#oh shit yeah hes bleeding hold on

[nodoubtily]

Look at me…

Warnings:: SMUT so MDNI! (Happy now?) possessiveness if you squint, dirty talk, begging, crude language, just missionary, spit/spitting, talks of pregnancy as a form of dirty talk, squirting, hickies, unprotected sex (DONT BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY.) SoftDom!Niki x WhinyFem!Reader, Niki IS an adult and if you disagree then you can fuck right off with your delusions. Proofread!

“Oh, fuck-“ it comes out in a choked gasp as you slowly take Niki all the way, him slowly driving his cock deep inside you. “S-so…full-“ you say with difficulty, as you rake your hands down his bare back. He sucks in through his teeth when he bottoms out. Niki leans lower, large hands gently brushing hair off your face as you take deep breaths, taking time to take his fat cock. “Nice and full. You’re so good to me, baby.” He gently kisses you, rocking his hips gently to replace the pain with pleasure, which he does with ease. “So tight, all f’me, yeah?” “Yeah.” You whine out, “All…yours.” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

With time, Niki speeds up, to the point his hips are mercilessly hammering into your sopping pussy, rambling. “Fuck, baby. Keep looking at me, wanna see you fucking cum. Oh shit, shit shit.” Niki grinds against you, your clit coming into contact with his public bone as he grinds up messily against you. “Need you to cum in me, baby. Please, god I need this so- fuck!” You’re too far gone, only being able to take his sticky sloppiness as he pounds into oblivion, the smell of sweat and pure sex fogging the room. “Take it. Take-this-fucking-“ every word is followed by a hard thrust. “Dick, oh shit- I’m gonna cum.” He whines out, sending signals straight to your clit. Your legs wrap and lock around his waist, keeping him where you both want him to be. “Give it to me, baby. Give it to me.” You feel yet another orgasm rushing straight from your clit to your stomach, the band winding so tightly that you’re slightly scared for it to snap. “Gonna cum inside, give you my fucking babies and make you a mama. Fuck-“ a guttural whine escapes from his chest, awakening a form of feral-ness you didn’t know you held. You’re cunt is begging him to make that noise again, pussy throbbing, tightening around Niki’s big dick. “Fuck!” He moans again with a snap of his hips. “You just got so fucking tight then.” His pace becomes irregular, begging to cum because it hurts. “Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. Take my fucking dick while you look in my eyes.” His hands hold the side of your face, holding your head so you can only stare back up at him in a lustful gaze. Niki thinks you look so heavenly sinful with your hair ruffled, lips swollen and pink, covered in his spit as he drops globs of saliva into your mouth, neck adorned with dark crimson bruises. “I’m going to cum again.” You announce; your hips raising, inviting a new angle as you brace for an orgasm that feels weirder, almost like you need to pee. “Wait, baby-this feels diff- ohhhh shit.” Your orgasm rushes to you, a very powerful, delicious orgasm as you squirt everywhere, having it land mostly on Niki’s abs and pubic bone. He sits up, so he’s resting on his knees as he stares at your pussy in nothing that could’ve been mistaken for awe. “Baby girl just squirted all over-me. Fuck!” Niki’s hips speed really quickly until they completely come to a halt, a chest-heaving whine leaving his swollen, wet, bleeding lips caused by immense lip biting. “Good girl, oh good girl.”

THIS SMUT IDEA WAS GIVEN FROM A SMUT AUDIO OF NIKI! When I find the creator I’ll tag them. They start with ‘Yucky’.

UPDATE:// the creator I got this idea off of’s user is in my comments, under the helpful user who helped me remember. Please, check out both creators!

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”

[lovebugism]

OMG Stevie helping his shy!girlfriend with a bloody nose while at school just ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

steve promises a good time in exchange for skipping class with him. you end up with a bloody nose. (established relationship, hurt/comfort-ish, 0.8k)

“Missed you,” Steve slurs against your mouth, pressing your body between his towering one and the cold bathroom stall.

You manage a quiet giggle between his sloppy kisses. He swallows the sunshine sound with his plush, pink mouth. “It’s only been three hours,” you tell him as you twist your hands in his wild hair. The chestnut strands feel like silk between your fingers.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” the boy mumbles before pressing his smile to yours. He licks into your mouth and sighs at the taste, almost like he’s never felt you before — like he hadn’t kissed the breath from your lungs all lunch period.

He’s insatiable, your beautiful brown-eyed boy, and he kisses you with haste accordingly. He’s always seemed to touch you that way. With a hunger, like every time he’s held you is the very first time. And with an eagerness, like any time could be his last.

Steve gets all boyishly aggressive beneath the weight of his yearning. And you, warm and fondly held by his swollen mouth and wide palms, can’t help when your head gets all swimmy about it. It’s a horrid combination, really. 

‘Cause when he ducks down to kiss your neck, you rise to the tips of your toes to swallow him whole. Your faces bonk rather gracelessly together accordingly — like a couple of poorly aligned planets.

“Oh, shit!” Steve exclaims as he pulls back from you, rubbing at his aching forehead.

“I’m okay!” you blurt — not because you entirely mean it, but because you feel like it’s something you should say after being so carelessly clumsy.

The boy’s face twists with a puppylike pout. His jutted lips are rosier and very ardently kissed. His honey eyes flit rapidly across your features, glazed over with leftover longing. You look about as far-gone as he does now.

“Are you sure?” Steve presses. Because you’ve got a tendency to downplay the severity of certain situations for the sake of being a burden. It’s a whole thing. You’re still working on it. “I know that had to hurt, babe.”

“I’m fine,” you insist despite the distant throbbing between your eyes. Shaking your head with so much vigor doesn’t help. “I promise. I’m good… I think.”

Steve peers down at you, visibly unconvinced. His narrowed eyes widen when blood drips slowly from your right nostril, trickling like a river of crimson down your cupid’s bow.

Your brows furrow at his suddenly concerned gaze. “What?” you wonder as you reach for your mouth. His eyes are very obviously pointed there, and you’ve got a weird itch now, anyway.

“Nothing! It’s okay, just— Maybe don’t touch it,” Steve blurts before ducking at your side. He unravels cheap toilet paper from the dispenser beside your thigh and wraps it around his hand. He rises again to wipe the nosebleed, only to find that you’ve smeared it with your fingers.

Your eyes go glassy at the cherry-colored blood staining your fingertips. “Gosh…” you murmur as your heart swells into your throat. You blink slow, head all swimmy — and not in the good way.

“It’s okay. You’re alright, babe,” Steve insists as he smooths a softly calloused palm beneath your jaw. He guides your chin softly upward and presses the tissue to your nose. “Here. Just tilt your head back. Hold this ’til the bleeding stops, yeah?”

At a loss for what else to do, you listen to him. You press the crown of your head against the stall wall and wrap a trembling hand around the boy’s wrist. You can feel his racing pulse beneath your thumb.

“This is the last time I’m skipping study hall with you,” you announce with an icy glare that’s hardly intimidating. “Ever.”

Steve’s lip quirks into a sheepish half-smile. “I figured,” he replies.

When the bleeding doesn’t stop, he takes you to the nurse’s. 

He sits with you in the concrete room, beneath the buzzing fluorescent lights and the overwhelming scent of bleach. His hands tremble with the longing to touch you while the nurse checks you over. She shoves a cotton ball up your nostril and a bulky icepack in your hand.

Steve would help you hold it if he didn’t think it would be the worst idea ever. He’s already gotten you into this mess — he figures it’s best to keep himself out of the rest of it for now. He idles in the corner, instead, and plays the innocent bystander.

“How did this happen, exactly?” the woman asks as she scribbles out a report. The pen against the clipboard sounds much louder in the quiet.

You glance over her shoulder at Steve for an answer. He shrugs with panicked eyes. The nurse peers at you over the frames of her cat-eyed glasses with a most impatient glare.

“I, uh— I just wasn’t paying attention,” you stammer less than convincingly. “Slammed right into a wall. Guess I should watch where I’m going, right?”

You force out a giggle while the older woman flashes Steve a deadpanned glare. “And I don’t imagine that you were the source of this distraction. Were you, Mr. Harrington?” she montones.

“Me?” he scoffs with a lopsided smile. “Of course not.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 15

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14

Steve wishes it was raining. Instead, it’s a crisply cold day, but the sun’s shining brightly, illuminating Steve’s dour mood as he walks, unsure of where he’s even going.

The quarry’s miles away, holding his car and house keys hostage. So, he walks, and walks, and walks, aimless.

Chrissy’s probably still at Eddie’s, reading him the riot act, Jeff at her side, so she’s out. He doesn’t have anyone else—Tommy and Carol long since moving on to greener pastures, and no one on the basketball team would go out of their way to spit on him if he was on fire.

There’s always Nancy, but they’re ghosts in each other’s stories now, ships passing in the night.

He should walk to the quarry to pick up his car, and go home to his quiet, lonely house.

He calls Robin at the first pay phone he passes, digging around in his pocket for loose coins as he dials a number he hopes is hers. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Shit, Steve?” her tired voice turns frantic. “Are you oka—”

“Robin,” he cuts in, voice cracking just enough to shut her up. “Can I come over?”

The other line’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of her muffled breathing assuring Steve she hadn’t hung up. “Robin?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry!” she cries, then rattles off her address. “When will you be here?”

It’s a small town, so it only takes Steve a second to reorient himself, figure out the quickest path from where he is to Robin. “About fifteen minutes?” he guesses, not used to accounting for walking time.

Robin sighs, “oh, good,” that frantic edge finally bleeding out of her voice. “Hurry up, dingus, okay?”

He runs out of time before he can reply, phone kicking the dial tone back at him until he hangs it back up, the barrel of the phone rattling as he puts it back on the dirty receiver.

The sun’s low in the sky when he finally stands in front of an unassuming house with a dingy white door. He’s numb, tired to his bones as he knocks quietly on the front door.

Robin flies out, arms wrapping around Steve in a tight hug before he even realizes she’s there. Steve shudders and buries his face in her hair, hands shaking as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her further into his chest.

She pats his back awkwardly but doesn’t let go as she asks, “you okay, dingus?”

“No,” Steve murmurs, afraid of how his voice will come out if he talks any louder. “Can I come in?”

Robin lets go immediately, but Steve holds on a second longer, not wanting to lose her warmth. “You can hug me again in my room, Steve,” she says, arms awkwardly held down at her sides.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with one final squeeze to her middle.

When he finally lets go, fingers flexing in the cold air, Robin leads him into her house. She pulls him through the living room and up a set of stairs too quickly for Steve to get much of an impression past lived in and homey.

“I’ll be in my room!” Robin calls just before she shuts the door behind them, muffling what must be her mom’s response.

Robin’s bed’s messy, and there’s clothes all over her floor. The walls are covered in posters of bands he’s never heard of, pictures cut out of magazines, and little post-it note reminders.

While he gawks at his surroundings, Robin pulls him to her bed and pushes on his shoulders until he sits down on it. She then proceeds to wrestle her quilt away from her other blankets and drape it over his shoulders. Only then does Steve realize he’s shivering as the cold of the outside world slowly seeps out of his bones.

In here, as Robin sits down across from him, he feels safe, finally—safe and warm.

“Okay, spill,” she demands, taking any sting out of the order by reaching out and taking his hand.

Steve takes a breath, ready to heed her orders, before letting it all out. Where does he start? What does he say? Does he start with Jason? With the note to Chrissy? There’s just too much and it’s all tangled together.

But then she squeezes his hand and he says, “I told Eddie.”

He looks down at their linked hands, unwilling to meet her eyes as she prompts, “You told him…” in a hesitant voice.

“That I was the one writing the letters,” he replies. “That I like him, that it was never Chrissy.”

“Oh,” Robin says, scooting closer so their knees bump. He wishes, absurdly, that they were in that same boy’s bathroom stall for this conversation. “Oh, shit. Is he going to tell everyone? Oh my god, are you okay? What did he say?”

“Robin,” Steve cuts her off, knowing from experience that she’ll just keep on spiraling if he lets her. “He’s not going to talk to me anymore.”

And that, for the first time since everything started spiraling out of control, is what makes tears pool in his eyes. Eddie might tell everyone, and he might be run out of town, but that feels unimportant right now.

How can that matter when he’ll never go to another band practice or Dorks & Dragons session? How can that matter when Eddie will never smirk at something Steve says when he thinks Steve’s no longer looking? When he’ll never write another letter, or receive one back?

