? Surely you have friends, you could have gone to.”

“I do but…”

“Go on.”

“I��wanted…to see you,” you shut your eyes tight.

“You wanted to see me?” A surprised expression on his face.

“Yes, I have a big crush on you. I was hoping that maybe you could help me forget?”

“Oh, I see. You were trying to…”

“Seduce you.”

“How did know I wasn’t married?”

“Easy, I’ve never seen you wear a wedding ring. And you are the formal, old fashioned type. If you were married, you would wear a ring.”

“Good observation. But how did you know I would even be interested?”

“Well…I’ve seen you looking at me. And it wasn’t just once or twice, you seem to have a habit of looking at me when you think I’m not.”

His face flushed just a bit, he chuckled before rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been caught, hmm?”

He thought for sure he was being slick about it. That you wouldn’t catch on, but you were a clever one. That’s another reason why he had a thing for you. Or as you said, ‘a big crush.’

You put your glass down on one of the coasters on the table, “Please, sir. I want to forget about that bastard! Just one night, I promise.”

“Dear, I can’t.”

“Why? Because I’m your student?”

“Not so much that. More so the fact that you’re drunk and I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“Oh, come on! I consent! Please, fuck me. You won’t be disappointed,” you said the last part in a sultry voice.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t be, but I still not going to sleep with an intoxicated woman. It’s wrong,” he said firmly but with a tenderness in his eyes.

You started to cry, “Please…please.”

Suddenly, he scooped you up into his arms before carrying you over to his bed. He set you down gently, wiping away the tears from your eyes, “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t cry.”

“Are you?”

“No, Darling. I’m simply tucking you in. You need some sleep.”

You reached up and kissed him. He gave a tiny peck back, restraining himself, he wanted to kiss you more, give you what you craved. You weren’t even aware of how badly he wanted you. But as he said he was not going to take advantage of you.

“I promise, if you’re still interested in the morning when you’re sober, I will give you exactly what you want,” he whispered in your ear.

He went over to the couch and picked up a book from the coffee table. You huffed before removing your shoes. You turned your body away from him as you got under the covers. Slowly, you fell sleep to the soft jazz tones that were coming quietly from his radio.

Alastor sighed as he rubbed his temples, his cat who was hiding under the bed, came running into his lap. He stroked the cat gently, she purred.

“It’s always nice when the person you like, likes you back, isn’t it, Luna?” He smiled.

She meowed as if in agreement.

Stay tuned for part two!

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 26 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You've given Bradley one job to do, and he's not quite sure how successful he has been. But he couldn't care less whether or not you're on birth control. Not when he's in love with his family. Not when there are so many other things starting to press on his mind.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, body image, oral sex, smut, DILF Roo

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley loved La Jolla. He loved this hotel. He loved the people that you and he became every time you stayed at this hotel. By Friday night, he'd eaten two seafood platters at the beachside restaurant, taken two naps on a blanket in the sand while you played with his hair, consumed a lot of your breast milk, and fucked you all over the hotel room.

"Let's call and check on Rose again," you mused, laying across Bradley's lap on the couch. He had his hand tucked inside the front of the fluffy, white robe you were wearing, gently caressing the soft underside of your breast and your belly. He had just finished making sure you didn't feel too full, and now you were yawning and snuggling up against his thigh.

"If you want to FaceTime your parents, we should get dressed."

"Why? I think the robes are fine," you said, gesturing to the matching one he was wearing that was a little too small on him. "It's not like they don't know what we're doing here."

Bradley felt himself blushing. He supposed anyone would make the same assumption, but he pulled your robe tight up to your neck and tied the sash anyway. As if that would ward off the idea that all he wanted to do for the rest of the weekend was fuck you until you couldn't walk.

"Okay, let's call and check on Rose."

A few seconds later, you were sitting next to him on the couch, and both of you were staring at your phone screen. Rose was on her play mat in the living room, holding her head up like a total boss, trying to reach Tramp.

"I swear she's almost crawling," your mom's voice said through the phone.

"She's only three months old!" you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Almost three and a half," Bradley supplied, pulling your phone closer to him. "I told you she's a damn genius."

"She is," your mom said. "She holds the bottle by herself when we feed her, and she reaches for the pages in her board books when she likes the colors."

"See?" Bradley asked you, gesturing like he was right all along.

"And she's just adorable, too," your mom gushed, moving the phone closer to Rose's face. "Such a sweet baby. Just like you were."

"An adorable genius," Bradley reiterated, making you bury your face against his neck while you laughed. "Everything's going okay there?"

"Of course," your mom promised. "Dad's taking a little nap so he can do the nighttime feeding. He took Tramp for a long walk earlier. Rose has been eating like a pro. Everything is good. Enjoy the rest of your weekend."

There was a hint of teasing in her tone while she said the last sentence, and Bradley cradled his face in his hand as you said goodbye and ended the call. 

"It's like she knows we did a bunch of dirty shit on the balcony last night," Bradley murmured.

"Do not start with me, Bradley. Dr. Morris knows you've had your cock in my ass because you can't keep your mouth shut."

"Oh," he said, immediately perking up. "Can we do that again? Zero risk of you getting pregnant even if I don't pull out."

Your lips were all over his even as you laughed. "I didn't bring the fancy lube. It's probably on my nightstand with my pill pack."

He wanted to suggest he knew how to get you so wet you would be fine without the fancy lube, but he wasn't about to press his luck or hurt you. And now he was distracted as you yanked at the sash securing his robe before kissing your way down his chest. "Okay," he grunted, watching your every move. "I like this, too." Your wide eyes were aimed up at his as you trailed your tongue down along his abs and settled on the floor between his legs. You let your cheek rest on his thigh, close enough to his hardening cock that he could feel your breath when you spoke.

"I have an idea."

"Jesus," he whispered, licking his lips as yours grazed his sparse leg hairs. "Tell me, Baby Girl," he coaxed, running his knuckles softly along your cheek. "Anything you want is what we'll do."

Your lips brushed his balls, warm and deliberate, and a shiver surged through his spine like electricity. A low groan escaped before he could stop it. His eyelids fluttered shut, head tipping back as you kissed him delicately.

"How about we get drunk on champagne and mess around for the rest of the night?"

He cracked his eyes open. You were waiting for an answer, but you'd never rush him when it came to this. He didn't love the idea of drunk sex. Consent was important to him, especially because of the manner in which he'd lost his virginity. But you were the only woman he ever trusted with his whole heart, and he knew you would never take advantage of him.

"Change drunk to tipsy, and you've got yourself a deal, Sweetheart."

----------------------------

You kept tugging your robe shut while Bradley kept trying to discreetly open it further. "Roo," you whispered on a laugh, perched with your legs straddling his lap.

"Hmm?" His own robe had been discarded behind him on the couch, and he was holding a chilled bottle of champagne against your thigh while he sucked on your neck. His mustache was sinful, and his thick cock was heavy against your core. "You're so pretty." He flashed his brown eyes up at you. "I love you so much. Why you trying to hide those titties from me?"

Oh, he was definitely a bit tipsy now, but so were you. Getting him to mess around like this was always a bit of a hard sell, and you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable. But he really turned you on when his lips loosened up a bit. It was always a perfectly mixed combination of sweet sentiments and dirty talk, and you ate it right up.

This time, when he tried to nudge open your robe with his nose against your collarbone, you let him. His eyes lit up as he pushed the sleeves down your arms. "That's better," he whispered as the fluffy fabric fell to the floor at his feet. He leaned back and took a long sip of champagne while he studied you with half lidded eyes. "Oh god. Sometimes I can't believe you married me." Your cheeks felt warm from the champagne as well as from his words as his cool fingertip traced your dainty rooster tattoo. "You didn't have this last time we were here."

You shook your head slightly. "That was your wedding gift."

One big hand slid down your back until he was cupping your ass, and he stood up in one fluid motion while you scrambled to hang on. "Bradley," you shrieked as he walked past the open balcony door and carried you all the way to the bathroom. "Where are we going?"

"I want to fuck my wife," he replied casually, setting you down on the marble counter. "Where we can get a little messy."

You shivered when he tipped the champagne bottle and let some of the bubbly drink trickle down your breasts and across your hard nipples. "It's so cold!" you complained, but his mouth smothered your words and you moaned. When you tried to squeeze your thighs together, he was wedged firmly between them. You were grabbing along the vanity, at his mercy, and you were so turned on.

"I want to fuck you," he repeated before another kiss left you reeling. Then he trailed sloppy kisses down to your breasts, licking away the sticky, bubbly mess. "I want to fuck you so hard, Sweetheart."

His cock was right at your opening, begging for entrance, but all you could do was whimper his name. Then there was more cold champagne on your sensitive skin followed by his warm tongue. You were so turned on, you wanted to cry as you scooted closer to his body.

"Please?" Bradley begged as just the tip of his cock slipped inside you. His voice was like honey as he set the bottle down and wrapped his hand around your hip. "I'll make you feel so good," he crooned, staring at your lips while he stroked your tattoo. He pushed his cock a little deeper still and kissed your forehead.

"Fuck me, Bradley," you moaned as he held eye contact. You were a little tipsy and very needy at the moment as you added, "Hard."

You wrapped your calf around his hip, trying to get what he promised you, but instead you got another slow inch and his cool lips on your temple. Gently, he tipped your head back and whispered, "Are you sure that's what you want? Because you're allowed to have anything. I'll gladly give you anything."

"Why are you like this, Roo? You're sweet and so fucking dirty. Just fuck me."

You squealed when his big fingers dug into your thighs, guiding them further apart, watching the place the two of you were intimately connected. His gaze trailed slowly up your body to your face. "God, you are so fucking sexy," he whispered with a snap of his hips. He bottomed out as you reached for his shoulders to keep yourself steady. "You look like my little slut, the way you're taking me. But you're my wife, which is so much better."

Bradley's words were filthy, and his lips were soft and sweet. But his hands and the pace at which he fucked you were demanding and unrelenting. When his thumb found your clit, circling at a pace that left you breathless, your teeth began to chatter as your back arched. When you came for him, he slammed into you. He let you have him, hard. Breasts bouncing and voice jerky as he went all the way. Sweat beading on his brow as he moaned your name like he'd never get enough.

Your head was spinning with desire, and he went until he was gasping and grunting, using your body to coax him through his own orgasm. "I love you," he murmured breathlessly, his glistening cock still gliding in and out of your pussy before he pulled himself free, shooting cum all over you. The back of your head tapped the mirror as he kissed you just as hard as he'd fucked you.

When he finally let you breathe again, he whispered, "Somehow I love you even more now than the last time we were here."

-----------------------------

On Sunday morning, Bradley got carried away. There was no more champagne, and the two of you had been out late on the beach watching fireworks the night before. You were tired, and he was tired. But when he woke with your body nestled on top of him like usual, your lips were pressed to his neck, and your tits were leaking onto his chest.

"Fuck," he gasped softly. He'd already had you all to himself so many times this weekend, but he wanted one more. He stroked himself as he whispered your name, but you just snuggled in closer against him, working your lips along his skin. It just turned him on even more.

Sometimes he wondered what on earth happened to him that made him go from countless one night stands to a one woman kind of guy. Then you moaned his name, and your eyes fluttered open as you looked at him. Your pretty lips were parted, and your cheek had a soft imprint from cuddling against him. And you kissed him, replacing his hand on his cock with your own.

"Good morning," you whispered against his lips, and this was the reason why. You were all the reasons why.

"I need it," he whispered, and you settled on your back with your engorged breasts in your hands and let him have everything. He fucked you so slowly, barely moving as he drained your milk until you were comfortable. You combed his hair back from his forehead, in no hurry as he plucked at one nipple and then the other, nuzzling his way along your breasts. He rocked into you with steady pressure, making sure you could feel his body against your clit as he kissed you.

It was a slow build, and the two of you would most definitely be late for your check-out time. But he didn't care. Your fingers were laced with his against the pillow. His nose found the curve of your cheek and then your ear. He inhaled your sweetness and your warmth. He could feel it at the base of his spine, the way you were his. It was powerful. You were close, and he knew it. But he drew it out until your body was tense beneath him before going limp. You shook your head, making the most feral sounds, and when he looked down at you, it was almost too late.

"Oh, shit," he grunted, jerking his hips from your body, sending ribbons of his cum against your pussy and thighs and the bedding.

"Did you pull out in time?" you whispered, circling your pert nipples with your fingers and looking up at him through a lust-filled, post orgasm haze.

"Uh," he replied, gasping for breath as he parted your thighs and kissed your rooster tattoo. "Yeah." But he didn't sound convincing even to his own ears as he waited, looking for the telltale sign of a cream pie in your pretty pussy. He saw no evidence there and repeated himself with a bit more authority as he worked his thumb along your opening. "Yeah. I did."

You propped yourself up on your elbows and raised one eyebrow. "You don't sound so sure." Then you paused and chewed on your lip. "Did you pull out last night? Or when we were on the bathroom counter?"

"Yes," he promised, remembering how badly he didn't want to, but doing it anyway. But now your brow puckered in concern.

"Seriously, Bradley. Are you sure?"

He had offered to drive back to Coronado to get your pills. He'd been good about all of it until this moment, and he was afraid to remind you that he came inside you on the balcony as soon as you and he arrived at the hotel. "I'm doing the best I can here, Sweetheart. Okay? Have you ever tried to pull out of your delicious pussy? No. You haven't. It's hard, Baby Girl."

A smile found your lips as he knelt there between your thighs, red-faced and frustrated. "Oh, Roo."

He kissed your bent knee and climbed out of bed. "I'm sorry I like cumming in my wife," he murmured, starting to pack his stuff to head back home. He really didn't see what the big deal was about you being on the pill or not being on the pill anyway. What difference did it make in the long run?

You scrambled out of bed after him, kissing his scarred cheek as you said, "Thank you for pulling out. I'll get back on the pill as soon as we get home. It's the first thing I'm doing after we give kisses to Rosie."

He paused and smiled. "I missed the Nugget. A lot. Next trip we take will be the three of us."

"Agreed."

-----------------------------

"Did she get bigger since Thursday?" Bradley asked, completely scandalized when you and he ran inside after parking the Bronco in the driveway. "I think she grew!"

"I think you're right." You were on your knees next to the play mat where Rose was chewing on one of her crinkly toys and trying her hardest to roll over onto her back. Neither you nor Bradley greeted your parents before you were both cooing at how cute your daughter looked. Bradley ended up with his big body stretched out on the floor, pressing kisses to Rose's forehead as she looked at him.

"We missed you," he whispered, tickling her cheek. "Next time, we'll all go away together, okay?"

"He's such a good dad," your mom muttered behind you, giving her son-in-law heart eyes. "You picked a good one. Proud of you."

You wanted to roll your eyes at her, but you just smiled. "Thanks for staying with her so we could have a break."

"Your mom wants the house in Maryland up for sale by October at the latest," your dad said casually from the couch. "Less than three months away."

"Really?" you asked, glancing back and forth between the two of them now as Bradley rolled onto his back and placed Rose on his chest. "And you'll start looking for a house here pretty soon?"

Your parents shared a look. "Well... we may have already found one," your mom said slowly.

"Rose and I found it when I was pushing her in her stroller," your dad added.

"It's cute. Two streets over from the water," said your mom.

"You better not be joking," you whispered.

"I would never joke about being able to see my granddaughter every day," your mom promised.

"Well, maybe not every day," Bradley muttered, giving you side eyes while Rose reached for his mustache.

You nudged him with your foot and stood with tears in your eyes. "Keep us posted, okay?" you whispered, giving both your mom and dad a hug at the same time.

Once again, your parents were there to stay with Rose when you went to work on Monday morning. Going back to your regular routine in a few more days was going to be hard and exhausting when they were gone again.

"You really wore me out this weekend," Bradley muttered as he rolled his shoulders at a traffic light on the way to base. "I might need a night off."

"Thirty-eight years old seems rough, huh?" you asked between sips of your coffee. You also desperately needed a night off, but you'd never tell him that as he just grunted at you. Three days of nonstop sex and champagne had been lovely, but you wanted a solid nine hours in your bed tonight. And you knew you wouldn't get it any other night after your parents flew back east again and you had to get up to feed Rose alone. "You may have a night off, Roo. But I expect a foot rub."

"So fucking demaning," he muttered, leaning in to kiss your cheek before the light turned green. "You know you can ask me for that whenever you want it."

"I know," you whispered, still yawning as the guard towers came into view. "I hope to god Bickel doesn't pull some three hour long meeting or something today. I just don't have the patience for it."

"I'm kind of hoping to avoid Maverick altogether," Bradley replied, finding an empty spot in the parking garage. "He's always extra hyper after a holiday weekend."

When the two of you parted ways, you dumped your stuff in your office and grabbed your computer before heading to the lab. You just had a feeling something was going to happen, but your boss wasn't even in there when you arrived. In fact, it was just Cat sitting quietly at the counter, tapping away on her keyboard, entering code with a big, fat diamond engagement ring on her finger.

"Are you serious?" you gasped, nearly dropping your computer as you ditched it on the closest counter to make your way over to her. "Jake proposed?"

Her dark eyes seemed to be all mixed up with emotion, but a smile spread across her lips as she held her hand up for you to see. "Yes," she whispered. "Didn't I tell you the ring was massive?"

"Your sure fucking did," you replied examining the rock which was easily four times the size of Carole Bradshaw's ring on your own finger. "Holy shit."

You pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her up tight. "It's too much," she said. "I told him it's too big and that it could pay for college for Jeremiah, but he said he'd make sure that happened, too." When you released her from the hug and gaped at her, she whispered, "He wants to adopt Jer."

"Let him," you replied immediately. "Oh my god, Cat, he loves you both so much."

"I know," she said, pressing her lips together. "We're talking about the next steps that we want to take together." You watched as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "You're right. He'd be a good dad."

You sat and listened to her recount the way Jake proposed as the two of them tucked Jeremiah in bed in his room at Jake's place. He waited until the Independence Day fireworks were over and they were all alone to do it. She used the word perfect to describe it. 

Just before lunch, you couldn't wait another minute to talk to Jake yourself, so you jogged out through the hangar and across the tarmac to the tower. You were hoping to catch him as well as Bradley in the rec room, and you weren't far off. You could hear both of their voices before you turned the last corner. They must be out in the hallway. Then Bradley said your name with a laugh.

"Fuck you, man. She's going to want another ring if she learns the one you gave Cat is three carats."

You rolled your eyes at the teasing tone in his voice as he went on to congratulate Jake, but you stayed tucked out of sight when Jake asked, "What did Maverick want you for?"

Bradley groaned, keeping his voice low. "This new opportunity to train incoming pilots at Top Gun. Originally I thought the idea of fewer deployments was appealing, but Mav is all hyped up about me going to Fort Worth for a week or two. He wants me to hand pick some promising aviators to train at North Island starting in the fall. It's starting to sound like a lot more work."

"What's the problem?" Jake drawled. "You'll be home with your family more in the long run."

"Yeah, I know," Bradley said with a sigh. "But my in-laws want to move from Maryland to Coronado, and Maverick wants me to transition to this new role as quickly as possible. There's just so much shit going on, and you know how my wife gets. I don't want her stressing out. And... sometimes I just don't know what I want."

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him through the wall. He told you he was excited about all of these things. If he didn't want you to be stressed out, maybe he shouldn't make things difficult.

You ducked around the corner to find them both in their flight suits, and while Bradley looked surprised, he didn't look at all annoyed. "Hey, Sweetheart," he said with a smile, but you threw your arms around Jake instead.

"I heard congratulations are in order," you told him as his arms wrapped around your back. "A wedding and hopefully an adoption?"

He chuckled. "Thanks, Angel. Yeah, I better get both."

"I think you will," you whispered, pecking him on the cheek. As soon as you released him, Bradley pulled you in his direction. "Hi, Roo," you said quietly.

"Does this mean you didn't come all the way over here to see me?"

"I did not," you confirmed. "But since I'm here, you can have a kiss, too." The peck you gave your husband was on the lips, but that's all he got.

"There better be more where that came from," he muttered, cocking his head to the side.

"It's your night off, remember?" you asked, patting his abs. "We can talk about some things when you're rubbing my feet later?"

He nodded in the affirmative, but when the time came, he didn't say a word to you about Maverick or Fort Worth or his new position.

--------------------------

Well, let's just see where this goes. Thank you for reading! And thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 27

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[sinful-sonnet]

Stepdad!Joel x f!reader One-shot MDNI

W/C: 5.9k

Joel’s unwavering loyalty to your mom gnawed at you, stirring a restless ache in your chest.

How could he not see it? How could he not feel it— the way your body hummed with longing whenever you were near him?

Ever since you first laid eyes on him, you'd been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. It wasn't just his rugged good looks or the way his muscles flexed when he worked. It was the way he carried himself, with a quiet strength that made you feel safe, but also ignited something primal inside you.

And it wasn't like you were naive. You weren't some innocent girl pining for her first love. You'd given yourself to someone else once before, and while it had been clumsy and fleeting, it had taught you what it meant to crave another person.

But Joel? You just knew it would be different with him.

It wouldn't just be a physical act. It would be something deeper, something that would consume you whole. You could picture it so vividly-the way his calloused hands would feel against your skin, the way his lips would claim yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom like a guilty child while Joel played the part of the dutiful stepfather. The thought made your jaw tighten, the irritation bubbling up again.

You wanted him. You needed him. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, you knew he felt something too.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, smut, dirty talk, no use of y/n, unprotected piv, foul language lol, drugging and restraining, SA at first (not you), not proofread, let me know if I missed anything

The morning light filtered through your window as you sat on the edge of your bed, your heart pounding in anticipation. You could hear your mom moving around the house, getting ready to leave for work. Every sound—her footsteps, the clinking of her keys—seemed amplified as you waited.

Finally, you heard her call out, “I’m heading out! See you both later!”

“Take care,” Joel replied from the kitchen, his voice casual,

The front door shut with a soft click, and the silence that followed was deafening.

You took a steadying breath before making your move. Creeping into the kitchen earlier, you’d prepared the trap: a few crushed-up sleeping pills mixed into the coffee grounds Joel always used. You hadn’t felt guilty then, and you didn’t now. This was your chance to finally get him alone, without the constant weight of his self-control.

You padded into the kitchen, feigning nonchalance as Joel stood by the coffee machine, pouring water into the reservoir.

“Mornin’,” he greeted gruffly, not looking at you. His hair was slightly tousled, his shirt a little wrinkled, and you couldn’t help but notice how good he looked, even in his usual casual state.

“Morning,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “Did you sleep well?”

Joel shot you a glance, his expression guarded. “Fine.” He pressed the button on the machine, and the smell of brewing coffee began to fill the air.

You sat at the kitchen table, watching him as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. He was still avoiding your gaze, and the tension from last night hung heavy in the air.

When the coffee finished brewing, Joel poured himself a mug and took a sip, his brow furrowing slightly at the taste but not enough to comment.

You waited, the seconds to minutes ticking by as he sipped from the mug again. His shoulders began to relax, and a faint drowsiness crept into his expression.

“You okay, Joel?” you asked, tilting your head in mock concern.

“Yeah, just… tired, I guess,” he murmured, setting the mug down and rubbing a hand over his face.

You stood, stepping closer to him. “Maybe you should lie down,” you suggested softly, your voice taking on a coaxing tone.

Joel shook his head, but his movements were slower now, his body leaning against the counter for support. “I’m fine,” he insisted, though his voice was starting to slur.

“Joel,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re not fine. Come on, let me help you.”

His resistance wavered as the pills took full effect. You guided him toward the couch, his steps unsteady as he slumped down heavily. His eyelids drooped, and he fought to keep them open, looking at you with a mix of confusion and frustration.

“What… what did you do?” he mumbled, his words sluggish.

You knelt beside him, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Shh, Joel,” you whispered, your heart racing. “Just relax.”

His body grew heavier as sleep overtook him, leaving you alone with the storm of emotions swirling inside you. This was your moment, the one you’d been waiting for. But as you stared at him, vulnerable and trusting, a flicker of doubt crept into your mind.

The house was silent, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as you worked quickly and methodically. Your mom’s schedule was burned into your mind—a two-day trip out of town for a work meeting. You had the time, the space, and Joel, completely at your mercy.

It had taken effort to drag him from the couch to your room, but adrenaline coursing through your veins made the task easier than expected. His body was heavy and warm, his breathing slow and even as he remained unconscious from the pills.

Once you managed to get him onto your bed, you set to work. You’d found some sturdy rope in the garage, the kind your stepdad used for odd jobs around the house. You tied his wrists and ankles to the bedposts, pulling the knots tight to ensure he couldn’t slip free.

Joel’s head lolled to the side, his face relaxed in sleep. He looked peaceful, almost serene, a sharp contrast to the tension that usually etched his features. But even like this, his presence was overwhelming, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly as you brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, and for a brief second, you hesitated.