“I am so sorry, Steve,” she says, and she sounds it, even as she drops his hands to clutch at his face hard enough that his cheeks squish together. “But, are you stupid?”

“Hey!”

She loosens her hold long enough to wipe the few tears off his cheeks before clutching on tighter, nails digging into his cheeks. “I need you to listen to the words I’m saying,” she says, each word enunciated and slow like she thinks Steve’s stupid. “I know it hurts, but Eddie’s just some boy.”

She says the word “boy” like that in and of itself is some cardinal sin, mouth puckered up like it tastes bad on her tongue. Steve laughs, just a little, and she beams at him.

“He’s just a gross, icky boy, but you, Steve Harrington,” she says his name like it’s a revelation. “It has shocked me to my core, but I really, really like you, and I don’t want to have to kill Munson if he tells everyone in town about this, okay? Blood makes me squeamish.”

Steve laughs again, all tears and snot and gross-sounding phlegm. Robin grimaces, but doesn’t let go of him.

“Eddie won’t tell anyone,” Steve replies, pretty sure he’s telling the truth. “He’s too nice.”

She pulls his face closer, eyes boring into his as she says, “he made you cry,” like there is no worse crime. Steve loves her so much.

“I lied to him, Rob.”

Robin sighs, slumping into him until they both tumble down onto her unmade bed, quilts and sheets and comforters lumpy beneath them. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hate him, alright?” she asks, shoving a stuffed elephant into his arms. Steve squeezes it to his chest and stares up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars taped up on her ceiling. “I don’t give a fuck about Munson—I’m here for you.”

And no matter how much he wants to defend Eddie, it’s a comfort to hear. With Chrissy and Jeff, he’s not sure where their loyalties will shake out. Eddie’s their friend, even if they’re Steve’s too. When their newly-forming group fractures at the seams, he’s not sure where they’ll land.

But, he’s got Robin, and maybe that’ll be enough.

“Can I spend the night?” he whispers. “I sort of left my car at the quarry along with my house keys.”

Robin spins around, her hair tickling Steve’s nose as she makes herself comfortable nestled into Steve’s side. “You’re a disaster,” she sighs, “but, yeah. Let me go ask my mom.”

*** 

In the morning, while Steve’s still starfished out on her bedroom floor, Chrissy calls. Robin’s mom is the one that picks up, but when she yells up the stairs, Robin comes running.

Chrissy’s tinny voice sounds frantic as she asks, “have you seen Steve?” quickly enough that Robin barely catches it. “He was at Eddie’s yesterday, but his car’s not at his house, and he’s not picking up his phone, and I’m so wor—“

“He left his car at the quarry,” Robin cuts in, relieved when it shuts Chrissy up. A small part of her burns that it took Chrissy so long to call her when she’d asked her to, like without Robin in front of her, she’d fled the other girl’s mind entirely. “He’s with me.”

“Oh, good,” Chrissy sighs, sounding so relieved that Robin has a hard time holding onto her grudge. “Did he…tell you?”

Robin glances at her mom, standing in front of the stove and stirring eggs around in a pan, well within hearing range. So, all she says is, “he told me.”

“Is he okay?”

Robin runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down her bedhead. “Would you be?” Chrissy doesn’t reply—she doesn’t need to, not when they both know there’s only one answer to that question. “Look, I’ve got him, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighs, sounding relieved. Before she can make her excuses to get off the phone, Chrissy asks. “Hey Robin?”

Robin hums in reply, out of words.

“Thank you.”

With that, the girl that Robin likes hangs up on her, probably to call her own boyfriend and update him on the situation. Robin’s gut clenches, but she tries to take her own advice—Chrissy’s just a girl, but Steve? He’s her friend.

“I’m trying not to be nosy,” her mom prompts, and Robin jumps, having entirely forgotten she was there, “but is your friend okay?”

Robin tries to think of a non-outing way to explain the situation before giving it up as a bad job and just saying, “he’s going through a break-up.” Emotion-wise, it feels close enough to the truth anyway.

Her mom spins, spatula in hand as she raises an eyebrow at Robin and asks, “moves on fast, doesn’t he?”

“Ew, Mom!” Robin cries, stalking out of the kitchen to the sound of her mom’s laughter.

Steve’s up when she goes back into her room, rubbing his eyes blearily as he looks around her room like this is the first time he’s seeing it. “You want breakfast?” she asks.

They eat eggs, hash browns and toast, her mom keeping the invasive questions to a minimum, and then they commandeer the TV in the living room to watch shitty romcoms and complain about their disastrous love lives.

It’s fun—Robin can’t remember the last time she’s had a friend over, much less one she can be honest with, so when Steve makes no move to leave as afternoon turns into evening, she doesn’t mention it either, just shoves a baggy clean shirt and a pair of her dad’s sweatpants at him and demands he change.

It’s in the dark of her room that night that Steve asks, “can I sit with you at lunch on Monday?”

Robin smiles, picturing King Steve Harrington strolling up to the band geek’s table like he belongs there. “Course, dingus,” she replies, and is rewarded by Steve reaching up to take her hand.

“Love you, Rob,” he murmurs.

She stares down into the darkness, gobsmacked as his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. Tomorrow morning, her mom will drive Steve to pick up his car, and he’ll go home.

But right now, tonight, Steve Harrington loves her, and he fell asleep holding her hand.

PART 16

[chunghasweetie]

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐃 | J.JK

— pairing | stranger!oc x stranger!jjk

— summary | jungkook being dragged to a party ends up with him fcking namjoon’s homegirl

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

sexy sex, cursing, praising

— word count | 2.9k words

— song suggestion | privacy — chris brown

“Got fuckin’ work in the morning I don’t have time for this shit.” Jungkook grumpily complained once again.

His friends here and there would drag him out to some parties downtown. Nights full of drinking and meaningless conversations with random people.

He used to be a party guy but after his career jump started, he had no interest in going out.

His friend group went out every weekend, bars, clubs, parties, etc. It didn’t matter. Any social event, you’d be sure to see them.

“Stop complaining. You’re here aren’t you?” Jimin groaned. “You’re getting annoying.”

“Whatever.” Jungkook shook his head.

“Don’t know why you’re mad. Maybe you’ll actually get some tonight.” Taehyung added.

“Yes Jungkook! We know hella girls here and I know they be down for some Kookie.” Jimin teased. “Are our usual girls going? What about the Kim girls? Or the Choi twins? Yo see is Y/n is gonna pull up!” He nagged Namjoon.

“I ain’t even check. Do it matter? You’ll hang with anyone.” Namjoon rolled his eyes in response.

The men eventually pulled up to the function, hearing the loud music blaring from the outside before they even went in.

“Smells like weed and cheating partners, my favorite.” Taehyung inhaled. “Aren’t you excited Jungkook?”

Jungkook glared in response, still annoyed.

The men flashed their IDs to the security at the front before entering.

His friends weren’t wrong about the smell. It grew stronger with each step, it burned into his nose.

“Ah shit my main ones already here!” Jimin pointed at a group of skimpy dressed girls dancing near the bar, “Hey ladies!”

The men walked their way, girls giggling at their enthusiasm.

“Ladies.” Taehyung smooth talked them, making them giggle and shy away.

Except one anyway.

“We missed you!” One of them pouted, attempting to be cute.

“Yeahhh! Jiminie it’s been a week why haven’t you texted me?” The others screechy voice could make Jungkook’s ears bleed.

“Oh my gosh.” One of them froze. “Omg omg omg!!! Jungkook finally came!! You brought him!” She jumped in excitement.

“Woah!”

“He’s so handsome in person!”

“How’d you get him to come out? Who cares! I want him to dance with us!”

“Come on girls.” Namjoon calmed them. “Let him breathe, he not used to the spotlight like us.”


Jungkook shot him a glare. “You act like I’m scared of em’.” He mumbled

“I know you not.” Namjoon shook his head. “But one of them, you might be.”

“What?”

“Fuck, it’s hot in here.” A voice came from behind the other girls. “Can you guys move out the way? I’m tryna get another drink.”

And his heart stopped.

He had never imagined he’d see the most beautiful face at some ghetto underground function.

“Hey Y/n.” Namjoon greeted, giving her a side hug.

“Hey Joon.” She smiled, turning to Jungkook. “You brought your other friend.” She smiled his way, waving.

He just stared back at her, with a dumb look on his face.

“What’d I tell you? Told you he wouldn’t talk.” Namjoon shrugged.

“It’s cool.” She shrugged. “Probably won’t see him again.”

“This why I can’t stand either of you. Never want to go out and live up your youth!” Jimin interrupted, two girls on his arm.

“Because some of us actually have lives outside nightclubs.” She rolled her eyes, refacing Namjoon. “Hold my purse? I need to go to the bathroom real quick.”

Namjoon nodded and she walked off.

“Bad as hell huh!” Namjoon blurted, bro-hugging Jungkook.

“She’s cool.” Jungkook tried to stay nonchalant.

“He’s lying!” Jimin laughed. “Nah we knew you’d like her that’s why we begged her to come out too!”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Jungkook groaned “You guys are annoying as shit.”

“Eugh look at him! My man’s smitten!” Jimin pretended to swoon, making all the girls laugh.

“Nah. She pretty yeah, but that’s about it.” He shrugged.

The man was lying through his teeth.

That weed smell? Turned to straight vanilla when she walked his way. His attitude? Complete 360.


Damn was she pretty. They didn’t even meet her here they had to drag her out.

The comment she made to Jimin? Instant green flag.

He felt more delusional than the time Taehyung through a Las Vegas stripper actually loved him.

He shook his head, ignoring his heart pounding out of his chest.

“Whatever man. Get this man a drink!” Taehyung flagged down the bartender.

“Okay I’m back.” Y/n grabbed her purse from Namjoon. “Thank you.”

“No worry about it. Yo, my boy said he’ll buy your drink. Get whatever.” Namjoon told her, winking at Jungkook.

“Really?” She rose her eyebrow, turning her attention to Jungkook.

“Uh— Yeah I got you. Get whatever.” Jungkook swallowed.

Namjoon made eye contact with the rest of the boys, signaling them to move away from the bar so they could be alone.

“I’ll take a Malibu Bay Breeze.” She ordered.

He ordered after her, “I’ll just take a Gin and tonic.”

“Sorry they’re annoying.” He apologized for his friends. “But I haven’t formally introduced myself, my names Jungkook.” He put out his hand.

“Y/n.” She shook Jungkook’s hand. “I heard you don’t like coming out like that huh?”

His lips curve into a slight smile. "Nah, I ain't really a party guy. My boys dragged me out.”

“But now that you hear, I'm glad I came." He takes a sip of his drink, eyeing her. “They never mentioned you before.”

The bartender came back around with their drinks, the two thanking them.

“I don’t come out like that either.” Y/n replied, sipping on the drink she was just served. “Namjoon and I dated a bit in college but now we just cool. He just asked me to come out tonight to hang out with you guys.”

His eyes widen briefly. "Oh so you know Namjoon, huh?”

She nodded.

“Well, I gotta say, Namjoon's got good taste.” His eyes linger on her face, then slowly drift down to her body. “Real good taste.”

“Yeah you think so?” She chuckled, “You definitely have a good eye.”

"Oh, you have no idea.” He leans in closer, growing more comfortable and confident. “Like I’ve said, I'm not really into the whole party scene, but if I had known there'd be beautiful women like you here, I'd have come more often."

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t think Namjoon would pull up with a friend I wouldn’t find immature and annoying.”

“Well, I’m glad I'm not disappointing. And just so you know, I'm far from immature."

“You ain’t gotta tell me. I can see you compared to the boys. You’re more reserved than them” She responded.

"That's one way to put it.”

Jungkook reaches out and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “I like to think I'm more... refined. More put together."

He was pulling out the stunts now.

“I can tell.” She grinned.

Y/n was definitely giving him a major ego boost. Not in a desperate way, enough for him to want more.

“Refined and interested.” His voice dripped with passion. “So tell me, Y/n, what else can you tell about me based on first impressions? Since you’re so observant.”

“You seem to be very forward, I can already pick that up.” She chuckled. “Might be the playboy type.”

“Forward, yes. Playboy? I don’t know about that one Y/n.” He leans back slightly, “Hey now, I’m not that bad.” He grinned.

“But I won’t lie and say I don’t enjoy women.” He admitted."

“How’s that working out for you? Since you never go out.”