What if he woke up furious? What if this went too far?

But then you reminded yourself of all the times he’d looked at you like you were untouchable, like his loyalty to your mom was more important than the feelings simmering between you. You weren’t going to let him push you away again.

As if sensing your thoughts, Joel stirred slightly, his brows furrowing as his eyes fluttered open. He blinked groggily, his gaze unfocused as he tried to take in his surroundings.

“Wha… what the hell?” he slurred, his voice rough and disoriented. He tugged at his wrists, realization dawning as his movements were met with resistance. His dark eyes snapped to yours, a mix of confusion and anger flashing in them.

he growled, his voice still heavy with sleep but gaining strength. “What the fuck is this?”

You leaned closer, your face inches from his as you whispered, “This is your chance to stop pretending, Joel.”

He pulled against the ropes again, his muscles flexing, but the bindings held firm. “Untie me,” he demanded, his tone low and dangerous.

“Not until you admit the truth,” you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “Not until you stop lying to yourself about what we both know you feel.”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and something deeper—something raw and unspoken. “This is insane,” he spat, his voice rough. “You don’t know what you’re doin’.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” you said, a small smile playing on your lips as you leaned closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. “And so do you.”

Joel’s nostrils flared as he struggled against the ropes, testing their strength. He was strong—stronger than you’d expected—but your knots held. His glare cut through you like a blade, but it only fed the fire burning in your chest.

“You think this is the way to get what you want?” he said, his voice low and steady now, almost too calm. “You’re playin’ with fire.”

“Maybe,” you replied, tilting your head. “But I’m tired of pretending there’s nothing between us. You’ve been pushing me away for months, Joel. Every look, every touch… you can’t deny it anymore.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. For a moment, the only sound in the room was his breathing, heavy and deliberate. He closed his eyes briefly, as if willing himself to wake up from a bad dream.

“Let me go,” he said again, softer this time. “You don’t want to do this.”

“But I do.” You stood, pacing the room as you tried to steady your own nerves. “I’m not some kid, Joel. I see the way you look at me when you think no one’s watching. The way your voice changes when you say my name. It’s not just in my head.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through your confidence. “You don’t understand what you’re messing with. This… this isn’t a game.”

You stopped, turning to face him. “You’re right—it’s not a game. It’s real. And I’m not letting you walk away from it.”

Joel let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’re wrong,” he said. “About everything. I’ve done nothin’ but try to protect you—keep you safe from all this… this mess. You think I don’t care? You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then tell me,” you demanded, stepping closer again. “Show me. Stop hiding behind excuses.”

Joel’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, you thought you saw something crack—an emotion so raw it almost made you take a step back. But then it was gone, replaced by the stoic mask he always wore.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “One of us is gonna get burned.”

You knelt beside the bed, your hands resting on his, feeling the roughness of his calloused skin beneath your fingers. “I don’t care,” you said, your voice steady despite the tremble in your hands. “I’m not afraid of getting burned, Joel. Are you?”

For a moment, the room felt like it might implode from the tension, the air between you crackling with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Joel’s breathing slowed, his gaze locked onto yours, the fight in his eyes warring with something softer—something he refused to name.

“Untie me,” he said again, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Please.”

You hesitated, your resolve faltering. Could you trust him? Would he leave, or would he finally let his walls come down? The answer hung in the balance, and with it, everything you’d risked to bring him here.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling Joel carefully, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him. His body tensed beneath you, his muscles coiled like a spring, but he stayed still, his dark eyes fixed on yours.

“what are you doing” he asked, his voice a low growl

“I’m making you face this” you said softly, your hands brushing against his chest. You could feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your palms, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

His breathing hitched as you brought your lips dangerously close to his, but you didn't kiss him—not yet. Instead, you stayed there, hovering, letting the tension build between you.

His eyes flicked to your mouth and back, his resolve visibly wavering.

"This isn't right," he muttered, though his voice lacked the conviction it had earlier.

"Then tell me to stop," you challenged, your voice barely a whisper.

“Tell me you don't feel anything, and I'll untie you. I'll walk away, and we'll never speak of this again."

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his cheek, then his jawline, testing his boundaries.

His breath hitched again, and he turned his head slightly, his stubble grazing your skin.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with frustration and something else-something deeper.

You felt the tension in his body shift, his resistance giving way, even if just a little. The space between you seemed to shrink, the air around you electric.

"Joel," you whispered, your voice trembling now, but not with fear. "Say it. Just once."

He closed his eyes, his head falling back against the pillow as if the weight of the moment was too much to bear. When he opened them again, they burned with an intensity that made your heart skip a

beat.

You couldn’t help but let out a faint chuckle, which made Joel’s eyes go more intense

“You better untie me darlin’” he growled

You laughed again at his demand, slowly shaking your head as you scooched your way down his body so you were face to face with the bulge of his pants.

Joel was burning a hole through your skull with how intensely he was looking at you but that just made you enjoy this even more.

You slip your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare. Joel’s eyes widen, then clamp shut as he breathes in heavy.

“Shit” he whispers probably thinking I couldn’t hear him.

“Joel..look at me” you demand as you begin unbuckling his belt.

Joel struggles to keep his composure, trying to break free yet again from the restraints but it’s no use. His eyes flutter open in defeat as you pull down his pants along with his briefs. Your mouth is practically watering from the sight of his half hard cock resting on his stomach.

“Stop. Don’t do this” Joel mutters, pleads even.

But you can’t, you already got this far. The way his body is reacting your touch is telling you just how much he wants this as much as you.

Staring up at him I take his member into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks and slowly bob my head, lapping his length with my tongue. You moan when you feel his cock begin to harden in your mouth.

“Please..this aint’ right-“ he whines

You just smile in response, going faster with your movements, taking him into your mouth fully and he lets out a restraining groan.

Your hand trails up to the hem of his shirt, sliding underneath so you can rest your hand on his stomach while you pleasured him.

“Fuck stop” he gasps and you listen to him for once, slipping his cock out of your mouth with a distinct ‘pop’.

“Untie me” he snaps,

You stared at Joel for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. The tension in the room was palpable, the weight of everything that had happened hanging heavily between you. His command was firm, though laced with a sense of urgency, and for some reason—despite the force of everything inside you that had pushed you to this moment—you listened.

Maybe it was that part of you, the part you didn’t often let show, the part that still believed in boundaries and right and wrong. Or maybe it was the shock of what you’d both crossed into that made you hesitate, questioning everything that had led up to this point.

Slowly, you moved to his wrists, hands shaking slightly as you worked to untie the ropes. Each knot unraveled with a strange finality, the moment hanging in the air as you did what he asked. You didn’t meet his eyes, unsure of what you’d see if you did, but you felt the weight of the situation shifting.

When his hands were finally free, Joel flexed his wrists, rubbing them to get the blood flowing again. He didn’t immediately move, as if he was still processing what had just happened. His chest was still heaving, but the hard edge in his eyes was softened by something else—something raw and unspoken. You moved slowly to undo the restraints on his legs as well. Once free he got up from the bed and walked until he was facing you, studying your gaze for a moment.

“Joel I-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Joel's hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with surprising force.

His grip tightened as he pulled you back, pushing you onto the bed with a sudden, overwhelming strength.

Your back hit the mattress, the breath knocked from your lungs as you stared up at him in shock.

He was above you now, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark and intense. There was a quiet fury in his expression, a deep, simmering frustration that seemed to have taken control of him.

"Don't," he growled, his voice rough, but there was a tremor of something else in it-something uncertain.

"Don't you dare say you understand what this is. Don't even try to make sense of it."

You froze, feeling his body above you, the heat radiating off him. The weight of his presence was suffocating, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the tension, the undeniable pull between

you.

"Joel..." you started again, but your voice faltered, uncertainty creeping in as you saw the conflict in his eyes.

His jaw tightened, and for a second, it looked like he might pull away.

But then he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your face, his eyes

searching yours as if looking for

something. Maybe answers. Maybe something he couldn't name.

“You’re going to get it now darlin’” his voice was raspy

You barely had time to react before his lips crashed down onto yours, urgent and hungry. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, your body pressed against his in a way that left no room for hesitation, no room for second guessing.

The kiss was fierce and desperate— raw in a way that left you breathless. For a moment, you lost yourself in it, in the heat, in the feeling of his mouth on yours. His hands were frantically trying to take off your pants and soon discarding them to the floor.

Everything was happening so quickly you barely had enough time to process any of it, but then there he was positioning himself at your entrance, stopping at just the tip, eyes meeting yours in hesitation.

“You want this?” He asked firmly

“Y-Yes” I stuttered, and then without further a do he started pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size, your gasps and screams could probably be heard from outside

he continues to thrust into you, his voice low and rough as he whispers into your ear

"You like that, don't you? Couldn’t wait to feel my cock deep inside you..filling you up"

He begins to rub your clit with his thumb, his fingers expertly teasing and massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"That's it, darlin... you're so wet for me... so perfect..."

For a moment, you questioned whether you were still awake. The way Joel's body pressed against yours, his hips moving with urgency, it felt surreal. Everything seemed to blur-his hands, his touch, the sensation of his weight on top of you-as if the world was spinning around you, and the only thing that kept you grounded was him.

You forgot about the ropes. You forgot about the knots, the lines that had once held him captive. It didn't matter

anymore. It was as though the moment had erased every barrier you'd built up, every wall between you, leaving nothing but the rawness of what was happening

now.

“Fuck, Joel” you gasp out as you feel yourself getting close

He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his pace becoming even more frantic as he feels himself getting closer to his own release.

"Fuck... you're so tight... so close, ain’t ya”

He lets out a low growl as he spills himself inside you, his body shuddering with pleasure as he continues to thrust into you until he's completely spent. The feeling of his cock twitching and throbbing inside you sends you over the edge, hard.

He collapses on top of you, panting heavily as he tries to catch his breath.

You’re still coming down from your high when he reaches his hand to your face to caress it gently. “We can’t do this again” he whispers. All you do is nod.

You watched as Joel got up, put his clothes back on, his movements slow and deliberate, his face a mask of conflict as he made his way toward the door. The room felt empty all of a sudden, like a vacuum had formed where all the intensity had just been, leaving behind only a silence that was almost suffocating.

He glanced back at you one last time, and for a fleeting moment, you saw the same storm that had been brewing between you in his eyes. It wasn’t over—not when everything had shifted so drastically between you. His footsteps faded as he left your room, heading toward his own.

You stayed there for a moment, trying to calm the whirlwind inside you. The air still felt thick, the weight of everything hanging over you. You could hear the faint sound of his door closing softly in the distance, and the tension that had enveloped you both seemed to stretch out, suspended in the quiet of the house. Maybe this was the end.

But to no surprise the next time your mom went on a work trip, Joel was back in your room, consuming you like you were his last meal.

a/n: this was such a mess of a one shot I’m sorry lol. I had the idea but then lost it mid way through.

[avengers--assembly]

Fevered confessions

Summary: Y/n is sick and goes to Bucky’s room for some comfort

Sicktember prompts used:

1. I’m not hungover, I’m just sick”

Alts 2. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Word count: 1014

Warnings: none

●◇●◇●◇●◇●◇

Y/n stumbled down the hallway, leaning heavily against the wall in an attempt to catch her breath. Soft pants echoed around the hall as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying unsuccessfully to stop the pounding in her head.

Her muscles ached pathetically as she took another step forward, swaying slightly when she inched away from the wall. She raised her hand, missing the door by a few inches on her first try. She breathed out through her mouth in frustration, trying to focus her vision back into a single view. She touched the wood this time, knocking on the door. A voice floated towards her, meeting her in an embrace of comfort.

“Y/n?” Her name was gruff on Bucky’s lips, his voice coated in sleep. She tried smiling, opening her eyes again, the bright light digging into her vision as the rays of light shone from beneath his door. “Hi, Buck,” she murmured, aware of the ruffling of his sheets as he stood up. The door swung open to reveal his worried gaze. It swept over her, trying to locate a reason for her being there in the middle of the night.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He was worried. She hated herself in that moment for causing such emotions. He shouldn’t need to think about her. He had enough problems sleeping without her adding to his worries.

"Nothing’s wrong.” She grinned at him, a little lop-sided. Her words came out more slurred than she was hoping, and she could see the slight look of bewilderment on Bucky’s face as he gaped at her. “Are you drunk?”

"Am I drunk?” She repeated, voice edging to a whisper as her throat burned as she swallowed.

"That’s what I asked, isn’t it?” He didn’t seem irritated yet. The grin on her face grew. “’m not drunk... silly Bucky. Did I wake you up? Sorry. I didn’ mean to...” she continued, a frown filling her features now.

"It’s fine, I was awake anywa—” He trailed off, a hand going to touch her forehead. It was cold enough to make her shiver, and she didn’t seem otherwise fazed even as Bucky swore under his breath,

"Shit, you’re burning up.”

She nodded along. “I knowww,” she said in a sing-song tone. He pulled at her arm, mindful of her stumbling, before leading her to his bed. “How long? Y/n.” He tried to keep her focus on him as he watched her glazed eyes flicker over his room.

“Sorry for the mess,” he muttered, steering her until she flopped onto his mattress. She grinned up at the ceiling. “Um, maybe since today?”

"Maybe?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Definitely,” she hummed back.

“You take any medicine yet? I don’t like how high the fever is. You should have told me you were sick!”

“No medicine... and why?”

“Why? Why did you come to my room tonight? Because you know I would care!”

Y/n glanced at him as he raised his voice. “‘m sorry,” she mumbled, closing her eyes again, snuggling into the covers. She buried her face in his pillow heap. “Smells like you.”

“I mean... they are my pillows?” he replied, scratching his neck nervously. She only made a humming noise in reply. “You can’t come into my room and steal my bed, doll. You need to drink something for that fever. And water. Water is good.”

She waved him off, with a weak lift of her hand. “Stay here,” was his reply before disappearing out of the doorway in search of his mentioned objects.

****

When he finally returned, she was fast asleep, taking up most of the bed and blankets. He moved closer, shaking her shoulder. “Doll,” he said softly, ignoring her attempt to shoo him away, “you need to drink this.” He showed the pill and glass of water to her in his attempt to make her reasonable. “‘m sleeping.”

“You can sleep afterward.”

She was silent for a moment before she tried sitting up, her hands bracing against his arm as she sat up completely, making a gimme motion with her hands as she glanced at the water. He dropped the pill into her open palm and waited until she put it in her mouth before handing the water to swallow it with. Once she was done, the glass was empty, and on his table, she was again making herself comfortable.

He shifted awkwardly, taking a step backwards. “I’ll just, uh, leave you here, ok? I’ll take the couch.” He switched off the light again, bathing the room in darkness. Her face was cast in shadow as she complained.

"No,” she said, grabbing on the first thing she could get her hands on, a piece of loose fabric on his sweatpants. Bucky paused, even if he could easily move away from her grip. “stay with me. Pretty please?” She whispered.

“I don’t know, doll... are you sure?”

“Get in.”

“You want me to sleep with you? In the same bed?”

“Mmm.”

“I—uh.”

“Bucky,” she whined, and he finally caved, climbing under the covers next to her, sticking to his own side, stiff. She wasn’t going to settle for that and rolled closer, burying her face in his chest.

“Doll,” he warned, an arm wrapping around her waist anyway.

“I won’t get you sick, promise,” her voice was slightly muffled as she talked, her overly warm face obvious even through his shirt.

“That’s not something you can promise me... and not what I was worried about.”

“What then?”

“Making you uncomfortable. I’m not a good guy for you, doll. Not like this.”

“Shh. I love you, I could never be uncomfortable.” He froze slightly, swallowing heavily. “You don’t mean that, doll. Take it back. You don’t—” He trailed off. She was already gone, sleeping soundly.

Bucky smiled slowly as her soft breaths brushed against him. Her heartbeat, a comforting touch. Alive. Sleeping. He could enjoy this while it lasted. Her fever-addled brain couldn’t be trusted, but he would hold onto this moment, even if her horrified look in the morning would haunt him.

[corroded-hellfire]

Good Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with the amazing and wonderful @munson-blurbs 💚

Summary: When Eddie reminds you to take your antidepressants, little does he know that he’s stumbling onto one of your favorite kinks.

Note: This is a reminder to take your medicine if you haven’t today. Make Eddie proud.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), praise kink, corruption kink, allusion to daddy kink, prescribed use of antidepressants

Words: 2.7k

“You’re seriously trying to tell me that Steven Tyler is better than James Hetfield?” Eddie gawks at you with a disbelieving shake of his head, turning off your Aerosmith cassette in protest. 

“I didn’t say that; I said that he has a wider vocal range. Which is factual,” you retort, snapping the tape back in place and cranking up the volume. 

But Eddie’s not buying it; he paces around your room and mumbles under his breath dramatically. Spotting the bright orange bottle on your dresser, he snatches it up and shakes it. “I thought these things were supposed to make your brain work better,” he teases. “Are you sure you took them today?”

It’s meant as a lighthearted joke, but his smile falters when he sees your gaze drop from where he’s putting on his little one-man show. “You did take your bye-bye sad pills today, right?”

You roll your eyes and grab the bottle from his grasp. “They’re called antidepressants,” you grumble, making no effort to hide your annoyance, “and, no; I didn’t.”

“I think my name for them makes them a little more fun,” he says as he flops onto your bed. “But why didn’t you take them?”

There’s no sense hiding anything from Eddie; he’s been your best friend for far too long and can see right through you. “I’m tired of having to rely on medication to be less sad,” you admit. “It’s, well, it’s fucking depressing.” The irony isn’t lost on you.  

Eddie sighs and lifts himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You know, people need medicine in order for their blood pressure to remain stable. Them not wanting to take the meds isn’t going to do anything except have their blood pressure levels either plummet or go through the roof.”

Tilting your head at Eddie, you shoot him an unamused glare. “My blood pressure is fine.”

“Fine,” Eddie says as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Go tell Wayne to stop taking his blood pressure medication because he should rely on his heart the way it is. We’ll see what happens.”

The daggers you’re shooting at Eddie only get sharper because both of you know that you can’t come up with a retort for that. When you don’t soften, not even a bit, Eddie groans and drops his head back. 

“C’mon,” he whines. “Be a good girl and take your pills.”

All of the muscles in your body seem to lock as one at the term. Heat begins to crawl its way up your body and you can only pray that it doesn’t appear on your face. 

“W-What did you just say?”

“I said,” Eddie starts, as if being annoyed he has to repeat himself, “be a good girl and—oh. Christ, does that…?”

“Shut up,” you snap with far more venom than you intended. “Give me my meds and forget it, okay?”

Eddie’s looking at you like the cat who ate the canary. The smirk on his face is becoming more self-satisfied by the second. “Oh, absolutely not, sweetheart. I just found out that my best friend in the whole world has been hiding her secret kink from me.”

“I said, drop it.” You clench your fists in a feeble attempt to ward off the humiliation. “We’re not fucking, so it’s none of your business what any of my secret kinks are.”

“Kinks? As in more than one? Oh, do go on.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, but it fades when he sees your eyes welling up with the beginnings of tears. “Look, you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all have things that turn us on. Even pure, chaste, little ol’ me.”

Now that makes you laugh. “Okay, Mr. Celibacy over here…tell me one of yours. It’s only fair.”

“I think it would just have you clutching your pearls, Miss Good Girl.” He winces when you give his ankle a playful kick, but he obliges. “Fine, fine.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “I like the idea of corrupting a girl. Sweet thing getting ruined by a freak like me.”

“You don’t get enough of that shit talk from the meatheads at school?” Idiots like Jason Carver seem to have a never-ending list of insulting nicknames for him, with Freak being their go-to. 

Eddie shakes his head, frizzy brown curls brushing against his cheeks. “No, this is different. I don’t want to be called a freak. I just think the idea of a nice, innocent girl wanting me to corrupt her is hot.”

“Like…a good girl?” You’re trying to replicate his teasing tone from earlier, but it comes out more salacious. You bite your tongue, though the words have already escaped your lips. 

Eddie just chuckles, somehow oblivious to your gaffe. “All right, well played. Laugh it up so we can call it even.”

You unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a pill, washing it down with the water you keep next to your bed. “But, Eds, I took my medicine! See?” You stick out your tongue with an exaggerated aaahh. “Just like a good girl.”

Eddie’s eyes narrow; he’s not sure how to interpret the situation. To be honest, neither do you. “Don’t play this game with me,” he says, suddenly serious. “Because you get to forget all about this, while I’m stuck with blue balls for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

He nods. “Plenty of experience.” He rubs his sweaty palm along his denim-clad thigh, his eyes never leaving your body. 

“Lucky for you, good girls don’t let their best friend walk around with blue balls, do they?” This is it. It’s now or never. You walk over to the bed and straddle his waist, pressing your hands to his chest. His heart is beating a mile a minute. 

Any semblance of self-control is gone as Eddie hisses, “They certainly fuckin’ don’t.” His lips crash against yours in a hungrily, sloppy kiss. His palms are on either side of your face as he holds you impossibly close. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s grinding up against you, creating a delicious friction between your thighs.  

Eddie wraps a strong arm around your waist and lowers you down to the mattress. Lips never leaving yours, his hands slip up the inside of your shirt, his rough calloused fingers causing goosebumps to break out along your skin. When you’re forced to break apart for air, you take the opportunity to yank your shirt off over your head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Eddie copies your motions, so when he leans back in this time, your bra is the only material between your two chests. 

“So pretty,” Eddie mumbles as his kisses move down to your jaw. One of his hands comes up to cup your breast through your black cotton bra. “Such a good girl for me.”

His words have you whining and arching your back. It forces your chest even more into Eddie’s hand, which has him smirking as he runs his nose up to your ear. He places a soft kiss there before reaching down for the button of your jeans.

“You really do like it when I call you that, huh? Tell me, baby, did you ever think about me calling you that before? Lay here at night with your hand between your legs, picturing me calling you my good little girl?”

An almost pornographic moan slips from your lips as he speaks, and you’re barely able to concentrate on lifting your hips up enough for him to pull your jeans and panties off. 

“Wanna be your good girl,” you mumble, face heating up at the admission. “Just f’you.”

“Aww, how sweet,” Eddie coos, leaning to capture your lips in another soft, slow kiss. Your hands slide down his pale chest until they rest on the handcuff buckle belt that you’ve stared at so many times, always wondering what it would be like to take it off of him. 

“Pants off, Eds,” you say.

“Excuse me?” he says against your mouth. “What was that?”

A small whine tumbles from your lips before you squeak out, “Pants off, please, Eddie.”

“Much better,” Eddie says with a wicked grin. “That’s how good girls get what they want. Take your bra off, baby. I want to see all of you.”

Reaching behind your back to unhook the garment, your eyes never leave Eddie’s form as he strips himself of his jeans and boxers. All the times you’d imagined Eddie naked in your bed…they didn’t do the real thing justice. He’s long and wider than you expected, and even more mouthwatering than you could’ve hoped for. 

“Staring, huh?” Eddie says and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you even look up to see it confirmed on his face. “I’m flattered, sweetheart.”

“‘S bigger than I imagined,” you admit shyly. “Need—I mean, can you please use your fingers first?” 

Eddie nods, running his pointer and middle fingers through your wet folds before pushing them inside you. “Aw, y’already soaked for me, baby? Barely even touched you.” He continues fingering you as he nips at your earlobe. “Y’sure you’ll be able to take my cock, pretty girl?”

The nicknames have your head spinning. “Y-yes, sir,” you choke out, whimpering when he stops moving his thick digits. 

“Well, shit,” he says with a small chuckle. “Looks like you’ve unlocked a kink I didn’t even know I had.” He looks deep into your eyes as he orders, “call me ‘sir’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you manage, feeling his thumb making slow circles over your clit. “Anything f’you. I’m a good girl f’you, sir.”

Eddie growls as he slides down so his nose is level with your sex. “Not a good girl. You’re my good girl.” 

“Your good girl. Only yours, fuck!” You yelp loudly as he starts sucking on your swollen bud, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. Your legs tremble, which he takes as a sign to lap at your pussy with more vigor. “R-right there, sir. Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop, sir.” You sound pathetic, but it’s working for both of you. 

You feel the pressure mounting in your core as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming, holy fucking shit, I’m fucking cumming—” But just as the coil begins to snap, he pulls away from you, chin shiny with your slick. 

“What the fuck?”

“Ah ah,” Eddie chides. “Good girls wait so we can cum together.” He spits on his hard cock, fucking into his fist a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Y’okay?” he asks, pushing the tip in only after you give him a resounding yes. The feeling of him inside you is one of ecstasy, and you wrap your legs around his to pull him impossibly closer. No one has ever filled you the way he has; no one has ever stretched you so deliciously. 

“Eddie,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. His hands grip your hips as he buries himself within your walls. “I-I mean, sir, y’feel…fuck…feel s’good.”