"Well, it's not like I haven't had options. He leans in close My bed's not empty every night, if that's what you're implying.”

He winks, clearly enjoying her company.

“So you are just like your friends is what you’re telling me?” She rose her eyebrow.

He noticed a small change in Y/n’s expression.

He was realizing he was getting a bit ahead of himself, getting cocky.

He needed to slow it down.

“Hell no, I'm nothing like those horny bastards.” He shakes his head, “I'm just... selective. And skilled. But hey, don't go spreading that around."

“Nah, now I have to tell everyone.” She teased.

Back on track.

He gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "You wouldn't dare. I'd have to take drastic measures to keep you quiet."

“Really? And what are those measures?”

Damn was Y/n beautiful. The light highlighted her face beautifully in every way.

She didn’t even need to show all out because her body was already built so perfectly.

Everytime she spoke it was like honey to his ears.

He grins, his eyes locking onto hers "Well, I could always make sure you forget all about telling anyone.”

He reaches out and gently brushes his thumb across her lower lip. “Or maybe I could just keep you occupied all night, so you don't have a chance to say a word."

She was definitely feeling him as much as he was feeling her.

“I like the sound of that…” She mumbled.

“I’ll be honest Y/n, I usually ain’t the type of guy who asks this to random women but,” He paused. “Would you want to get outta here and head back to my place?”

༊—

He nuzzles into her neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell amazing. His hand slides further up her thigh as he speaks. “Fuckin’ finally got you alone."

They had already made out during that entire taxi ride.

The two barely could barely make it through the door of his house, lips smacking and saliva dripping from their passionate mouths.

As soon as the door clicked shut, he was all up on her, his hands gripping her hips as he spun her around to face him.

His kisses was passionate and demanding, his hands roaming over her body possessively. He broke the kiss only to speak against her lips. “Bedroom. Now. I gotta have you.”

“You’re turning me out” she chuckled against his mouth before heading up his stairs into his room.

He followed close behind, his hands gripping her backside as they entered his room.

He gently pushed her onto his bed, his eyes never leaving hers as he began to unbutton his shirt. “You’re driving me crazy. So fuckin’ pretty.”

“I didn’t even do anything” She mumbled.

“You exist. That’s enough.” He crawled onto the bed, his hands finding the hem of her shirt.

“Lift your arms.” His voice was low, commanding.

He gently lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside as he took in the sight of her. His hands roam over her bare skin, his fingers tracing patterns on her stomach.

“Fuck, you're gorgeous.” He murmurs, his lips pressing against her collarbone.

“I’ll be honest I haven’t uh— done anything like this in quite some time.” She confesses.

Jungkook pauses, looking at her with a soft expression. "Okay, baby. Whatever you're comfortable with.”

He continues to kiss and nuzzle her neck, his hands staying above the waistband of her pants. "I just want to be with you, however you need me to be.”

That almost immediately set her off. It was the bare minimum yes, but she couldn’t help but smile.

She grabbed him by his hair and crashed her lips back onto his and sloppily made out with him once again.

His response was equally fervent, his hands gripping her hair as he deepened the kiss.

His body covered hers, his hips grinding against hers. He broke the kiss to trail his lips down her body, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. “Unbutton my pants.” He rasped out.

She nodded, doing as she was told.

He lifted his hips, allowing her to slide his pants and boxers down. His erection sprang free, waiting for her.

He guided her hand to it. “Stroke me. He groaned, his head falling back. “Just like that, baby. Your hand feels so good.”

She had no problem touching him, almost like she had already known his body.

He groaned at her touch, "Fuck, just like that." His hands found her breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he continued to grind against her.

He could feel her heat through her pants and it was driving him crazy. “Take these off— fuckin’ now.”

She loved being directed what to do. He was demanding and instructed her well. She quickly slipped her pants off, leaving herself in a dark red glittery thong she didn’t think anyone would’ve seen.

His eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her. He ran a hand up her thigh, his touch rough.

"You look...addicting. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her underwear, slowly pulling it down. "Lift up, baby. So pretty”

She nodded slowly, biting her lip as she stared down at him.

He tossed her thong aside, leaving her bare before him. He took a moment to admire her, his hands caressing her thighs. "Spread your legs for me." His voice was low, almost a growl.

She slowly spread out her legs, her heat throbbing for him.

He settled between her thighs, his eyes locked on her center.

He reached up to spread her lips open, exposing her to his gaze. "You just pretty from head to toe." He murmurs, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit.

"I'm going to eat you out until you can't remember your own name." He smirked in excitement.

“Jungkook” She whined, mesmerized by his words.

He grinned up at her, his breath fanning over her heated center. “I’m just getting started.”

He leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her.

He explored her thoroughly, his tongue delving deep inside her.

“Oh fuck” A curse word slipped from her lips, not expecting his warm and wet tongue so soon.

“Fucking amazing. Tastes so fucking good.” He mumbled against her head.

He chuckled against her, the vibration causing her to shudder. “Perfect girl.” He continued his assault, his hands holding her thighs apart as he devoured her.

“You’re fuckin’ good at that” She hummed, mind numb from how overwhelmed she was with pleasure.

He could feel her walls clenching around his tongue, her juices dripping down his chin.

He lifted his head, his chin glistening as he looked at her. “And I’m just getting started.”

He climbed up her body, kissing her deeply so she could taste herself on his tongue. His hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head. “Keep them there.”

He leaned over, grabbing a condom packet he had previously tossed on the bed. He ripped it open with his teeth and slid it over his length.

“Now just let me know if I need to go slow okay? Gotta let me know if you’re hurting.” He kissed her forehead.

“O-Okay.” She nodded.

He aimed himself at her entrance, his broad tip stretching her as he slowly inched inside her tight heat.

The two immediately gasped as it went in, exhaling as he fit himself inside her.

He groaned low in his throat, “Fuck, you’re so tight. You weren’t kidding”

“W-Whatever. You’re just too fucking big.” Y/n mumbled.

“Mm but you’re taking me so good beautiful.” He picked up his pace.

Jungkook grunted, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he slowly thrust deeper.

“Take a deep breath, baby. You can do it.” He encouraged her.

“Fuckkkk” She groaned “Shits starting to fit perfectly.”

He pulled back to look at her, a smirk on his face. “That's it, take every inch. Your pussy takes it so good.”

He started to move, his thrusts deep and steady. One hand released her wrists to grab her hip, pulling her into each thrust.

“Feels so good.” She breathed out.

“You have no idea.” He growled, his pace increasing as he pounded into her.

“Fuck, I love this tight pussy.” He reached between them, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you squeeze my dick more.”

“You’re so rough” She giggled, blushing.

He grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs wider as he continued to rail her.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mixed with their heavy panting and her screams of pleasure. “That's it, baby. Take it. Fuck.”

She whined “So…Fucking…Mmm…Good”

He leaned down to kiss her, muffling her cries as he continued to thrust into her hard and fast.

His own grunts of pleasure filled the gaps between her moans. “You're so close, baby. I can feel your body gripping me tighter. Let go pretty girl.”

Her body trembled, “Y-yeah.” She was under him, shaking and whining.

He felt her walls clamp down on him, her orgasm hitting her hard. He didn't hold back, letting her cum before quickly pulling out and cumming all over her stomach through the condom.

He quickly rolled over beside her, the two panting.

“You better not tell Namjoon.”

“Oh I have to tell Namjoon.” He chuckled.

“You can’t!” She tried to catch her breath. “Then he’ll be right.”

“About?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“He told me that I would end up going home with you tonight.” She mumbled.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “Worked out for me.” He wrapped his arm around her.

“Worked out a little too well, I actually did it.” She shook her head.

“Mm it worked out for me real baby I got a pretty girl in my bed.” He taunted.

“Whatever! I was supposed to not be here tonight.”

“But are you regretting this?” He stared at her.

“No…”

“Then it doesn’t matter. Let him be right.” Jungkook shrugged. “At the end of the day, I’m the real winner.”

[pseudowho]

Fright Night! Multi-Fic

The local fair has a Halloween fright night! Actors and zombies and terror, oh my! You drag your boyfriend to it...how does that go for you?

Gojo, Geto, Toji, Higuruma and Ino

18+, NSFW/suggestive in parts

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Gojo: Goes in smiling. Obnoxious laughter the whole way, and it only worsens when you're screaming at every single actor. As you cringe away from a dead-eyed bride, Gojo tickles your ribs until you squirm.

"Awww, baby, you scared? You're scared, right?"

As if in answer to his question, and received with heaps of cackles, you screech when some hideous creature with no teeth and bloodstained rags lunges at you from the dark.

"Satoru-- hold my hand--"

"--ahhh, yeah, okay...c'mere."

He pulls you in, and you scuttle to keep up with his long-legged stride. Still, the horrors continue and so does his mockery.

His teasing is relentless. Your fear is gradually replaced by indignant prickling anger. You take your chance, when it comes.

"You go in first," you beg Satoru, outside a horrifying old room full of dolls, "please, Satoru, check it out first before I go--"

He huffs as if actually bothered, but his shit-eating grin gives him away as he ambles inside. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twi--"

You promptly shove the door closed with a bang! and yank a chair beneath the doorknob. You've heard rumours about this room; you are not disappointed. Satoru's voice sounds wary. The doorknob rattles just once, and you bite your lip with a smile.

"--hey...hey, babe, the...the dolls are moving."

Nervous laughter from the room. You try to hide the laughter in your voice.

"Oh yeah? You okay?"

"--OH, FU-- yeah, I'm fine. You know me, I'm the stronge--"

Satoru's voice cuts off with a profoundly girly screech, and the doorknob rattles violently while you twist with silent hilarity, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke out.

"Ohhhh, nooo, Satoru, the door's stuck!"

More screeches, bangs and horrifying eerie noises, but you're too busy pressed forwards on your knees, laughing and laughing to the confused looks of passers-by.

"The dolls aren't dolls! THE DOLLS AREN'T DOLLS! BABE! LET ME OUT!"

A guy leans down to you, pointing at the door.

"Hey, uh...can we go in?"

You wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, bursting into laughter as you hear Satoru scream again.

"No...no, sorry buddy. This one's gonna be taken for a while, I think."

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Geto: Total con-artist. Though he croons to you, cloudsoft and soothing through your horror, he's the puppet master. The horror engineer. The king of manipulation.

Every time another actor leaps out to set fear aflame in your veins, Suguru only pretends to be surprised; he isn't. He's already led you around this maze three times, anticipating the flow of the actors, and bleeding you for maximum terror.

He doesn't want to admit how his cock twitches against his thigh every time you break down into a whimpering mess; but, he can't deny that he's getting off on this.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh," he soothes, one arm holding you to his side while his lips and nose ghost the shell of your ear, "shhh, baby, it's okay...it's all just pretend. I'm here. I've got you."

You look confused, your memory tangled by fear; "I...I could swear we've been this way already, Suguru--"

"Trust me. I know the way. These mazes are all samey. You're just getting mixed up, silly. Come on."

He has distracted you again, of course. He walks forwards, looking back to you with a smile. You frown, looking down at Suguru's two empty hands...and wondering whose hand you are holding.

The scream you scream, as Suguru seamlessly replaces himself with a white-eyed, rotten-fleshed actor, sends a dribble of pre-cum down his thigh.

He's just waiting until he can get you home, switch off all the lights, and continue the scare trail straight into bed.

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Toji: Utterly unbothered, and smirks his way around. Some of the actors approach, take one look at him, and then turn tail to scare someone else. Anyone else.

But halfway round, he gets bored, and disappears. You're left, abandoned; alone. Toji wants to get in on the action.

You're surrounded by screams, and silence, and dry ice in the dark, and you turn on the spot, spinning, frantic, your heart pounding, your tongue dry, sweat dripping down the small of your back--

Until the sound of metal on metal. Something scraping along a wall. Footsteps heavier than your own heartbeat. And, the one small light source you have is blocked, as a monster of a man in a boiler suit, mask and axe fills the doorway.

The whimper that leaves you is audible; "...Toji?" As if you could be so lucky.

Silence. His heavy, laboured breathing. The footsteps begin towards you, slowly at first...before he runs.

You run, too, shrieking like a banshee, too loud for you to hear the occasional laugh beneath the monstrous man's roars. You find yourself chased down to a dead end, your back and palms flat against the wall, chest heaving, and he approaches slowly, watching you behind his mask.

The blade of the (very blunt) axe strokes down, down, down the centre line of your torso to stop just over your sex, and you whimper, mortified by the trickle of arousal that creeps through you.