“Me?” Eddie laughs incredulously as he continues thrusting into you. “No, baby. Nothing compares to how good you fuckin’ feel. Nice an’ tight, aren’t you, angel?”

The new nickname sends shivers of pleasure down your spine, and you bite your lip as you squeak out an agreement. 

“Tell me, my sweet girl,” Eddie growls, cock twitching within you, “what would your friends think if they knew the freak was balls deep in your pussy right now?”

You can only moan in response, and Eddie beams at your apparent wordlessness. 

“Fucked the words right out of you? Cute little head of yours can only think about my cock, hm?”

“Feels…feels…” You wrack your brain for any descriptors for the waves rippling through your body, but you come up empty-handed; rather, empty-headed. 

Eddie’s all-too amused by this, pistoning his hips as he beckons, “Come on; good girls use their words. How’s it feel, baby?”

“So good, Eds. Y’make me feel so good.” It’s barely two sentences, but it placates him. 

“Aw, you like the way my cock makes you feel?” A sneer crosses his face. “Like when the freak’s cock splits you open? How about when I do this?”

Before you can register his words, he’s bringing his thumb to your already overstimulated clit and rubs it while fucking you. “I know you like that, angel. Can feel you getting tighter around me. Fuck, anyone make you feel this good before?”

“N-No, just you,” you manage, another wanton moan escaping your lips. 

“Good girl, using her words f’me.” Your pussy clenches at the praise, spurring Eddie on further. “Just wanna wreck you. No one else can have you but me.”

“Only yours,” you slur in your cock drunk state. Every nerve in your body feels alive as Eddie pounds into you. Your eyes flutter closed so when Eddie leans down and flicks his tongue over one of your nipples, it surprises you. “Oh!”

“Can’t forget about these gorgeous tits, baby girl,” Eddie purrs. “They deserve some love as well.” He laves his tongue up and down the swell of your breast before sucking the nipple into his mouth. A new decibel of a whimper leaves your throat, and it has Eddie smirking around the hardened bud in his mouth. 

Your hand comes up and tangles in Eddie’s hair, fingers ever so lightly digging into his scalp as he gives your nipple a particularly harsh suck. He pulls off with a pop, hips still pounding into yours vigorously. The motion of your bodies causes your bed to shake and your headboard to bang repeatedly and obnoxiously against the wall. 

Eddie gives the same attention to your other breast, exploring the soft skin with his tongue and lips before ravishing your nipple. It only adds to the intense pressure that’s already built up in your core.

“Ed—Sir, please. I need—”

His teeth grazing your nipple has your sentence ending with a strangled gasp. 

“I know what you need, baby,” Eddie coos, leaning up to hover his face over yours. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Letting the freak use your tight little pussy. And you enjoyed it, didn’t you, sweet thing?”

“Yes,” you whine, practically a sob. “S-Sir?”

“What is it, princess?” Eddie asks, teeth clenched as he tries to stave off his impending orgasm. 

“Want you to cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he growls. It takes him a second to regain enough composure to be able to respond. “Yeah? That’s what my good girl wants? To have the freak’s cum deep inside of her? Want to feel it dripping out of you and down your legs? Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll fill you up nice and good.”

Eddie bucks his hips a few more times before he cums, fucking his spend up into you with primal groans. “Take it—fuck, take my cum. Jus’ like a good girl.” He doesn’t stop until he’s soft and panting, flopping onto your chest without daring to pull out. 

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths and relishing in the post-sex glow. A post-sex glow that you’re sharing with your best friend. Your best friend, Eddie Munson, just had his dick inside you while you called him ‘sir’ and he called you ‘good girl.’

“Um, Eddie?” you manage, and he lifts his head as he finally withdraws and lays down next to you. “What…what exactly did we just do?”

“Well, when two people love each other…” He starts to tease you, but his face blanches when he realizes what he’s just implied. “I mean, like, as friends…”

“Right. When two people really love each other as friends, they discover each other’s kinks and have mind-blowing sex.” 

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows. “Mind-blowing, huh? You know that flattery works with me.”

“‘M serious,” you say, trying to redirect the conversation back to your original thought. “Where do we go from here?”

He considers this, tongue poking out between his lips in contemplation. “I’m spent; you wore me out with your insatiable appetite for lust.” He chuckles as you flip him off. “So I say we take a nap, and when we wake up, we can see what other kinks we wanna explore.”

“What other kinks do you have?” You rest your head on his chest and snuggle in as he wraps a protective arm around you, kissing the top of your head. 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he taunts, yawning as he says it. “Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

[naoxm]

Wrote this at 2am cuz why not.

Laugh love live Damon Maitsu. I hc him the type who thinks 'only idiot get sick' and then process to get a fever. This could be platonic or romantic fanfic

Also where my request y'all 😔

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚ʚ♡ɞ

‎‧₊˚✧[Only idiots get sick, you know?]✧˚₊‧

"I'm not sick, please stop bothering me."

Damon groans in annoyance as you force him to go back to his dorm. Apparently he woke up with a fever this morning but didn't bother to rest and just got ready for class instead. If you weren't planning to walk to class with him today, he might have passed out in the middle of the class.

"You are sick, Damon. And you need to go to bed. You've been overworked for the past few weeks for the finals." You just rolled your eyes as you let go of him the moment you arrived and silently asked him for the key.

A small sigh can be heard from him as he placed a hand on his forehead. "I'm not sick, Y/N. What part of it you don't understand?"

"Literally anyone who walked past you earlier can tell you're clearly sick. Your face is clearly red right now. Plus the finals are still 2 weeks so you still have some time to take care of yourself."

"Only idiots get sick."

"You are that idiot then."

"But class-"

"You can borrow mine or anyone's note to study."

"My absence-"

"I already messaged the teacher telling you you won't be able to come today. At the same time I'm going to take care of you until I make sure you're taking a damn break instead of studying."

".....Fine. You win." Damon reached out to his pocket to get the key before unlocking the door. As soon as he entered, he immediately collapsed on his bed while taking a deep breath.

"Well if you excuse me...." You slowly entered the room while closing the door behind you. His room is quite....rather messy. But at least it's just a bunch of books and notes on the floor instead of clothes.

"Do you have any medicine here?" You asked, putting your bag down while walking towards the kitchen area.

"Yeah....should be in the cabinet..." He muttered out, wrapping himself around the blanket while closing his eyes shut.

You opened the cabinet and found some cold medicine. You took two pills and a water before walking towards his bed, giving him the medicine.

"Just sit up already and eat this."

He just sat up straight and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You are sure you are demanding today." He scoffed before taking the water in your hand and started eating the medicine.

You just ignored his sentence and took your wallet out of your bag. "I'm going to buy some food to eat. You better lay down on your bed instead of...whatever..." You gave him a glance before walking out straight of his rooms. Damon just remains silent as he puts the glass on the drawer nearby and just lays down on his bed, closing his eyes shut while slowly falling into a deep slumber.

"My body feels heavy....but I still need to practice for the upcoming debate...."

"It's cold."

"Maybe I'll just-"

"Hey, wake up."

Damon immediately opened his eyes when he heard a voice calling out to him. He looked up at you with a blank expression. How long had he fallen asleep? He could feel the wet towel on his forehead.

The two of you just remain silent until you finally speak: "You good? You look more terrible than before.... Wait, of course you're not."

He then sat up on his bed as he put the wet towel down, looking at you with tired eyes. "I'm fine, but aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Didn't I tell you before? I'm going to take care of you until I make sure you're fine." You smiled at him as you took the wet towel away and placed it in the small bucket. Then you hold a bowl of porridge before handing it out to him. "Here, eat this okay? Be careful, it's pretty hot."

Damon just looked up at you before slowly taking the bowl and placed it on his lap. He stares down at the porridge before finally speaking again, not looking up at you this time.

"Why do you care anyway?"

The question caught you off guard. You took some time to find the proper words to answer his question. "Because we're friends? To be honest, I don't really know. But I guess I really do care about you."

Damon seems to be....dissatisfied with your answer? His expression is really hard to read now due to his favor. A small sigh just escaped from his lips before taking the spoon. "Thanks for the food." He muttered out before eating the porridge.

"I'll be going, okay?" You smiled at him as you took your bag. Damon was just laying there on his bed, covering himself with the blanket while facing the wall right next to him. "Take a rest first okay? I already put the medicine and water at the drawer. There is also some extra porridge in the kitchen." You continue, not sure if he's asleep or just ignoring you.

".......Anyway, I'll let you borrow my note once you get better so you won't miss what we learned! Please don't overwork yourself again...." You sighed as you grabbed the door handle until he called out your name.

"...Thank you. I really appreciate it." He quietly muttered out in a rather weak tone. This is the first time you've seen him being so vulnerable right in front of you. You smiled as you replied with a 'You're welcome' before going back to class.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆*:･ﾟ✧

[fratboyharrys-gf]

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 | 𝐇.𝐒.

SUMMARY: YN has the flu and harry is determined to be there for her.

WORD COUNT: 751 || masterlist

WARNINGS: yn is sick, mentions throwing up, she takes painkillers

A/N: i wrote this in like 30 minutes 😭 i needed to get something out before my cousins visit because i won’t be able to post anything for a few days probably

i might make a pt 2 ! please reblog & comment <3 thank you sm!

join my taglist here!

YN rubbed her tired eyes and got up from her bed when she heard tapping on her bedroom window. she knew it was her best friend, harry.

they were on the phone when he noticed that she sounded off. he asked her what was wrong, and she brushed it off and told him that she just had a cough, but he didn’t believe her. he told her he was on his way, and before YN could stop him, he hung up.

YN unlocked her window and opened it, revealing harry standing in the tree that they used to climb all the time when they were younger, and the one that he still uses to this day to sneak into her room during times like this.

“you didn’t have to come.” she spoke weakly, stepping to the side so he could come in, “you’ll get sick.”

“i’ll be fine.” harry shrugged and closed the window, locking it as well.

“no you won’t. i feel horrible.” she laid back down in her bed and pinched her eyes shut as her head began pounding.

YN had been getting up and running to her bathroom at least once an hour to throw up, she’s been coughing nonstop, her nose is stuffy, and she just feels absolutely terrible.

“harry, i’m serious. i’ve been throwing up for hours. you don’t want to risk getting whatever i have.”

“YN,” he began, his tone stern as he sat next to her on the bed, his feet hanging off the side while he took his shoes off. “i’m not leaving. if i get sick, which i probably won’t, i’ll be okay. i want to be here with you right now. i know you’d do the same if it were me. so stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.”

she sighed and stayed silent, not having the energy to fight him on this much longer, until she heard the sound of a medicine bottle opening. she cracked an eye open, and saw harry pouring two pills into his hand.

“you got me medicine?”

“mhm.” he handed her the pills and opened a water bottle for her.

YN took the pills from him, popped them into her mouth, and downed the water. “thank you.” she muttered, her voice weak.

harry sat next to her on the bed, his eyes fixed on her. “you look awful,” he said, his tone both concerned and teasing.

“i feel awful.” she replied.

harry chuckled softly and brushed some of her hair away from her forehead. “you have always been a terrible liar, you know that, right?” he teased, referring to when she told him that she only had a cough.

YN grumbled in response, not having the strength to come up with a comeback. she could feel the medicine starting to kick in, her headache beginning to subside.

harry scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side.

she leaned into him, appreciating the comfort his presence brought.

“you didn’t have to come.” she mumbled, knowing there was no point in arguing anymore.

“you already said that.” he said quietly, his fingers tracing light patterns on her arm.

YN closed her eyes, feeling exhaustion take over her body as the medicine continued to relieve her headache.

“you should sleep,” harry told her, his grip on her shoulder tightening slightly.

“mhm,” she hummed in agreement, her eyelids feeling heavier with each passing second.

harry pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin for a few moments. “get some rest,” he whispered, his fingers combing through her hair.

YN mumbled something incoherent in response, already beginning to doze off.

harry smiled to himself, watching as she drifted further into sleep. he shifted his position, settling back further against her headboard as he got comfortable.

he sat silently next to her and stared at the ceiling, listening to her soft breathing as she slept. he could feel her warm body pressed up against him, the rise and fall of her chest, the faintest movement of her fingers on his leg. all of these things reminded him how much he cared for her. how much he loved her.

harry looked back down at YN, still asleep. he leaned down and placed another soft kiss on her forehead, savoring the feeling of her skin against his lips. he then positioned himself more comfortably, closed his eyes, and began to drift off to sleep himself.

taglist: @nikkimartinez23 @elliedafish @meadowwitchpinklight @howling-wolf97 @carolinaastyles @carolinaskiiwi @tianajames17 @illicitverstappen @cassofheartsss @fangirl509east

[mixsethaddams]

Steve was having a really bad day.