"T-Toji--" You whisper to yourself, "T-Toji, where the fuck--please please please help me--oh my god ohmygod ohmygod--"

A shiver seems to go through the man, who leans down and whispers, in a voice so familiar that your jaw drops.

"Like bein' chased, huh? What about bein' caught? You like bein' caught?"

Judging by the way his boiler suit tents, Toji likes it, at least.

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Higuruma: Has not got the mental wherewithal for this, today. Perhaps another day, but not today. And it infuriates him, when his colourful imagination and adrenaline threaten to overtake his inherent logic that this is all just make-believe.

"For fuck's sa-- pull yourself together, Hiromi," he groans as another horrifying creature-person scuttles past in a contortionist twist. You're carried on his back, squealing and kicking into him, while he huffs at you with beleaguered fondness.

Every time something makes him jump, a noise of bewildered shock bursts out, and he growls at himself, running his hand back through his hair and pressing his forehead against a nearby wall.

A few actors, however, take one look at him and treat him as part of the furniture. Hiromi frowns.

"Some of them think I look scared enough, apparently."

You mumbled into his neck. "Scary enough, I think you mean. Look--"

You gently turn his face to a flaking full length mirror. Hiromi drinks himself in; still in a dishevelled suit and tie, sweatstains, coffee drip on his white shirt, and dark circles that surely have to be make-up.

Suddenly, it clicks.

"Ahhh," Hiromi breathes putting you down to your screeching indignation; he doesn't notice as you press yourself to the wall, instead rubbing his face and clothes on a discarded 'bloody' rag.

By the time he's finished, stepping slowly over to you, chin tilted down and looking down at you with beetle-black eyes, you feel a shiver running through you. He's...frightening. Clearly some awful spectral businessman, covered in blood and dirt and horror.

"You...wow. Yeah, Hiromi, you look...great."

Hiromi shrugs you onto his back with a satisfied little chuckle, and the rest of your scare trail is relatively unhindered. Passers-by skirt round him with a wary gaze, and the sinister little smile on his face only adds to the effect.

You stroke one finger down his chest, sultry and whispering.

"Hey, Hiro...stay like this, later, for...activities."

"You are utterly twisted, my love. I absolutely can."

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Ino: Just as scared as you. Absolute chocolate teapot. You'd have done better taking a puppy with you, probably, because the actors approach Ino thinking he can take it, and he absolutely can't.

If Takuma could have jumped into your arms, a la Scooby Doo, he would have. Alas, he simply pulls his balaclava down in groaning terror. When other visitors then scream at him, too, thinking he's part of the crew, he raises his balaclava back up with a suppressed sob.

"Baby-- I can't take it-- I'm too weak-- my heart--"

"Takuma, I--" You shriek, too, when some ghastly woman in a bloodstained nightdress appears. She runs for you both, and you and Takuma sprint away, hand-in-hand, half-laughing, and half-crying.

By the time you round a corner, slamming the door to trap yourselves in a dark room, you and Ino hold each other, panting in the gloom. You feel a familiar hard press against your belly, and look up at Takuma with utter disbelief. He blushes, his lower lip drawing up and looking aside with a grumble.

"--are you excited, Takuma--"

"--aww, shit, babe, you know he don't make any sense--"

His words cut off with a strangled moan as you grip him through his pants, and, biting your lip, lower to your knees. Takuma's jaw drops, his cock twitching up as it's released. You whisper up at him in the dark.

"...emotional support blow-job?"

"F-fuck yeah, emotional support blow-job, I can be your hero after that--"

A few people come to investigate the ghostly little moans coming from your room, but Ino blocks the door with one trembling, jittering foot until the moans crescendo.

[artyandink]

kindred

“DON’T STAY AWAKE FOR TOO LONG, DON’T GO TO BED”

A/N: a little angst piece cause I felt like it, heavily inspired by Carry On but it happens before so tEcHnIcAlLy Carry On is inspired by this :)

God, Dean should have never taken his eye off the ball, the ball being you. Sure, you were such a damn good hunter — one of the best he’d ever seen — but even the best had their drawbacks, even the best had their moments, even those moments couldn’t be afforded. You and Dean had been casing a possible group of vampires in Houston while Sam hunted a werewolf down in Wichita, and you two determined that it could only be a few. You could take ‘em, you were good enough.

Wrong.

It was a whole nest, a whole ass nest, which you two had been able to mostly clear with some machetes and bullets laced with dead man’s blood. Until one son of a bitch had snuck up behind you when Dean thought the worst was over and shoved a thin wooden stake right through your stomach and yanked it back out

How fucking ironic.

Dean couldn’t hear the yell of your name that left his mouth as you crumpled to the floor, couldn’t feel when his hand holding the machete lashed out and took the thing out, dropping to his knees in front of you as you propped yourself against a wall.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart.” His voice was frantic, looking at the gigantic fucking hole in your stomach that was leaking hot blood— shit, shit. “Keep your eyes open, yeah? Don’t take ‘em off me, don’t you dare. You’re fine, you’re—” He had to cut himself off before his voice broke into a million pieces. His heart was racing, head spinning, hands frantically taking off his flannel to press against your stomach to stem the blood flow— you were a fighter, right? You fought everything, you never backed down, you wouldn’t this time, right?

“Dean,” You rasped out, in shock, looking down at the gash that was in your stomach, then back at him. “Dean.” It was like you were a broken record in your head, your head lolling forward, to which his hands flew up to keep your head up. Your body was fighting, he could see it in your eyes. “D—Dean.”

Your voice was strangled, and that was one of the worst sounds he’d ever heard in his life. Hearing it hurt his heart almost as much as seeing the wound did. You were pale, clammy — you were bleeding.

“Eyes on me,” Dean repeated, holding your face tighter in his hands, his eyes flitting to the wound every other two seconds. “Eyes on me, princess, c’mon, stay with me. Please.”

The panic was clear as hell in his eyes, like a storm tearing through a calm night. The sight of all that blood, your blood, staining your clothes and the ground beneath you tore his heart open and just left him raw.

He gently kept your head in place, not letting you slump, not letting you give up. “Stay with me. No falling asleep, sweetheart. Stay awake.” Just keep your eyes open, keep looking at him. He needed to see the light in your eyes.

You could feel it. You could, the pain stabbed through your stomach, making you let out a sort of strangled cry, breathing heavily. “I’m not— I’m not ok, am I?” You couldn’t even recognise your own voice, it was hoarse, it was raspy. Oh, God, oh, God.

The cry punched Dean in the gut, and he held back an almost strangled sound from himself, the way your voice was so quiet and broken making his heart shatter. He didn’t answer your question, because if he knew you weren’t ok, he’d lose it. He’d go insane with worry.

He shook his head, refusing to believe it, refusing to accept it— you were fine, goddamn it, you were gonna fight. “It’s gonna be ok. You’re gonna be fine.” He repeated those words like a mantra, both for your benefit and his.

“I can’t— just tell me.” You begged, your eyelashes fluttering, but you kept them open, wanting to hear it. “Tell me you’ll be ok, Dean, please.” You reached for his hand on your cheek, gripping it. “You an’ I both know I ain’t makin’— makin’ it outta here.”

“Stop it. Stop it.” Dean’s voice was a broken whisper, his chest heaving. He couldn’t lose you, he would not. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine because I won’t let you die on me, do you understand?”

He wanted to break, he wanted to scream at the world, he wanted to cry and sob. But if he did, he’d fall apart. You needed him to stay strong, to keep you alive.

“Then tell me something good.” You whispered, hot tears rolling down your grimed cheeks, eyes becoming more vacant by the second and he saw it. “Tell me something good, talk t’ me.”

Talking, he could do that — talking was a distraction, yeah, distraction for the both of you. What was something good, though? What could he say to you that would be any reassurance when you were literally bleeding out in his arms?

“You know what’s good?” He spoke, his voice strained but still a little gruff. “You are. You’re so goddamn good. And when we get out of here— because we will get out of here, got it — I am gonna tell you that every day.”

You grinned weakly, losing control over your breathing, gripping his hand as fear struck through in the form of pain in your lower abdomen. “I love you.” You blurted, laughing a little in relief — a weak, barely there laugh — that you’d finally said it. You finally did it. “Never told you that, but god, I’m crazy for you, Dean. Just— just remember that.”

For once in his life, his heart soared and plummeted at the same time. You were saying this now? You had to say it now? Not when you were safe, when he could celebrate getting your love and devotion in words and actions.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?” The scoff he let out sounded wrecked, but his thumb was a gentle caress against your face, trying to sooth you, wipe away the tears. “Why say it now?”

“You know I don’t know how feelings work.” You scoffed, unable to stop a watery laugh, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth as you coughed, some more dribbling down. “But I’m glad I— that I said it. You love me back, right? You…” You looked to him for some confirmation. Any at all.

He ached at the sound of that laugh, and he almost winced at the sight of the blood dribbling from your mouth. You were losing it too fast for his liking, but you were staying awake, and that was something he wanted to cling to.

“Of course I fucking love you back.” The admission was instant, like he had no time to be coy or hide it. Hell, what was the point of hiding anything at this rate? “Been crazy about your stubborn, beautiful ass for years. Thought it was plain to see, sweetheart.”

“Do I have to remind you that I ain’t a psychic?” You coughed again, gripping his hand tight, eyes dropping to his lips. “C’mere. Please, c’mere, Dean. Just— I’m losin’ it fast, don’t leave me hangin’.”

“Not leaving you, sweetheart.” He assured you, his voice quiet as he gently lifted you and manoeuvred you so you were laying properly in his arms. All the while, one hand kept firm and hard against your stomach, while the other gently touched your face, the curve of your cheek, your hair — anything he could get his hands on.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, trying not to think about how much his heart was screaming at the idea of losing you.

Your hand left his, cupping his own cheek, even if you knew you tasted copper and he probably could too. The kiss was simple, sweet, slightly desperate and one hell of a goodbye, not wanting to let it go, salt from your tears staining your lips as well.

The taste of your tears and your blood was something he didn’t want on his tongue, not one damn bit. It felt like a goodbye, like you were giving up, and he couldn’t have that. You were too damn good to give up, too good for him to say goodbye to.

“Please.” He mumbled against your lips, desperately kissing you, like they could keep you here, like a kiss from him would keep you alive.

“I don’t wanna go.” You whispered, losing grip fast, desperately holding on to talk to him. “Just— just don’t blame yourself, ok? It was my— my dumbass that got us here. Ok? So— so just tell me it’s ok, tell me you’ll be ok.”

“I don’t blame ya, god, I don’t." He didn’t even stop to think, he didn’t know how he’d keep going in a world without you. “Stop taking responsibility, you stupid—“

He cut himself off, hating how you were trying to act like your own death wouldn’t shatter him. All he wanted was to be able to fix this — fix you — and keep you alive.

He grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chest, wanting you to feel his heart, feeling your hand curl into his undershirt.

“Dean, please, tell me I can go.” You begged, feeling the tears fully roll down your face now, giving him a brave smile. “Tell me it’s ok, please, I can’t— I can’t hold on anymore.”

He didn’t want you to go, he couldn’t let you go, but he could see it in your eyes that your grip on the world was slipping. You were so damn brave, but he was selfish, he would do anything to keep you here, even just for a second longer.

“Go where?” He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear it one more time, he wanted a few more seconds hearing your voice. “Please, sweetheart, fight for me.”

“I love you.” You murmured, voice weak, low, head tipping forward so your forehead rested against his cheek. “I love you… I can’t…” Your breathing was slowing, grip loosening on his hand. “Tell… me.” He had to, right? He had to say it’s ok.

“Don’t you dare.” He hated the weakening tone in your voice, the way your hand slackened; hated how you were making your peace because that wasn’t allowed, not now.

He wanted to stay strong. He didn’t want to break, but hearing your voice like that, so weak and soft, broke something in his chest. Dean pulled you as close as possible, burying his face into the crook of your neck, letting the first sob free from his throat.

He gave in. “Course it’s ok. I’ll be ok, sweet girl, I’ll be ok.”

He felt you let out a breath, but you didn’t take in another one. Your head fell limp against his shoulder, but you didn’t pick it back up. Your hand released his shirt, slid down like it was weighted and never got back up.

Your eyelashes fluttered, closed, but you didn’t open them again.

His whole damn world stopped. He had felt everything, even heard the moment your breath left you, and then nothing. Every good thing, every sweet moment, every stupid laugh and smile and sarcastic comment — it all just stopped.

Dean sat there for a long moment, refusing to believe it, refusing to believe you were gone. He gently laid you as best he could, not letting go as he put his fingers against your throat, trying to find your pulse.

There was nothing, he found nothing, just your cheeks paling, head limply falling sideways, lips parted — stained with blood — one final tear rolling down your cheek.

You were cold.

“No. No.” He couldn’t stop himself from pulling you back into his lap, cradling you to his chest like a broken doll. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear apart the world and everyone in it for letting this happen.

He let out a wretched sob, burying his face into your hair, wanting to feel you just one more time, praying to a god he was never sure existed to bring you, his pretty girl, back to him.

“Come back.” He whispered, his voice cracking, begging. “Please, please, come back to me, just breathe again, give me something— anything.”

He gently gripped your chin, lifting your head up so he could see your face one more time, ignoring the fact that you were so damn still. Just a breath, that’s all he needed, just one damn sign you were still with him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

“I’ll do anything.” He choked out, pressing messy kisses to your face and hair, not caring about the blood — he’d never care less about it, he’d take every damn drop you had left in you. “Sweetheart, just open your eyes, just move for me, please?”

Nothing.

“Please?”

TAGLIST:

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@cheynovak

special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite

[evie-sturns]

fall - Chris Sturniolo

summary: where your boyfriend chris accidentally hurts you, he spends the whole rest of the night trying to make you feel better.

contains: crying, fluff, comforting, minor injury

------------------------.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.----------------——

With a small grunt I attempt to reach on top of the fridge for the wine glasses, after a bad day at work the only thing I wanted was a glass of red wine.

"Chris!!" I call out, finally realising I can't reach. He doesn't respond, I'm pretty sure he has his headphones on in our room.

Admitting defeat I get off my tiptoes and jog over to the dining table, I drag one of the flimsy wooden chairs across the room back to the fridge.

I sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as I bend over, grabbing the back of the chair and stepping up onto it,

Just then chris walks into the kitchen "you okay?" he asks, walking over behind me as he looks up at me.

"Yeah! I'm just trying t-" I start but I get cut off by Chris's foot slamming against the leg of the chair

bang.

He knocks it out from under my feet, my feet give out, slipping against the wood. "oh my god-" he raises his voice as i fall sideways,

the whole left side of my body slams against the tiles of the kitchen floor, my head slightly making Impact as well.

I lay in shock for a couple seconds before the pain hits, shockwaves of heat shoot up my side, my head throbbing.

I burst into ugly sobs, "I'm so sorry! Shit-- are you okay?" chris gasps, leaning over and picking me up effortlessly, he cradles me in his arms. I can physically hear his heartbeat, his hands trembling as he runs his hand over my head.

"my hip!" i cry, Chris runs over to our bedroom and sits down on the bed, he holds me close to his chest.

"where does it hurt- tell me where it hurts" he rambles frantically, I point to the side of my body and chris nods understandingly,

“is your head okay? it’s not bleeding” Chris try’s to stay calm but I don’t think me sobbing into his shirt is helping

“please don’t cry i’m so sorry.” chris sighs shakily, rubbing my arms and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“lers get you changed baby, you can’t be comfortable in your work clothes, you think!” Chris try’s to lighten the mood, I nod.

Chris carefully moves me off his lap, as if he touches me any harder i’ll shatter. He jogs over to the closet and looks back at me with a sorry expression

“what- what would you like to wear?” Chris squeezes out, I shrug before wiping my eyes

“that’s okay! are we feeling hot or cold?” He asks, scanning over my face which is drenched in tears

“hot” I mumble, my voice cracking halfway through. Chris nods before searching through the closet drawers quickly

he pulls out a small white tank top and blue striped boy-shorts. “is this okay?” he asks, I nod.

Chris walks over to me and picks me up from under my arms, standing me upright on my feet.

“does it hurt to stand up right sweetheart?” Chris asks, his voice laced with concern.

Truthfully it does hurt to put weight on the right side of my body, but I don’t want to tell him that and panic him more than he already is

i shake my head, “that’s a good sign!” chris force’s enthusiasm, he doesn’t cover up his emotions that well so the undertone of his sentence is fear.

he taps my arm, “and… arms up” chris says, trying to concentrate. I force back my tears as I put my arm up, my right arm won’t comfortably go up.

“oh baby.” chris sighs, rubbing that arm. “do you want to try put it up just for a second? I’ll be really quick getting your blouse off.”

I raise both arms with a wince, chris pouts slightly as he swiftly pulls my shirt off. “you’re doing so well” he whispers, grabbing the white tank top from behind him and pulling it on over me.

“and arms down!” chris says, my arms fall back down. i give him a small smile, tears still flowing down my flushed cheek.

chris reaches down and unbuttons my mini skirt, before tugging it down to my ankles. he hooks his fingers under the waistband of my panties before pulling them down and off.

He picks me up from under my arms again, lift in me out of the skirt which is bunched around my ankles before placing me back down on the carpet. Chris grabs the shorts and pulls them up.

He looks somewhat proud of that effort of getting me changed.

Chris picks me up again and lays me down on the mattress. “how are we doing?” chris asks quietly, i look up at him “I’m okay- i think”

“If you’re not feeling sleepy yet we can grab my laptop and put on a show, or if you’re tired we can go to sleep?” He suggests,

Unironically i yawn when he’s halfway through his sentence, “that’ll answer my question” he laughs, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall down, he walks over to the closet, picking out some pyjama shorts and throwing them on.

he takes off his shirt and discards it on his desk chair before walking back over to me, Chris crawls over me and lays down, tugging the covers up over me.

I lay my head on his chest with a small sniffle.

“i’m genuinely so sorry, i really didn’t mean too.” chris whispers into my hair.

“it’s okay.” I say, “if you’re still hurting tomorrow morning we’ll get you to the doctors okay?”

“thank you chris, i love you.” i smile, he reaches his hands up and wipes my eyes.

“oh- chris what about the wine” I instantly remember the fact there’s a spill of red wine spread across the floor.

“you want wine right now? if it’ll make you feel better i’ll go get i-“ he starts, I cut him off

“noo chris! the spill” I laugh, “oh it’s okay, it’ll be fine i’ll clean ‘her up in the morning” Chris replies casually.

“you sure?” I ask, “it might smell really strong of wine in there for the next couple weeks if we don’t get it now”

“i’ll get it out, i have my ways” chris giggles stupidly, earning a scoff from me.

——

8:23am the next morning

The morning sun burns into the side of my face, with a small husky groan i sit up, chris is wide awake next to me laying on his back, his gaze slowly drifts over to me

He’s got dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, his skin pale.

“What happened to you? You look like death” I laugh tiredly

“I don’t think I slept once” Chris groans

“Why? what happened- was I on top of you again like the first time we slept in the same bed- sorry.” I ramble

“no no- it wasn’t you” chris laughs,

“i was just really worried.. about you, and i felt awful for hurting you and making you cry—“ chris says quietly

“oh chris.” i say with a sad smile, i lean down and press a kiss to his lips, holding both sides of his face with my hands.

“i’m okay- i promise sweet boy” I whisper,

“now get to sleep, i’ll be in the living room” I laugh,

chris whines- holding up his hands and tugging my shorts, pulling me towards him

“you know i hate sleeping alloonee” chris groans

—————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts s @333michelle @h3arts4harry y @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover r @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 4 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[solarmorrigan]

“You know, you’d probably be more comfortable in bed.”

Steve groans. Quietly.

“I’m gonna take that noise to mean, ‘Yes, Eddie, you’re so right, I should take my sick ass to bed!’, to which I am going to say, ‘Thank you, Steve for acknowledging how right I am.’”

If Eddie’s plan is to irritate Steve until he manages to get up off the couch and shamble himself to their bedroom, he’s on the right track.

But the thing is, Eddie is right (unfortunately) – Steve knows he’d be more comfortable in bed. The couch is too short and the cushions are too worn and the seats are just a little too narrow for him to really relax. But at the same time, the flu is trying to murder him, and he’s got a fever, and everything aches, and he doesn’t want to move.

Rather than explaining any of this to Eddie through his sore throat, Steve instead grumbles, “Your impression of me sucks.”

“Well, I’ll work on that while you’re resting,” Eddie drawls.

Steve manages a faintly agreeable-sounding noise and then pulls a throw pillow over his face.

“Steve,” Eddie says.

Steve doesn’t move.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again.

Steve is still not compelled to move.

“Steeeve. Come on.” Eddie reaches out to poke Steve in the side, who belatedly raises a hand to swat him away.

“Don’t wanna move,” Steve mumbles.

“You’re never allowed to call me dramatic again,” Eddie says.

“Mph,” Steve replies.

He hates being sick – really sick, the kind that his body just won’t tolerate pushing through. If he can’t pretend to be well, he feels he has no other recourse but to be dramatic.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Eddie offers. He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

Steve snorts. “Yeah, sure.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Eddie declares, and Steve has just enough time to pull the pillow off his face and look up before Eddie is scooping him up off the couch.

“What the fuck!” Steve shouts, arms locking almost instinctively around Eddie’s neck as Eddie gets one arm settled beneath the crook of his knees and the other around his back.

“Relax, we’ll have you in bed in no time,” Eddie says, swinging around to face the living room door with a grunt and trundling forward.

“You’re gonna drop me,” Steve says, winding his arms more tightly around Eddie’s neck; he’s pretty sure no one has picked him up or carried him anywhere since he was maybe eight years old.

“Ye of little faith,” Eddie replies, only slightly strained.

“Me of exactly the right amount of faith, which isn’t a whole damn lot, no,” Steve insists, ducking forward when Eddie lists a little too close to one of the hallway walls.

“You’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “I’m not gonna drop you.”

They reach the bedroom door and, as he’d promised, Eddie doesn’t drop Steve.

He does, however, whack Steve’s head on the doorjamb.

And then he drops Steve.

It doesn’t end up being much of a fall; Eddie only loses his hold on Steve’s legs, and with Steve’s death grip around Eddie’s neck, he mostly just lands awkwardly on his feet before tumbling down onto his ass with a thud and a quiet, “Ow.”

Eddie is on his knees beside him in an instant. “Holy shit, I hit your head.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. My head was the one part of me that didn’t hurt,” Steve grumbles, rubbing behind his ear, where his skull had connected with the doorframe.

“Oh my god, I hit your head,” Eddie says again.

Steve blinks at him. “Yeah, we established that. Did you hit your head, too, or–”

“Shit, shit, are you dizzy? Is your vision blurry? Wait, fuck, you’re not wearing your contacts – are things blurrier than normal?” Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve’s face and stares into his eyes, as if he’ll be able to tell that way if Steve’s brain has finally been knocked loose. “Do you feel anything, like, swelling? Bleeding? Leaking?”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t feel that sort of thing happening,” Steve says, and Eddie’s face crumples.

“Shit, you’re right, I should take you to the doctor,” Eddie declares, moving to stand up.

Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him back down. “Eddie, I’m fine.”

“No, your brain could be leaking or some shit, and you’re gonna have, like, an aneurism, and you’re gonna die, and it’s going to be all my fault because I hit your head and I killed you,” Eddie rambles, shaking his own head.

Steve isn’t sure if any of that is even correct, but he’s willing to bet Robin has been sharing her worries about Steve’s head trauma with Eddie. “That’s not–”

“Your head is the one part of you we really can’t afford to hit!”

“As opposed to the rest of me?” Steve asks, one eyebrow raised.

“If it comes down to it, yeah!” Eddie bursts out. “Do you even know how many times you’ve hit your head?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know, or because you’re afraid I don’t remember?” Steve asks drily. “Because you weren’t even there for most of those times, man.”

“It’s not funny,” Eddie says, and he’s definitely trying to sound stern, but he’s verging a little bit on whiny; he seems like he’s starting to calm down, since Steve has so far failed to collapse and die.

“Okay, then, seriously, Eddie – I’m fine,” Steve promises. “You didn’t even hit me that hard, it barely hurts.”

“Steve, I love you, but you have a severely skewed sense of pain and should not be trusted to rate it on your own,” Eddie says.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Here,” he grabs one of Eddie’s hands and pulls it around to where his head had hit the jamb, “feel. Are there any bumps? Cuts? Anything seem out of place?”