He forgot to pass on a message to a co-worker which, ok, wasn’t the end of the world exactly, but it made his insides squirm.

He forgot to write a list for his boss which, again, nothing that couldn’t be rectified, but it made his palms itch.

A customer yelled at him over something out of his control and he had to stand there and take it because what is retail if not the first circle of hell.

Steve sat in the break room and wished his coffee was hotter while he ran his hands through his hair.

“It’s just one of those days,” he told himself over and over. “It’ll be over soon,”

He wasn’t working the next day so he was counting down the very seconds until he could dart out the front door and not have to come back for a whole forty hours.

Things didn’t improve after he swallowed his lukewarm coffee and went back to his duties. Everything he said seemed to land wrong. Everything he did seemed to need redoing. It felt like his co-workers were annoyed with him even though he knew that realistically they had no reason to be. Steve’s jaw was sore from clenching it shut, trying not to burst into tears right there in the store and hold it together at least until he got to his car.

Even staying an extra fifteen minutes after he should have left to help someone finish a task they were struggling ended up being the wrong thing to do. Why did he stay? Had he clocked out? He should have. Did he not know that overtime needed to be approved a day in advance?

Steve let the feeling of the latest failure of the day wash over him as he grabbed his things and left after his shift.

Eddie wasn’t even going to be home when he got back. He was running a campaign for his D&D group which was being hosted in Gareth’s place a full fucking two hour’s drive away. Eddie was just going to be staying the night there and coming back tomorrow, instead of driving home when they finished. It made sense. It was going to be a ten-hour session and they didn’t even start until almost noon. It was just something that happened every other week and Steve usually enjoyed having a few hours to himself but today he would have killed to have his boyfriend waiting for him.

Steve’s lip wobbled while he drove. His eyes were misty and he was blinking rapidly to keep them clear. He was determined to get home before fully breaking down. He just wanted to order dinner, wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, and watch the latest episode of Married At First Sight. When he finally got back to their apartment, his phone pinged with a text from Eddie.

“Hope work was ok! I’ll call you before I go to sleep later? We’ve got about four hours left”

Steve sighed at the screen. Eddie always called him to say goodnight when he stayed at Gareth’s. Usually Steve loved it because Eddie would be a little bit drunk after having some post-session beers with his friend and they’d giggle together on a video call until Eddie’s eyelids drooped. Tonight though Steve wasn’t sure he could handle the reminder that he was alone when he wanted so badly to be held.

“Long day. Probably just crash soon as I’m home”

“You good?”

“Just tired. Hope you’re having fun :) “

Steve regretted the food he ordered for dinner. He wanted the orange chicken but for some reason he ordered sweet and sour pork. It wasn’t bad, it was fine, but the chicken was his favourite and it almost felt like a form of punishment for his bad day. So now Steve was crying uncontrollably over a container of rice. He felt so stupid but it was just one more thing that had gone wrong for him today. Crying at this point didn’t even feel cathartic. It just gave him a headache and made his throat dry.

He didn’t finish his food, and he didn’t watch TV. Steve dragged himself to his bedroom, leaving his clothes in a pile in front of the dresser he grabbed his sweatpants from, before he took a pill for his headache and fell, unshowered, into bed. It was still bright outside.

Steve felt the bed dip next to him. For the briefest moment a kind of raw panic gripped his chest and he was too scared to open his eyes. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar brush of fingertips over his temple, sweeping strands of hair out of his face, that he calmed down.

“Stevie?”

Eddie whispered it softly and Steve opened his eyes. The room was dark, but there was a navy blue hue, like the sun was only barely below the horizon, that meant Steve could still see Eddie’s outline.

“What time is it?” mumbled Steve.

“Almost nine,” said Eddie gently, still rubbing his hand through Steve’s hair.

Steve scrunched his nose. Nine? That wasn’t right? It wasn’t bright enough to be morning. He peered up at his alarm clock, still flashing the same date it had been when he closed his eyes before fitful sleep.

Steve sat up quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, panicked again. “Why are you here, what happened?”

Steve knew Eddie’s D&D sessions never cut short for anything less than a national emergency so he was instantly on high alert. Eddie driving all the way home was even more concerning. Steve gripped Eddie’s arms, he was still wearing his leather jacket. It was cold from being outside. He lifted the edges of the jacket as if he was checking to make sure Eddie was all in one piece.

“Nothing happened,” soothed Eddie. “We just finished up early,”

Steve was still looking over Eddie’s body like he was expecting to find a missing limb or something.

“What?” asked Steve, confused. “Why?”

Eddie shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling the vibe,” he said easily. “I plugged the plug and said I needed to get home,”

“You never finish early,” said Steve. “And you never drive home. What happened?”

Eddie sighed.

“Why don’t you tell me?” asked Eddie gently, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

Steve gulped.

“I don’t…” stuttered Steve. “Nothing, what do you mean?”

“Baby,” said Eddie firmly.

Steve chewed his lip to stop it trembling.

“I just had a bad day,” said Steve quietly. “You didn’t need… You could have stayed out there,”

Eddie gently pulled Steve forward, so he could rest his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Steve breathed in the well-known smell of cologne and cigarettes smoked outside. He practically melted into it.

“Thought this might be where I was needed more,” murmured Eddie, twisting around on the edge of the bed to allow Steve to relax more comfortably into his hiding place. “Looks like I was right, hmm?”

“Ruined your game though,” said Steve, muffled against the leather of Eddie’s jacket. “I just had a bad day,”

“It’s not ruined,” assured Eddie as Steve’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Knowing I left you here by yourself after a bad day is what would have ruined it,”

“I didn’t even say anything,” sighed Steve. Eddie was running a comforting hand over his back.

“You didn’t need to,” said Eddie. “Soon as you didn’t ask for a more solid time to expect me to call you, that’s when I knew,”

Steve sniffed back a tear.

“So dumb…” said Steve, frustrated almost more than ever with himself now. “I’m sorry, this is so fucking dumb,”

Eddie shushed him gently.

“No it’s not,” said Eddie, nuzzling into Steve’s hair. “Sometimes things creep up on you like this. It happens,”

“I wish it didn’t,” admitted Steve, pulling back to look at Eddie.

Eddie rested their foreheads together.

“I’m always here for when it does, though,” said Eddie softly.

Steve closed his eyes and let Eddie take him into another embrace, holding him tight for what could have been seconds or hours.

Steve didn’t remember when Eddie finally slipped his jacket off. He didn’t remember feeling him sliding into bed next to him, gathering him up and holding him as close as he could. Steve just remembered the feeling of Eddie heartbeat against his own chest, the sound of his breathing, his fingertips scratching gently against Steve’s scalp.

All Steve knew was feeling safe. Protected. Like one bad day was no longer drowning him because now, he remembered how to keep his head above water.

[thetreefairy]

Platonic Aizawa and Present mic where they reader looks like they’re about to having a mental breakdown any second and she doesn’t take her medication. (I just cheek my medication or just don’t take them)

Warnings: mental breakdowns, reader hates meds (like me), forced medicine intake, talks of punishments since she/her pronouns are used in the ask, those will be used. KO-FI

Reader hates her meds, everyone knew it, it was quite obvious. Often their friends in 1-a had to beg them to take her medication. And Reader took her medication so that they wouldn’t tell Aizawa or his partner Hizashi.

Only this time, Hizashi and Aizawa noticed themselves. 

“Reader is scared, she had been targeted by Dabi herself, so maybe she simply didn’t notice the way she was acting.” Hizashi told Aizawa, trying to defuse the situation. Aizawa always had the worst yandere tendencies of the two. “Iida told me she didn’t take her meds 5 times this week.” Aizawa hissed at Hizashi. “I am simply going to check if she took them.”

“Reader.” Aizawa tapped Reader’s shoulder, they were in the library. “Aizawa-sensei?” Reader mumbled out. “What is wrong, is there a new mission?”

Aizawa shook his head. “No, did you take your medication?”

Reader chuckled nervously; “So that’s what you want..”

“Did you take them?” Aizawa pressed, Reader shook her head. “They make me feel slow, I need to be on guard right now.”

This was an obvious lie.

“You are completely safe in U.A, and if I remember correctly you have no home visits.” Aizawa stated. “So that excuse is bullshit, follow me.”

“But, I still have to study sensei.”

“You can study later.” Aizawa hissed. “Don’t make me drag you.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll follow you.” Reader mumbled. Aizawa asked Hizashi to follow them as well. “What is this an intervention?” Reader joked when they arrived in the teacher lounge, the place she was usually brought to when she was going to get scolded. She then saw Hizashi pull her meds out.

“You are going to be taking your meds in front of us now.” Hizashi told her gently. “And if you don’t we will have to punish you.” Aizawa interrupted. Reader’s eyes widened; “Excuse me? You guys aren’t my parents!”

“We might as well be.” Hizashi mumbled, and Aizawa nodded in agreement. “Your parents are doing a shit job, letting you skip your medication so much.”

“Hizashi-sensei! How dare you talk about my parents like that!” Reader stood up angrily, and made the movement to walk away. Aizawa grabbed the pill out of his partner’s hand and showed it to Reader. “You better sit down, take your fucking pill and listen to us.”

“Fuck off.” Reader hissed, still angry at how they insulted their parents. Reader started to walk away only to be stopped by Aizawa's capture weapon. Hizashi moved to hold Reader down, cooing at them. “I am not mad at you, don’t worry.” He said as he saw Reader doing their best to get out of his arms. “I will forgive you for swearing at us if you take your meds.”

Reader shook her head, she didn’t want to take her medication. Especially around them, they seemed weirder than usual. And her medication makes her quirk weaker.

Hizashi tried to convince Reader to take it, and when Aizawa finally had enough he opened their mouth and put the pills in her mouth.

Before she could spit them out, he shut her mouth with his hand and closed her nose, forcing her to swallow the pills.

“Assholes.” Reader breathed out when she could speak again. “Now that is no way to speak to us.” Hizashi scolded Reader. “Maybe we should show the police the shit your parents have been pulling then we really will be your parents.”

[creative-kny-fics]

Hello! I hope you're well! If requests are open I would like to request one, a Lee! Giyuu, Ler! Kanzaburo but as a human, I had read before that blood techniques can affect crows too and I was wondering if you could do a similar theme.

Please and thank you! =]

It sounds strange, it's not common, it can be harmful, it's a joke... Of course!

Lee: Giyuu Tomioka

Ler: Kanzaburo

Giyuu was panicking, he couldn't allow what had just happened...

Kanzaburo was injured, well, he didn't really know, the only thing he managed to say through tears was that Kanzaburo had been attacked by a BDA and that he needed urgent help.

'Tomioka-San, are you awake? Hey!Yoohoo~? Tomioka-San~?'

'H-huh...? Kocho...? Why am I... Wait a second... KOCHO, HOW IS KANZABURO?! HE IS ALRIGHT?! DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO YOU?! THIS IS MY FAULT, I SHOULDN'T SHOULD... OW!!'

'Number one, don't shout, we're in a hospital and there are patients injured and resting. Number two, if you say it's your fault again, I'll hit you again. Number three, I had to put you to sleep because you started panicking and almost broke the door in your moment of frustration. Number four, calm down, Kanzaburo is fine, but... Eeeem... There is a problem... It's not bad, but it affected...', Giyuu's eyes filled with tears and he began to sob.

Shinobu calmed him down, caressing his cheek and pinching it as she scolded him to calm down because she didn't want to anesthetize him again, letting him go and crossing her arms until Giyuu finally calmed down.

Shinobu took him to the room where she had treated Kanzaburo, but the surprise was undoubtedly comforting, but at the same time, confusing...

'Shinobu, I think we're in the wrong room... That's not Kanzaburo... That's an old man...'

'No, Giyuu, that old person, it's Kanzaburo. Apparently, the BDA was able to turn Kanzaburo into a human and given his advanced age, he became that person you see in front. Come closer, he'll surely recognize you...'

Giyuu gulped and approached slowly, Kanzaburo seemed to be asleep, he didn't want to wake him up, especially if he had that human appearance, he got close enough and analyzed him from head to toe, it really was him?

He was going to bring his hand closer to make sure he was asleep, but when he was close to his cheek, Kanzaburo rubbed his cheek with Giyuu's hand, and that cleared Giyuu of all his doubts, it truly was Kanzaburo.

'How long will it be like this?' 'I don't know, I doubt it will be for long. If the demon was killed, I don't think the effects will last more than 24 hours, don't worry Giyuu, you'll have your cute crow with you soon~'

'And... Is he in a position to take him home? I'm afraid that something will happen along the way and... You know... Kanzaburo...', Shinobu approached and knelt down to check.

She advised Giyuu that they could stay in that place while the effects wore off, also so that Giyuu would be close to professional help in case Kanzaburo had problems or if the BDA began to disappear.

Giyuu was still intrigued...

Would Kanzaburo be okay? Would there be any effect? Would you speak normally? Perhaps, he would need some medicines or pills for him? Everything was so confusing in the hashira's head. 'Kanzaburo, are you feeling okay?'

'Giyuu... Well...' 'Maybe, it's best if you don't talk, okay? I won't ask you questions, or anything like that', Kanzaburo had no choice, because as soon as he opened his mouth to say a few words, Giyuu shut him up.

It was not surprising that Giyuu felt enormous affection for his crow, so he was too worried, he did not know what to do, he had not taken care of an elderly person before.

Urokodaki didn't count, he could take care of himself, despite his advanced age, so the occasions when he "took care" of him were rare.

'Kanzaburo, does something hurt? Remember, just shake your head or nod'

It was already the 5th time in 30 minutes that Giyuu asked him the same thing, honestly, Kanzaburo loved how Giyuu took care of him, but now he was overprotective of him.

Giyuu didn't look away from him for a long time, but this activity exhausted him and he began to nod his head and squint sometimes.

'Giyuu...' 'I'm fine, don't talk, something could happen', oh come on, with that again?

Kanzaburo was a crow, but he knew that Giyuu was stubborn at times, especially when it came to sacrificing himself for the good of others.

From his perspective, Giyuu was more of a child trapped in the body of an adult and needed extreme care, so he did not hesitate to take him by the shoulders and lay his head on his lap. 'Kanzaburo, what are you...?'

'Time to rest... Go to sleep...'

'I'm not sleepy, and, you shouldn't be moving. Now, let me... Eeeeeeh!', it's about time.

Giyuu immediately covered his mouth, he recognized that sound wherever he went.

He glanced at Kanzaburo and mentally implored him not to do what he was sure he would do, one thing was tickling him in his own house and another was tickling him in a public place, although well, we all know that his fellow hashiras didn't care and they had already done it, but that was not the case.

'Ka-Kanzab-buro! Sto-! Ehehehe! STOP!'

'Sleep, now'

'I'm no-nohohot ti-ti-tired no-nOHOR sleheheepy! This... Thi-thihihis is rid-ridiculohohous!'

Kanzaburo shook his head and took both of Giyuu's wrists and put them on his head, he had already seen some hashiras do this when they were trying to cheer up Giyuu or when they just wanted to tickle him.

He couldn't help but smile a little when his owner's face turned red and he looked away and closed his eyes to try to dispel his embarrassment, but he couldn't, that little "opportunity" was taken.

'Co-cohohomehehe ahahahaha on!! Oh re-reahahally?! Yohohou tohohoho?! Sto-stohohohop!!'

'Will you sleep?' 'I sa-hahahaid nohohohoho!!', well, there's your answer

Giyuu tried to lower his arms, there was no chance that someone of advanced age would manage to keep his arms up for that long, was there?

Perhaps, Giyuu had a soft spot for Kanzaburo and was unable to put the strength to lower his arms, afraid of hurting him. 'Okay, okahahahay!! I-I'll sle-slehehehep!! Ahahaha!!'

'Sure?' 'Yehehehes!! Plehehahasehe!! I gihivehehe up!!'

Not really, but who was he not to please his crow? Although Kanzaburo hesitated, he didn't question Giyuu's word and stopped, but he couldn't help but continue tickling him a few times on his neck and a few more on his armpits.

'I t-tohohold yo-you I'll sleheheheep!! Ple-please!! Stohohop ticklihihing meeee!!'

'You didn't like them?' 'Yehehehes, bu-buhuhut...! Ooooh dahahahamn!!! Ahahahaha!!'

Kanzaburo is not going to stop so soon, do you know why? Because it usually doesn't have that effect on Giyuu when he's a crow, so he would take advantage of spending "quality time" with his owner...

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning Out • IV

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 4.4k

General Fanfic Warnings: 18+, explicit language, smut, alcohol, drugs, violence, mentions murder/suicide, panic attacks/anxiety, nightmares

Authors note: Chapter Four- Show my Thorns (EDITED: 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

My own words stung as they reminded me of my past felonies, but I supposed she truly was my favourite victim. If it wasn't too messed up to say something like that.

"Will I see you for your usual coffee?" She asked, hope seeping through her eyes. How could she want to see me again?

"Yeah," I replied with a forced laugh, lying through each breath. "See you then."

I stepped out of the car and turned to wave before opening the door to the motel room. My heart ached as Y/N drove away.

Goodbye.

Tell me that I'm wrong Tell me that I'm wrong

+++++

NOAH

As soon as I stepped inside, Ruffilo pulled me into a tight hug that almost crushed my bones.

"I was so worried, bro," he exclaimed, his worry now replaced with relief.

"Who was in the car?" Folio asked, peering out the window before quickly shutting the curtain.

"It's a long story," I groaned, collapsing onto the cot once more.

"I don't care about the story," Jolly interjected angrily. "What did you manage to steal?"

"Nothing," I admitted, cowering under their disappointed stares.

"You were gone for that long and came back empty-handed?" Folio said, his disappointment palpable.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Jolly laughed. "I thought you were over your little episode from earlier."

I sat up and looked at each of them in turn. "Trust me, I had a great haul. Until I got caught."

"You didn't," Ruffilo deadpanned.

"It's fine, she won't say anything," I reassured them, taking off my shoes.

"What? So now you trust some random girl who caught you breaking into her house? How desperate are you?" Jolly growled. "We're screwed."

"She drove you home too? Now she knows where we live? You idiot!" Folio yelled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"What was in the haul?" Ruffilo asked curiously.

Sighing heavily, I mumbled into my hands, "Almost full bottles of Diazepam, Adderall, Zolpidem, and Dextromethorphan."

All three of them groaned in frustration.

"Dude, that's worth thousands of dollars!" Folio exclaimed. "You should go back and get it if you're all buddy-buddy with her now."

My glare could have killed me as I shot daggers at the youngest member of our group. "Fuck off. It's not going to happen."

"No, Nick has a point," Jolly chimed in. "That's a good haul. We could use the extra money right now."

"I said," I growled through gritted teeth, "It's not going to happen."

I stormed off towards the bathroom door and slammed it shut behind me. Leaning against the door, I let out a frustrated groan and ran my hands through my hair. My mind was conflicted and confused, unable to believe that this day was even real.

I turned the shower on, and stripped off my clothes, letting the water wash away my sins.

I can't forgive you, but I can't look away I walked through fire I was born in the flames

+++++

Y/N

As I climbed the stairs to my house, Juice followed close behind. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips as I tried to make sense of the events of the day. My confusion only increased when I saw a backpack sitting in front of my bedroom door, its contents shifting with each step I took. I couldn't resist the urge to investigate and opened the bag, revealing all of my prescription pill bottles inside. My heart raced as I stared at them, unsure if they had been intentionally left there or if he had planned to sell them for money. But with only four hours until I had to be at work, I pushed those thoughts aside and prioritized sleep over worrying about it.

+++++

As I worked that morning my mind was consumed with the events of last night, replaying over and over again in my head like a broken record. Was it lack of sleep, anxiety, or the intoxicating presence of Noah that kept me on edge? Annika noticed my restlessness and questioned me, but I brushed her concerns off with a forced smile and a lie about being tired.

Despite my rational thoughts telling me otherwise, my heart yearned for Noah. There was something about him that drew me in, despite his criminal lifestyle. He was unlike anyone I had ever met before.

Throughout the day, I found myself constantly glancing at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of him walking in. But he never did.

It wasn't until half an hour before closing time that the familiar ding of the doorbell sounded, causing my heart to leap in anticipation. I turned around, hoping to see Noah's long hair and captivating silver eyes, but instead was greeted by another man with long locks and tattoos covering his arms. His onyx hair and striking silver eyes held a similar intensity to Noah's, but there was something different about him.

My thoughts immediately went back to Noah as this new man ordered the same coffee as him - one cream and one sugar. As he handed me the change, I couldn't help but notice the intricate tattoos adorning his knuckles. My hands trembled slightly as I handed him his cup, taking in the words etched above each finger: "Bad Omen" spelled out above a crescent moon design.

We locked eyes for a moment, a sense of understanding passing between us as I handed him his drink. Despite his similarities to Noah, this man seemed completely different - yet my mind kept going back to those piercing October eyes.

Can one of us be saved? Better in a grave

+++++

NOAH

"Does she know about the tattoo?" Nicholas asked as he handed me a cup of coffee. I adjusted my sunglasses while taking a sip, the warm liquid soothing my throat as I thought of her again. I had told her the truth when she asked, but now I regretted it. It would have been better if we had just gone our separate ways.

After my shower, I filled Ruffilo in on everything that had happened with Y/N. He always understood me and listened to me best, even though he was surprised by how things turned out.

"She seemed so hopeful when she turned around," Ruffilo said, shoving his hands into his jean pockets as we walked back to the motel. "I think she wanted me to be you."

"I don't understand why," I said.

"Because you're not a bad person. She can see through whatever walls you've put up. You two were interested in each other before last night because you went out," Nicholas sighed. "And the fact that she still seems interested after everything means two things -"

I gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to continue.

"- Either she's crazy, or she sees past your past because she gets it," Nicholas reassured me. And he was right. Y/N could understand certain aspects because she had just escaped from her own cage; but was I ready to risk everything to see her again? Was there a chance that she could forgive me?

Ruffilo glanced at his watch, "We need to hurry back. Jolly and Folio will be here in ten minutes to pick us up and we still need to meet with D to drop off the load."

I nodded, picking up the pace and taking another sip of my coffee. "Hopefully they made enough money to make up for yesterday's loss."

Nicholas patted my shoulder, "Don't beat yourself up too much brother. You almost got caught and managed to evade it."

"I did get caught, just not by the law," I corrected him.

"Okay, but you were caught by a beautiful woman instead. I'd say that's a win-win."

I playfully pushed his shoulder, brushing off his comment; but he was right. Y/N was gorgeous.

We reached the motel and saw Jolly and Folio loading bags of cash into the car.

"Did we make a good haul?" Ruffilo asked as he lit a cigarette. We walked over to them and I eyed the bags; there seemed to be an excessive amount of money.

Folio nodded, "We made enough to cover last night's loss and then some. Looks like we'll be dining well tonight!" He clapped his hands together before tapping them on the hood of the car, exuding excitement.

I questioned with caution, “How did you manage to get all of this in just a couple of hours?” Jolly lit a cigarette and jumped into the front seat. We followed suit, but I rolled down the window to avoid the smoke from filling the car. I could handle smoking joints, but cigarettes burned my throat.

Jolly explained, “We robbed a convenience store off of 9th Ave. It was the quickest way to get the cash we needed.”

Skeptical, I narrowed my eyes and watched him through the rearview mirror, “Aren’t you the one who always says we should avoid businesses because it’s too risky?”

Jolly scoffed, “Yeah, but I do it well. So I don’t mind taking that risk, especially since we were thousands behind.”

I muttered, “Whatever,” and looked out the window. The meeting with D today was crucial; it would determine if we could finally get out of this mess.

The ride was silent until we arrived at the abandoned warehouse by the pier. Dread washed over me as our car was surrounded by men in black masks, guns hanging from their arms.

“Out with your hands up,” a masked guard commanded from outside the car in a muffled voice.

We complied, used to this standard procedure.

D’s familiar booming voice echoed from down the pier, sending shivers down my spine as his shadow approached us under the moonlight. His silver blonde hair glinted in the moonlight as he towered over us, taunting us like prey.

“What have you brought me this month?” he asked eagerly.

“We have about thirteen thousand,” Jolly reported as the guards searched our car and opened up the duffle bags.

D’s eyes flicked between us sharply and scanned the crowd as if looking for any discrepancies. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“I recall agreeing upon fifteen thousand this month,” he remarked.

Jolly almost lunged at him, but he kept his composure and clenched his fists, “No, we agreed on twelve. And you should consider yourself lucky we even managed to get the extra thousand instead of keeping it for ourselves.”

D chuckled darkly, his teeth twisting into an evil grin, “Oh, I’m lucky, am I?”