With a frown of deep concentration, Eddie runs his fingers gently from the top of Steve’s skull to the base, occasionally pressing a little harder, but never hard enough to hurt.

“Good?” Steve asks, once Eddie’s had a minute to feel for himself.

Eddie’s shoulders slump. “I guess.”

“Ah, don’t be disappointed. Maybe it’ll be a concussion next time,” Steve offers.

Eddie shoots him a wildly unimpressed glare. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Steve decides, but he takes Eddie’s hand from his head and brings it around to press a kiss to the back of it.

There’s definitely a smile ticking at the corners of Eddie’s mouth, but Steve doesn’t point it out.

“Do you want some ice, or something?” Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

“What I want is to walk over to the bed and lie down, and I want you to come with me,” Steve says. “And in an hour, I want you to bring me more Tylenol and some of that really good tea that Joyce sent over. Deal?”

This time, Eddie does smile. “I think I can handle that.”

Steve smiles back. “Good.”

They get themselves situated, Eddie at Steve’s back with an arm slung over him, a single blanket pulled up to their waists (“Pretty sure you still have a fever, sweetheart,” Eddie had insisted. “You’re gonna cook yourself to death if you cover up.”), and in the dim, sleepy light filtering through their curtains, Steve presses back further into Eddie’s chest.

“I like that you care so much,” he says quietly, and Eddie squeezes him a little more tightly.

He shifts enough that he can press his lips to the spot where Steve had bumped his head. “Always will,” he murmurs, and hell if Steve doesn’t believe him.

[Prompt: Bridal carries]

[andvys]

I know places E.M.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader giving Eddie a blowjob, bullying, Jason being Jason.., reader is a popular cheerleader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You cheer Eddie up in a special way.

Word count: 2k+

Author's note: this is inspired by this Steve smut when reader mentioned her past moments with Eddie... this is only one of them, there's more coming. @mysticmunson thank you for inspiring me to write this hehe

stranger things masterlist

-

The cafeteria was bustling, loud voices, laughter and giggles sounded through the large room, the cheerleaders were gossiping, the jocks were laughing loudly about something, the nerds were already doing their homework instead of eating and you were observing. 

With a hand under your chin and a pointed look in your eyes, you were looking around, searching for him. You always looked forward to his dramatic speeches, you loved watching him, how he’d get on the table and come up with theatrical words as he insulted the jocks and the rich popular kids, he knew he would only get shit for it later on, get another black eye or a flat tire, yet it never stopped him, he only came back with a smirk and do it all over again. 

You were waiting but he didn’t come. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks, nudging your shoulder. 

You nod but your brows are furrowed. His friends were at their usual table but he was nowhere to be found. 

You turn to look at your friend, noticing that her boyfriend wasn’t here either. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m gonna go to the restroom, gotta fix my hair.” 

“Your hair looks fine,” she mumbles as she eyes your ponytail, raising her hand to brush it back, “pretty as always.” 

You smile and suddenly her eyes widen, “wait, are you trying to impress someone, oh my god, who is it?” She gasps, raising her hands to cup her cheeks as her eyes flash with excitement. 

“No one,” you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“Tell me everything!” 

You get up, rolling your eyes at her excitement, “there’s nothing to tell, I’m just using the restroom,” you say as you step away from her.

“I still don’t believe you.” 

You only shake your head at her with a small chuckle before you walk away. Just as you’re about to walk into the hallway, the door opens and in walks Jason with his asshole friends, they are laughing about something and you already know what they are laughing about. 

Rolling your eyes and clenching your jaw in anger, you push past them and step into the hallway. You find Eddie standing by his locker, his back pressed against it. He sniffles as he holds his aching nose. His fingertips are painted red from the blood that is seeping out of his nose. 

You clench your fists in anger, contemplating going back to punch Jason and break his stupid nose but instead you focus on Eddie, making your way towards him. 

“Eddie?” 

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, glassy eyes meet yours, they flicker with surprise when he finds you looking at him with soft eyes. 

You step closer to him, frowning at the state he is in. 

He stares at you with wide and curious eyes, blinking, his lips are parted in surprise. He looks confused. 

“You’re bleeding,” you mumble as you stop in front of him, eying him for a moment. You take his hand, pulling it away from his face, your eyes widen, “fucking Jason, I hate that guy.” 

Why is the popular cheerleader talking to him? 

His breath hitches in his throat when you press yourself against him to check for more wounds on his face. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers. 

Eddie can smell your sweet perfume, intoxicating. Your glossy lips are set in a pout when you raise your hand to touch his chest, “can I take care of you?” 

“W-What?” 

You chuckle at the expression on his face, his red cheeks and the dumbfounded look on his face. 

“Can I take care of you? Clean you up?” 

He blinks, raising his brows. 

What the fuck did he do to get you to even talk to him? 

You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a small smile. 

“Is this some prank? Am I about to get jumped by your friends?” 

You frown at him, smile falling a little. Yeah, you might be mean and a bit of a bitch to certain people but you are not a bully and you would never do this to someone, let alone him. 

“No, I just wanna help.” 

He swallows nervously, slumping back against the lockers, he eyes you up and down, the way he always does. Eddie has never really talked to you but he holds the door open for you every chance he gets, giving you cocky smiles when you walk past him, he wasn’t exactly subtle when he would check you out but you liked it, your giggles gave it away. 

“Can I help?”

He licks his lips, staring at your soft exposed skin, your beautiful eyes, your lips that curl into a smile when you catch him checking you out, yet again. 

He almost forgets about the pain that Jason has caused him. 

He doesn’t have to answer your question, you know the answer already, you take his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his calloused ones. Leading him through the hallway, you make your way to the restroom. 

Eddie stares at you, ignoring the way his stomach flutters when he feels your much smaller hand in his. 

He looks down at your little cheer skirt, watching the way it moves softly, your hair bouncing. He clenches his jaw, gripping your hand tighter. 

He has dreamed of this way too many times. Getting you alone, flipping your skirt over your ass, pulling your hair as he fucks your tight little hole. He spent too many nights fisting his cock and fantasizing about fucking you in his little cheer uniform. 

Crushes never lasted long for Eddie and he wasn’t into any other cheerleaders but you? You were stuck in his mind, you nestled your way into his head, infesting him. You haven’t even touched him, you haven’t even talked to him and yet you were all he could think about. 

When you step into the restroom, you slam him against the wall, for a moment he thinks that you will kiss him but instead you turn back, leaning over the sink to reach for the paper towels. 

Eddie almost growls at the sight of your skirt moving up. He could just bend you over the sink and take you. God, he feels like a perv. You are being nice, trying to help him and he is here, having all these thoughts about you. 

You step in front of him again, brushing his curls back, you grab his jaw and bring the towel up to his face, cleaning the blood off gently. 

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat, his eyes widen yet again when he feels your chest against his, your gentle hand on his face, your soft eyes. 

“You poor thing,” you whisper, “he got you good, huh?” 

Eddie blinks, “I-It’s not that bad.” 

You frown, shaking your head, “you’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse.” 

He fights the urge to grab your waist. 

Your lips look so kissable, so perfect. You are so very beautiful. 

“This is bad.” 

You’re bad, pressing yourself up against him, acting all innocent. He knows you know what kind of an effect you have on him. He knows you can feel his hardened cock against your lower stomach, you know that he wants you. 

“Can I cheer you up?” You ask as you throw the paper towel in the trash without turning away from him. You place one hand on his chest and the other in his hair, playing with his curly hair as you bat your eyelashes at him, “can I make you feel good, Eddie?” 

His heart starts racing, a shiver runs down his spine, “w-what?” He knows exactly what you mean but he has to hear you say it. 

“Can I cheer you up?” You repeat. 

“I– how?” 

A smirk tugs at your lips, “you know how,” you purr, sliding your hand down his chest and his stomach, your fingers graze the cuffs on his belt and he already whimpers, you haven’t even touched him yet and he is already whimpering for you. 

You place your hand over his clothed dick, palming him. 

“Oh, f-fuck.” 

“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask as you stand on your tippy toes, leaning closer and placing your lips on his jawline, “please?” 

“You want to suck my cock?” He asks in confusion, why would you want him? 

“I always wanted to suck your cock, pretty boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red, “so… can I? I wanna make you feel good, I wanna take your pain," you say as you caress his cheek with your manicured fingernails.

He shivers, loving the feeling of you against him, touching him like this.

In what world would he ever say no to this or to you? He grabs your waist and walks you back, pushing you into the tiny stall, he locks the door behind him and turns around to look into your eager eyes, cupping your cheeks, he mumbles please. 

“Please what, Eddie?” You tease, eyes glinting with amusement. 

“Please suck my cock, sweetheart.” He whines, eyes staring back at you with neediness in them. 

You slam him against the wall, murmuring good boy as you latch your lips onto his neck. You could see the way he looked at your lips, the way he chased after them when you got close enough, he wanted to kiss you but you will save that for another time.

“You’re adorable, Eddie,” you giggle as you lean in to kiss his jaw again, hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt. 

Eddie is breathing heavily, his eyes are still wide, he is still in shock, feeling like this is nothing but a dream that he will wake up from any moment but no, you are here, eagerly sucking at the skin on his neck as you shove your hand into his pants. 

You moan against him, “I've thought of this so many times, Eddie.” 

He moans and gasps at the same time. 

You have dreamed of this? 

"I touch my needy pussy and think of your big cock inside of me."

Holy fuck.

“Fuck baby, can you show me?” he pants, tilting his head to give you more access to his neck. You lick and bite and suck on his sensitive skin, marking him up, giving him the hickeys that he always wanted from you. You giggle, the sound shooting straight to his heart. 

You giggle, "you wanna see how I touch myself?"

He nods eagerly. You clench your thighs together, sighing as you pull back to look at him, "maybe next time."

Please, don't let this be a dream, he thinks to himself.

“Yes, I– fuck… please.” 

You tease him with your hand, holding his cock in your much smaller hand and fuck, does it feel good, it feels so much better than his own hand. 

“P-Please,” he whimpers, “if you keep this up, I’m gonna cum in your hand.” 

You giggle again, pulling your hand out of his pants, you pull them down in one swift motion, licking your lips as you drop down to your knees, in front of him. The shocked expression on his face, the lustful gaze, the parted lips– god, he looks so fucking good. 

“You have such a pretty cock,” you say to him as you wrap your hand around him, pumping him a few times again, earning moans from him. Pre cum is already leaking out, rolling down his length. "So big... are you gonna fuck me sometime, Eddie?"

"Please, fuck yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, baby." He whines.

Your stomach flutters and you can feel yourself getting wet.

You kiss his tip, almost laughing at the gasp he lets out. You keep your eyes on him, staring at him through your lashes as you swirl your tongue around him a few times, watching his reaction closely. 

“Oh my– fuck.” 

You smirk. 

And finally you wrap your lips around him and take him into your mouth, fully. He hits the back of your throat, you bite back the gag, your eyes water but fuck, you love it. You continue to tease him with your tongue as you begin to bop your head. 

“H-Holy shit,” he gasps, panting above you as he stares down at you in awe. He reaches his hand down to grab your ponytail, pulling roughly. “Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he moans as he tries to stay still. 

“Mhmmm,” you moan around him, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. 

“Baby… baby,” he whimpers, “you’re taking my cock so well, fuck… you’re such a good girl.” 

His moans are loud, echoing through the restroom, he doesn’t even care if anyone is gonna walk in, all he cares about is you. 

"W-Who would've thought the pretty cheerleader is a little slut for me?"

You moan and whimper as though it brings you pleasure to suck him off, to choke on his big dick. You look up at him, there’s arrogance in your eyes but also adoration? What the fuck? What kind of gods have blessed him this day?

“You’re such a filthy slut, fuck.” He grunts as his dominance takes over, he grips your hair tighter, pulling out whimpers from you. 

His words make you whine, pressing your thighs tighter together. He wasn't supposed to make you feel like this.

Eddie stares at you in awe.

Who would’ve thought that this would ever happen? Maybe he should thank Jason for punching him, maybe he should let him do it again if that means that he would get you like this again. 

His words only make you moan even louder, sucking his dick more eagerly. You are desperate for him. 

“P-Please don’t stop.”

Your eyes are filled with tears, saliva is dripping down your chin and you are moaning like a bitch in heat. You love this just as much as he does. 

He bucks his hips into your mouth, gripping your head tightly causing you to choke around him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry–” he whimpers as you interrupt him by hollowing your cheeks tighter around him. Bringing your hand up to play with his balls. 