He walked closer, arms crossed behind his back in a display of power, “I would say you should be lucky that I’m willing to let you get away with this, for a price.”

“We did what you asked,” Jolly growled, “We shook on twelve.”

D smiled smugly and raised a questioning brow, “Yet you brought thirteen.”

Jolly remained silent and the rest of us watched as D strutted between our bodies like a predator encasing its prey in its trap once again.

“I expect twenty thousand next month. Clearly, you are capable of bringing in more,” he stated firmly.

My eyes widened in shock and I turned to the boys for confirmation.

“Twenty?” I exclaimed incredulously, my eyebrows shooting up in disbelief, “How the fuck are we supposed to get twenty? You keep raising the price and we’re getting closer and closer to getting caught every day.”

D cackled cunningly, “If it weren’t for you young Noah, we wouldn’t be in this situation. So maybe it’s time for you to step up and find other ways to earn money.”

Ruffilo pleaded, “But we can’t get twenty.”

“Let’s make it twenty-four then,” D clapped his hands together with a sickening smile on his face, making me want to punch it off.

“Twenty is fine.” Jolly clenched his jaw, struggling to keep a pleasant expression on his face. D sauntered over and clapped him on the back, but Jolly flinched away from the false camaraderie.

"That's my boy," D said with fake enthusiasm. "But I have some good news for you."

My ears perked up at the mention of good news.

"Your debt will be paid off next month. This twenty grand will cover everything."

I had to hold back from cheering out loud, but when I glanced at Ruffilo, we shared a silent moment of celebration. Could it be true? Just twenty thousand dollars more and we would finally be free?

D's tone turned sly as he continued, stepping closer to me until our chests were almost touching.

"There is one condition though," he said with a sneaky smile. "Noah is the only one who can pay me back. No help from anyone else. It has to be Noah's work."

+++++

As soon as we got into the car, tears of anger streamed down my face. This had to be a dream. Why the fuck couldn’t I wake up.

“The four of you will wear trackers. That way I know Noah’s alone when he gets the cash, and brings it to me at the end of each week.”

The boys remained silent the whole way, Nicholas giving me sympathetic glances every so often.

“One final test to see if you’ve really learned your lesson, pretty boy.”

I punched the headrest in front of me, anger seeping through my veins. Pretty boy.

“I think we could all use a drink.” Jolly sighed, turning the car into the parking lot of a local bar. Sammy’s.

The boys got out of the car and I lingered there for a moment, squeezing my eyes shut as my chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Fuck this. Fuck everything. Life was a literal bad omen.

I opened the door, slamming it forcefully as I pulled my hood over my head, following the boys into the bar. I avoided the crowd, sliding into the booth Jolly led us to, leaning into the wall.

“What do you want Noah?” Ruffilo asked.

“Tequila,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. At least that would numb the pain for a bit, “Hennesey.”

“Shouldn’t mix that but ok,” Ruffilo said, standing up to grab the drinks; as he turned he hesitated, “Uh, Noah-”

I raised my head to meet his gaze, pulling back my hood in curiosity before shifting my attention to the woman standing behind him at the counter. Y/N was there, dressed in a tight black tank top that hugged her figure, paired with short shorts that barely covered her hips. The fanny pack slung around her waist and name tag completed the look, but I couldn’t believe this was the other job she had.

We locked eyes as I stared at her in surprise, feeling my cheeks flush as she pushed back her hair and gave me a smile that lit up her kind, pleading eyes.

"He's right," Ruffilo said with astonishment, shaking his head at the sight of us. "There's some sort of connection between you two."

"That's Y/N?" Folio whistled lowly, ogling the woman as she chatted with a customer now, glancing over every few seconds.

"How do you know about her?" I muttered through gritted teeth, leaning towards him in a hushed tone before looking over at Nicholas. "Did you tell them?"

"They needed to know," Ruffilo responded defensively, shrugging his shoulders before walking over to the bar.

"She's stunning, no doubt about it." Jolly grinned approvingly, his eyes still fixed on Y/N as she talked with Ruffilo, occasionally glancing back at me.

I couldn't help but keep stealing glances at her until my cheeks burned and I had to turn away. Her gaze felt like it was scorching holes into my skin. "So, now what?" I asked, raking my fingers through my hair and anxiously twisting the ends.

"Just go say hi, you idiot," Folio exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You guys are clearly checking each other out, so just go do it over there."

I let out a sigh and forced myself out of the booth. As I walked towards Ruffilo and Y/N, her face lit up with excitement.

"Why do you keep following me?" I teased, taking a seat on the stool in front of the counter. Nicholas pushed a tequila shot and a cup of hennesey towards me.

I downed the liquor in one gulp, relishing the burn as it travelled down my throat, savouring the taste of ignorance.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Y/N laughed softly, taking the empty glass from me. "But at the same time, I'm not really surprised at all."

"Something keeps bringing us back together," I chuckled, downing another shot of the brown liquor as its fiery warmth danced across my tastebuds. "I have a feeling that I'm meant to get to know you."

Ruffilo left with three beers, leaving Y/N and I alone. She absentmindedly played with her hair again, tucking it behind her ear. "It's pretty strange," she commented with a small smile.

I nodded, “Can I get two more shots?”

Y/N raised a brow but lined up the glasses, pouring the liquor into them. I downed it again, sighing heavily.

“You got your friend to get your coffee this evening?” Y/N asked now, colour rising to her face as she warmed, almost like she was embarrassed at noticing my lack of presence.

“I’m surprised you’re talking to me after finding what was in my bag.” I laughed, my vision starting to blur. It’s been a while since I’ve drank, and my tolerance must have lowered.

She poured me another, as If I had asked with my eyes, and smiled gently, “You didn’t take it back with you though. You left it behind.”

Not sure it was quite on purpose, but I’m glad she thinks so.

“Those guys are your gang?” She nodded her head towards Jolly, Folio, and Ruffilo. I turned, and they immediately looked away, pretending they weren’t watching our entire interaction unfold. My ears began ringing as the alcohol consumed me, the song playing above us getting louder.

I carry your heart around Like a child that has just been born I try not to let you down And I try not to show my thorns

“Those are my brothers.” I nodded, resting my head on the wooden counter, and closing my eyes in defeat.

“Noah… are you ok?” Y/N placed her hand gently on my own, and my body warmed.

You can run but cannot hide If we fail, then at least I tried To save your soul from becoming hurt and scared

“Yes,” I whispered, lying through my lips.

Y/N came around the counter, reaching for me full of compassion. She hugged me again and I leaned into her touch.

I pretend that things are alright I can comfort you and hold you tight

She saw right through my lies. "I can take my break now. Want to talk about it?" I sat up, trying to focus on her through my blurry vision and the buzz of alcohol in my system. Standing up unsteadily, I took hold of her wrist and pulled her with me towards the restrooms. "Noah," she whispered as we turned the corner, out of sight from anyone else.

To love you feels like Walking on broken glass

I was fully aware that I didn't deserve someone like Y/N in my life. The way she treated me with kindness and compassion, a stranger or, as she put it, a level two acquaintance, left me amazed. But deep down, I knew that she was meant to be a part of my life in some way. Fate had brought us together, even if it was only for a short time. As I pulled her close to me, wrapping my arms around her, I couldn't help but hold onto her as tightly as possible. Her warmth enveloped me and I savoured every moment of her touch against my hands, which often showed no mercy.

"Why do I feel like I can tell you anything?" Y/N peered back up at me through her lashes and rested her head on my chest.

"Why do I trust you?" She laughed softly, holding onto me tightly.

Running my hands gently over her back, my nails grazing her smooth skin. "I guess it's because I fit your type."

Her laughter filled the hall again as she smiled up at me. "Oh, right, of course."

"But seriously," I said, swaying with her in my arms. "There must be some reason why we were drawn to each other."

"Maybe," she replied.

"There's no other explanation," I stuttered, feeling the alcohol start to take over. All I could focus on was the warmth of her body against mine and the racing of my heart. My hand travelled up her arm and cupped her chin, lifting her face to meet mine.

Will you carry my heart around When it's old and grey? Will you stay until we fade away?

Our gazes locked, and I couldn't resist leaning down towards her. Our lips met in a soft brush, but I couldn't stop myself from deepening the kiss. It was a bad idea, but at that moment, I didn't care. Y/N stood on tiptoe, returning my kiss with equal fervour. My hands instinctively held her close to me as my heart raced with desire.

I kissed her hungrily, my mind filled with a thousand steamy images. Was it because of the alcohol or my lack of physical intimacy lately, or was it simply because it was Y/N? My hands slid down to her thighs, eagerly exploring her skin before slipping under the hem of her shorts.

“Noah,” she gasped, breaking away from our embrace.

“Bathroom,” I whispered huskily, urging her towards the door. As soon as we were inside, I locked the door and lifted her onto the bathroom counter. The invitation was clear as I positioned myself between her legs.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as our lips met. I couldn't help but smile against her mouth, unsure of where this was heading but only focused on the desire to take her right here, right now.

"I want to take you against this counter," I murmured.

She moaned in response but then pulled away with hesitation. "I don't know if this is a good idea-" she started to say, but I tugged at her belt loop and pressed my body against hers.

"Just one night," I whispered, my forehead resting against hers as we both caught our breath from the intense kiss. "One night to feel anything but pain."

Y/N's gaze locked with mine before she closed her eyes and nodded, pulling me back in for more kisses. The anticipation and excitement coursed through my veins, making me even harder with each passing second.

I pushed her shorts down, revealing her underwear as she sat on the counter. A primal groan escaped my throat as I watched her spread her legs just for me.

This was all so messed up, yet in this moment, it didn't matter.

My hands trailed across her skin, slipping into her panties and tracing her slick folds with my fingers. My body ached to replace them with my own heat, longing for her touch.

But for now, I kissed her again while my fingers explored inside of her, causing Y/N to gasp and shiver with pleasure. My thumb danced along her core, teasing and building up her desire as we lost ourselves in each other's bodies.

Desire consumed me as I pulled back, asking for consent. Y/N's hooded eyes watched intently as she nodded eagerly, urging me on.

"Please, Noah," she pleaded, positioning herself at the counter's edge. I spat into my hand and Y/N followed my movements with rapt attention as I prepared myself before entering her. We locked eyes again and she gave a nod of approval before I slid inside, my body immediately trembling in response to her movements. I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes briefly as Y/N's warmth enveloped me.

I will never forget the day Our souls became one And I know there's a secret We've been Swallowing Lying so passionately

Her brow furrowed as she focused on the feeling of my body inside hers, letting out soft gasps as I moved my hips against hers. From my intoxicated state, I observed her closely, trying to decipher her expressions. As she tightened around me and moaned, I held onto her thighs with my nails digging into her skin. In that moment, I remembered a similar experience in her bedroom earlier that night.

"Don't make a sound," I warned, covering her mouth with my hand. Her eyes widened before becoming hooded again, clearly infatuated with me. "I wouldn't want you to get fired."

Y/N looked like she wanted to protest, the enticing noises begging to escape from her throat. My body was overcome with pleasure, the sensation of being with her intense and passionate. My forehead wrinkled as I struggled to keep going, knowing that I was close to climaxing. Unfortunately, alcohol didn't exactly improve my endurance.

Her soft plea filled my ear as I held her hand firmly in mine. My body responded to her words, and I gripped her hips tightly as I thrust into her, letting the pleasure take over and numb any lingering depression. With each forceful movement, I found release and pulled out of her to finish stroking myself, spilling onto her stomach.

My breaths came out heavy as I knelt down and trailed kisses up Y/N's thigh. She watched me with confusion in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked but spread her legs wider.

"It's your turn now, princess," I replied, reaching for her core and pulling her towards my mouth. I started sucking on her delicate skin, causing Y/N to cover her mouth with one hand and tangle the other into my hair as she rocked against my face.

I savoured the taste of her body, hoping deep down that it was meant to be mine.

"Fuck, Noah," she moaned, throwing her head back against the mirror as she rode the wave of pleasure. Her eyebrows were furrowed in ecstasy.

"Don't stop," she begged, and I didn't. I gave her everything I had.

"Come for me, Y/N," I said between licks and squeezes of her hips. "Be a good girl for me."

As her legs started to tremble and her mouth opened in a silent scream, she reached the peak of her climax. I continued until she pushed me away, her breathing becoming shallow as she caught her breath. I took hold of her chin and brought her lips to mine, yearning for her to taste herself on my tongue.

Life had broken her; just as it had broken him. But when they got together, their pieces became whole. And they started on their journey, together, mended as one. - Steve Maraboli

Chapter Five

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