Eddie is in fucking heaven.

This is not a dream, this is very real. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his dick and worshiping him.

His throbbing dick twitches inside of your mouth, prompting you to get more desperate. 

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open because he wants to see you. 

Your eyelashes flutter and you look into his eyes eagerly. 

“Fuck…. fuck.” He grunts, “I’m– cumming.” 

Eddie cums hard. His vision blurs as he spills inside of your mouth. He feels as though you sucked the life out of him. Despite the dizziness, he manages to keep his eyes open, looking down at you, he watches you swallow his cum.

“Holy fuck,” he whines, “you’re so fucking hot.” 

You giggle, not bothering to wipe your mouth. You tuck him back in his boxers, helping him put his jeans back on, you fix his belt and get back on your feet. The shocked and fucked out expression on his face makes you giggle. 

He is speechless, staring at you in awe.

Eddie’s heart is still racing, his legs feel like jello. What have you done to him? 

You brush your fingers through his curls and wipe the sweat off his forehead, leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek and smile at him. 

“If you ever need someone to cheer you up again, you know where to find me,” you wink, giving him pat on the cheek and one last kiss before you make your way out. 

Eddie doesn’t even manage to make a sound, let alone form a sentence, he just stares at you, watching you leave. 

Only as the door shuts, he comes back to his senses. Staring into blank space as he breathes heavily. A smile tugs at his lips. 

“Holy shit.” 

He thought that he was blessed that day, that it was just a taste of something he would never have again, not knowing that it was only the beginning of it all.

He didn't know that he would get you again, in open yet secret places.

He didn't know that it wasn't just him who wanted more but also you.

-

tagging some faves @littledemondani @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @mysticmunson @bimbobaggins69

[t1red-twilight]

friends?

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, confession, cursing, pre-season 4

word count: 1.7k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you were somewhere in reno, nevada trying to track down a poltergeist. you knew that dean and sam were nearby, but you had no clue how close they were. the motel you were currently staying at was on the nicer side, to be honest. the motel room had been decently cleaned, the television had some actually good channels, and the sheets were soft.

you had ordered takeout and were watching some shitty game show, the room only lit by the lamp on the nightstand in between the two queen sized beds.

right as you were about to take another bite, you heard a knock at your motel room door. well, the knock was more of a thud than anything.

you looked through the foggy peephole, only to see the top of someone’s head and a tuft of brown hair.

without unhooking the chain, you opened the door. only to be surprised to find dean winchester slumped in the doorway. “dean?”

to put it lightly, he looked like shit. there was a bit of matted blood on his hairline and he was holding his shoulder. not to mention the sweat that lingered on his body everywhere you could see it.

“i got shot.”

“what?”

there was a pause before he responded. “yeah, yeah. can i come in?”

“oh, of course. yeah. absolutely.” you removed the chain and opened the door enough so that he could come in. when he was inside, you poked your head out and looked around. you saw the impala parked very crooked in the spot next to your car.

you turned to see dean awkwardly standing in the middle of the room. you walked behind him and pulled out the chair from the desk, urging him to sit down wordlessly.

“i’m just going to wash up for a second,” you stated, walking to the bathroom. dean responded silently with a thumbs up. for whatever reason, you caught yourself in a haze. why was he here? was he actually okay? was sam okay? the warm water from the faucet somewhat lulled you out of your head. you patted your hands dry and walked back out to dean.

you gently tugged his jacket and flannel off, and pulled the arm of his short sleeved shirt up. he hissed in what you assumed to be pain. rubbing his back, you stood. “i have a first aid kit around here somewhere.”

“please, just make it quick. i’m bleeding out over here.” reaching into one of the cabinet drawers, you pulled out the first aid kit. after some years hunting, your first aid kit became more of a small hospital in a box.

you walked over to dean and kneeled to be eye-level with his shoulder. you grabbed his hand and had him hold up the bloodied sleeve of his shirt.

as you were tugging the bullet out of dean’s arm with long tweezers, you heard him repeatedly grunt in pain. “sorry,” you looked up at him. his face showed a screwed-up expression, his eyebrows drawn together.

all he responded with was a tightly knit, closed mouth smile that was very clearly strained. “dean, what did this to you?”

dean looked away at you and at the wall; he began to fiddle with the edge of his shirt sleeve. “you should see the other guy”

you snorted sarcastically.

“no, really. is sam okay?” you took out the disinfectant and prepped his arm.

dean inhaled shallowly. “it was just a mix up with some vampires. i knew that you were nearby, and sam sucks at stitches, so-“ he blurted, before you cut him off.

“…so, you’re keeping tabs on me?” you raised an eyebrow playfully while you readied the needle and thread. “i’m going in with the stitches now.”

“fuck,” he muttered. “thank you for the warning. jesus.” he paused, eyes flickering between yours and the floor. “it’s-uh, hard not to.”

you raised your eyebrows. “what do you mean?” what did he mean? yeah, you guys were friendly, but surely he wasn’t suspecting you of anything. you pretended not to hear the tone in his voice that indicated he meant something more than he was saying.

dean gulped. “i- we just like to know that you’re safe. that’s all.”

“okay you little creeper, i see how it is.” as you spoke, you finished up the stitches with a patch to cover them from any irritation. “i’m assuming you don’t need anywhere to stay tonight?”

he answered your question with another question; you began cleaning the wound on his forehead. “maybe i can just stay with you tonight? i’m sure sam wouldn’t mind,” he all but whispered the last part.

you stood after finally finishing patching him up. this view you weren’t used to, seeing him from above. you were even less used to seeing dean be so vulnerable. he had this look in his eyes, a sort of pleading. maybe he had picked that up from sam. “if you really want to, then you totally can.” you shrugged. “i was just finishing dinner, then i was going to clock out for the night.”

dean held up his hands. “by all means, finish your dinner.”

“eh, i’m not really that hungry anymore,” you joked. “i haven’t gotten in either bed yet. you can pick whatever one.” you closed the takeout box and placed in on the tv stand, the tv still playing the shitty gameshow. you had all but forgotten about it.

dean held a perplexing look on his face, he almost seemed distant. “i’ll take the window bed. you good if i sleep in my boxers?”

walking to the bathroom once more, you shrugged. “yeah, sure. i’m going to brush my teeth- just settle in before i’m done.”

by the time you emerged from the bathroom, dean had, in fact, settled in. he had pulled he sheets and duvet up to his chin, only his head being exposed. what a cute visual, you thought.

“i texted sam. i told him i was staying with you.” he barely even moved as he spoke.

you smiled at him lopsidedly, drawing the sheets back and sitting down. “that’s good,” you paused slightly, “can i turn the lamp off?” dean nodded. you turned out the light and pulled the sheets over yourself.

normally, dean’s snores would have filled the room rather quickly. however, you didn’t notice this as you started to drift off to sleep.

a couple of moments passed before dean decided to say something.

“hey,” dean whispered, “are you awake?” the silence that followed made dean think that maybe you were.

you grunted, but answered with words when he didn’t respond. “yeah. why?” the warm sheets held you in an embrace; one that you would surely disappear into if dean didn’t follow up quickly.

dean mumbled a response, “thank you for letting me stay with you.” the soft genuine nature of his tone made you think twice. what was he getting at?

“yeah sure, that’s what friends are for.” you hoped the smile could be heard in your tone, but anything could be said with how drowsy you were. that was the end of that, you assumed. dean just wanted to be extra sweet tonight, you guessed. weird.

dean all but blurred, “so, we’re friends?” so, maybe dean wasn’t being sappy, maybe something was up.

“what?” you asked confusedly.

his voice lowered in volume slightly. “we’re friends, that’s what you said,” dean remarked. that thing in his voice was there again.

your eyes shot open. “uh, yeah?” he didn’t answer. “dean?” this time, you sat up and looked at him. “dean?” the sheets fell around your torso; you looked to your side you could see that dean was wide awake. “you good?”

dean’s next statement shocked you to your core. “just this once, can you lie to me? please.” the words were seemingly aggressive, but paired with his tone of voice, it just felt to be desperate.

why would he want you to lie? “what? why would i lie to you?” you puzzled out loud, pulling the sheets closer to you again.

“maybe, tonight, we can just be more. just for tonight,” dean murmured. for the first time since he spoke up, he looked into your eyes.

his green eyes swirled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. his brow knitted together again.

oh.

that’s what he had been getting at; that’s what he had been getting at all night, and you were sure that he had been dropping hints far longer than just tonight.

but, you couldn’t stand to be a one-time-thing, even if it just was pg-13 and not anything sexual. you liked dean, a lot. you wouldn’t be able to brush this off. you would forever want him to be close to you; dean wouldn’t be a drug you could quit easily, or at all.

you gulped. “well,” here goes nothing, “maybe tonight isn’t enough for me.” you kept yourself turned toward him, but lowered your gaze.

“what?” this time, he only spoke out of anticipation. the kind of pure excitement and joy that a child has when they get a toy they’ve been asking for for ages.

“maybe i need every night,” you continued. you mustered up the courage to look him directly in the eye.

“that works for me,” he responded almost instantly.

a more calm silence settled over the motel room. you two would need talk this out later.

you laid back down, whispering, “you wanna come over here?”

dean sat up. “yeah.” swiftly, he picked up his feet and left his bed, padding over to your bed and pulling back the sheets little by little. you opened them fully and he climbed in.

it started with the pair of you laying down next to each other about a foot away from the other. until, dean reached out his hand under the covers to search for yours.

when he found it, he grasped your hand like it was his lifeline. then, he pulled your arm; meeting his eyeline, he flicked his head over in and effort to get you to inch closer to him.

you understood, and moved ever so slightly closer to him. dean reached his other arm over and tugged your head to lay upon his chest.

dean was warm, his heat filling you. his heartbeat resounded in your ears, drowning out the buzz of the crappy ac. everything about him was comforting to you; like he and you were meant to be.

“how about you stay with me and sam for a while?” dean whispered into your hair.

you closed your eyes again. “i’d like that,” you murmured.

you’d definitely have to address this later. but, for now, this was good. this was really good.

[faygosoda]

Angst w hyun-ju? Where reader gets attacked really badly during the special game and hyun-ju couldn't protect reader. Hyun-ju is like really worried because reader is like kinda on the verge of bleeding out and dying

A/N: Oh yeahh my first req!! I hope I did this justice n Im sorry if she comes off as ooc!!

Title: So Much Lost

“Fuck..” you mumbled, hand holding your side as you stumble into one of the beds, tears welling in your eyes.

Stupid games, stupid debt, stupid bob having druggie stabbing you with the fork..

You held back a groan as your knees became weak, left hand bracing yourself on the post of the bed.

You didn’t want to worry the others with this but considering the fact that you were on the verge of passing out and bleeding (which was such a lame way to go), you would have no choice but to tell someone..

Something just always had to go wrong in your life- family abandoning you, forcing their debt on you, a fuck ass love life, and more AND now you have a stab wound.

Great. At least I’m away from the others.. this would just cause more pani-

“(Name)?…. Holy shit-“

Fuckkkk, of course Dae-ho found you.. always the one to search and help those in need.

“Dae-ho listen don’t go and tell-”

“Like hell I won’t!” He runs off as you groan your left hand which wasn’t currently putting pressure on your side slapping your forehead.

Multiple rushed footsteps are heard from god knows where.

“(Name)!”

“Oh my goodness-”

“Everybody move out the way!”

Blah blah lots of talking lots of worry and concern from who knows who..

You didn’t really pay attention to who was saying what besides one voice that belong to the one person you had came to admire the most throughout the days of being here.

“Hyun- Hyun-Ju..”

It was a quiet mumble but able to be heard from her attentive ears.

“I am right here (Name), stay awake for me okay? Who did this to you?”

Her words were shakey along with her hands that came up to sit you up as.. Gi-Hun? Yeah, Gi-hun and some of the others rushed around to find stuff that could possibly help.

“That- uh.. that one guy with the bob who w- was with the purple h- haired dude..”

I groan out, glancing down at the red spot that progressively got bigger, soaking through the fabric of my tracksuits zip up and onto my hand.

“Son of a bitch..” Hyun-Ju mumbled, tears evident in her eyes.

“D- definitely..” I slur, head falling back as my eyes close before a hand comes to my chin, making my eyes re-open.

“No. Keep your eyes open and look at me. Do not go to sleep.” Her hand hold your chin, turning it her way and you can’t help but look at her adoringly, eyes half lidded and a strained smile on your face.

“I.. I can’t- it hurts so much- I’m- I’m sorry I should’ve listened to- to you..” A choked sob comes from you, tears slipping down your face.

“Stop it- (Name), stop don’t apologize please do not- I can’t lose you too!” Hyun-Ju’s words are rushed yet quiet.

‘I can’t lose you too!’ Oh right, Young-Mi.. shot dead after the third game. One of the many people Hyun-Ju has lost besides her family and well.. now you

Your hands move up to hold her cheek and her hand that held your chin as your vision blurred, colored shapes of those who you now considered your friends gathered around the bed you sat up on.

“Young-Mi’s right.. you’re beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.. you make me nervous. Hyun-Ju, you- you have to make it out for- for me.. please Hyun-Ju.. Don’t let me hold you back.” You spoke quietly, eyes lidded to the point your lashes blocked view of the womans face that had tears falling down her cheeks.

Hyun-Ju nods, face leaning into your touch as she cries, shoulders shaking.

“I promise you I- I will (Name). For- for you.”

You smile, breath slowing down and a meek sound comes from your throat.

The last thing you hear are her sobs which continue to go on for who knows how long.

The only thing that riddles your mind is ‘what would have happened if we met under different circumstances?’

The end!

A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading that oneshot! I hope it was okay n I hope u liked it😇 I #hateangst cuz wdym that bob ho killed us I js wanna chill w my wife😢💔 SORRY THAT ITS SHORT, I WAS LWK BLANKING BUT FOR THE NEXT FF ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE IT LONGER!!

Btw pls send in my requests cuz this saved me from boredom💋

[joostsblog]

Omg hi your writing is so so good!! So I just saw the new photos of Joost (with his broken phone etc) and I thought of a new story… can you maybe write something where Joost trips and has some small injuries like a scraped knee and elbow etc, and reader takes care of him??

I loooooove this! I also noticed that there's a red spot on his knee so I wondered if he actually fell down or something

kiss it better ~ joost klein one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A bloody scratch on your crush Joost's knee turns into an interesting opportunity for you.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: You already know, it's another friends to lovers one shot, i'm a sucker for those. I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌

Warnings: blood, not proofread

Joost had always been clumsy. His drink accidentally slipping out of his fingers when grabbing it. Bumping into a corner when he just told a funny anecdote to his friends. You could even say that the way Joost stumbled into your heart was clumsy. Because he definitely didn't mean to do it, after all, you were just one of his friends. But there he was, definitely not leaving anytime soon - that you were sure of.

Your strategy for dealing with your uncurable crush on your friend was definitely unique. You and Joost were known within your friend group for being ultra-affectionate and flirty to one another. Always alternating between bickering and jokingly complimenting each other. Always making a joke out of every hug and touch you shared.

"Go get a room already," Apson would occasionally say with a roll of the eye and you both would laugh along but secretly you would wish that you could tell Joost about your crush earnestly. Instead, you hid it away under layers of jokes.

Right now you were watching Joost as you and your friends wandered through the streets of Vancouver. You were laughing as Joost walked backwards in front of you, his arms gesturing around wildly as he talked about an idea he had for a music video. You watched his steps intently as you already noticed this to be a risky situation for the clumsy man. You breathed a sigh of relief as Joost dropped the antics and decided to turn around to walk normally again. But as he did, you could only watch as he tripped over the seam of his long pants and fell on the concrete.

"Oh shit," your friends around you exclaimed. "Jooooost," they started to laugh as they realised that he must be not seriously hurt.

Joost sat down on the pavement, his legs bent at an angle and his hands behind him to prop himself up. You kneeled down between his legs to check on him.

"Are you alright?" you asked concerned.

"Yeah," Joost tried to press out a convincing laugh but you could see in his eyes that he must be either hurt or embarrassed by his fall - or maybe a mix of both. When you looked Joost in the eyes you saw him evading your gaze and for a second you were scared that he might start crying. You were glad that your friends didn't seem to pay much attention to the both of you since it was no news to see you lost in your own little world.

"Are you hurt? Let me see," you said and tried your best to be comforting for Joost.

Joost looked down at his hands to inspect them and you noticed a few scratches on one of his fingers. The phone he was holding in his hand was also shattered since Joost didn't use any protective phone cases.

"It's fine," Joost said unconvincingly.

"No, that sucks," you reaffirmed his feelings and softly touched his knee. Joost winced with a smile and you looked down to where your hand just touched. A small spot of red was bleeding through Joost's jeans where he must have scratched his knee during the fall. "Oh, I'm sorry," you said, instead caressing the side of his knee now. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" you said cheekily, right back with your flirty banter you two were so well accustomed to.

"Are you taking the piss out of me?" Joost asked with a pout.

"No, never," you tried to reassure him. "I'm serious," you said and reached into your bag to pull out a pack of tissues. You grabbed the bottom seam of Joost's jeans and looked at him for confirmation before he nodded. Your friends were still not paying much attention to you down on the floor as they instead talked and joked among themselves. You pulled Joost's jeans up until his bleeding knee was exposed. Using one of the tissues you carefully dabbed at the wound to remove the blood. Joost winced at the contact again. "I'm sorry," you said as you were finished.

After one moment of hesitation, you leaned down and pressed a light kiss on the skin of Joost's knee just above the scratch. You looked at Joost and saw a shy smile creeping up on his face so you decided to leave three other kisses on his knee for good measure.

"Better?" you asked.

"Yes, so much better," he said grinning.

"Is there anywhere else you're hurting?" you asked, feeling courageous.

"Here," Joost said and showed you the scratch on his hand which you had inspected earlier.

You carefully took his hand into yours and also cleaned off the blood using the tissue. Joost's hand wrapped around yours as you pulled it towards you until you also pressed a few gentle kisses around the fresh wound.

"Anywhere else?" you asked as you looked at Joost.

"Here," he said quietly and pointed to his lips. Your heart started racing.

"I don't see any scratches there," you teased. You wished you were alone in this moment and nobody would be here to see or interrupt.

"But I'm hurting," Joost said with a pout and you smiled.

Fuck it, you thought.

You leaned forward and cupped his cheek with one of your hands. Joost rested one hand on your waist. You made sure to plant the most gentle, sweetest and loving kiss on Joost's lips. As you leaned back again you both looked at each other and you wondered if this was one of those times when you would show each other affection or say something sickly sweet about the other person under the guise of it just being a joke. Something in Joost's eyes gave you the feeling that this might be different actually, that the both of you were earnest this time. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you decided to go in for another kiss, a second kiss you definitely couldn't play up for laughs anymore. It was longer and deeper and you could feel Joost leaning into you.

"Hey, look at Joost and (Y/N)!" Apson shouted in delight as your friends finally noticed what the two of you were up to.

You pulled away from Joost who looked at you biting down on his lips to hide a grin. You offer your hand to Joost as you get up and help him get up as well. The both of you just ignored the bickering around you as your friends tried to pry into what just happened. Instead, you just continued your path down to wherever you were going anyway. As you walk beside each other you take notice that Joost never let go of your hand, still firmly fitting around yours.

[slutforgarlogan]

"You can check if you like" | Peter Maximoff x F! Reader

Summary: Peter comes back from a mission with a wound and you patch him up. He takes the opportunity to tease you.

Warnings: nsfw content, fingering, teasing, Peter being a cocky asshole

"Oh my god what happened to you?" you jump up from your seat when the team gets back from their mission, noticing the bleeding coming from your boyfriends head. You'd be lying if you said he didn't look hot all bloodied up, but you were too concerned with his wellbeing to indulge in the urge to make out with him.

Peter gives you his usual cocky smile, ignoring your concern "I'm fine babe, its just a scratch." You aren't convinced, but you know he wont go back on the statement, ever the cocky bitch despite his constant dramatics. You raise an eyebrow at him to indicate you dont believe him, "Please just let me look at it anyway"

Peter rolls his eyes and groans, smiling at you playfully while he does so - but he doesn't protest and takes you to one of the bathrooms with a fwip.

Though he does that all the time, you never expect it - and the speed always makes you feel ill and disoriented. You take a second to ground yourself, before getting the first aid things out of the bathroom cabinet to sort him out, and speaking to him as you rifle through it. "You're okay everywhere else yeah, nothing got through your suit?"

"You can check if you like" His tone is suggestive and he wiggles his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes at his answer - taking that as a no. He watches you for a second, and then sits down on the closed toilet lid before you have the chance to tell him to.

You move to stand in front of him, subconsciously situating yourself between his legs where he was practically manspread, and you push his goggles onto the top of his head, trying to make sure his hair stays tucked under them and out the way. The cut looks deep, and you wince a little thinking about it. You lock eyes with him as you pick up a little cotton pad and alcohol to clean the wound - you've done this a fair few times and he knows the drill, but you warn him regardless. "It's gonna sting a second Quickie"

You press the alochol soaked cotton pad on the wound, making sure to be gentle, and Peter grips onto the nearest thing when you do so, which happens to be your thigh. The feel of his hand on you shoots to your core immediately, and your breath hitches for half a second before you catch yourself and ignore it. You keep cleaning the wound, eventually moving on to clean the dried blood around it, and Peters leg is bouncing as he starts to get bored and restless.

You lock eyes with him and lean back a second. "Peter, sit still, find something in here to distract yourself im nearly done i promise" There's a certain look in his eye when he looks at you, and you can see an idea forming in his head, and you worry slightly what ridiculous idea you've accidentally caused him to have, but you get back to what you're doing anyway.

As you grab a roll of bandaid and scissors to cut it down to fit the wound, you feel a hand at the top of your thigh, fingers hooking into your panties to get them down a little - you try to ignore it and focus on finishing what you're doing, holding the roll up unrolling a little bit to see how much you need.

You hear a little cocky laugh from Peter as his finger prods at your folds and you could have ripped his suit off him there and then. But you try not to react, steadying your breathing before you look at him. "Whats funny"

He looks up at you, a shit eating grin on his face. "You're so wet and i haven't even touched you"

A pink shade dusks over your cheeks as you roll your eyes, in your head you know exactly what made you wet, but you know he'll poke fun at you for it so you don't tell him. "Shut up"

You cut a bit of a bandaid off the roll, big enough to fit the wound, and as you do so, he slides a finger into you, thrusting it in and out at a painfully slow pace - but he doesnt take long to slide a second finger in. He is still in his suit, and the gloves of the suit feel weird. The feeling is foreign but good. Your breathing goes a bit shaky as you try to concentrate, putting the roll down and picking up the bit you cut off, flipping it around to peel the back off, struggling a little fiddling with it.

Peter speeds up his fingers, curling them inside you to hit the spot that makes you whine a little, earning the same shit eating grin as before as he makes sure to keep hitting that spot. He brings his other hand to circle your clit as you finally get the back off the band aid, and you moan out as he draws figure 8's over the sensitive bud. "Fuckk Peter"

You stick the band-aid over the wound carefully but quickly, placing your hands on his shoulders as soon as you're done, breathing heavily and whimpering a bit. "Peter please"

He speeds up the finger on your clit, practically vibrating it and you moan loudly, legs shaking as you try hold yourself up properly and your walls clench around his fingers a little.

Thats when he stops. You look at him with pleading eyes "What the fuck"

He laughs a little "You've finsihed patching me up"

You look at him dumbfounded and annoyed, you open your mouth to protest but he speaks before you.

"You wanna check under my suit now?"

[kawoala]

⁝ KUROO TETSURO 𝜗𝜚 boxer! kuroo 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 851

ᰔ content warning ; profanity 、 blood 、 boxer! kuroo 、 implied rich girl! reader 、 kindof poor boy x rich girl? 、 boxer! lev 、 mention of gambling?? (yaku, what r u doing my brother?).

you’ve never been to a club like this; the people here are a stark contrast to your personality.

whereas they are dark, broody, drugged-out criminals probably raised in trailer parks and trap houses, you were raised to be a good girl with perfect grades - and to never, ever go near drugs or alcohol.

whereas the people around you are dirty, wearing clothes they probably haven’t changed in a week, you’re careful of the people around you, careful not get dirt and muck on your very expensive shirt and your very tiny skirt.

but, you fell in love with kuroo.

four months ago, when your calculus teacher had shown interest in kuroo’s horrible math grades, she’d emailed you, asking if you would be able to tutor him until his grades improved. and of course you said yes because you’re a sucker for extra credit.

and then he was charming and he was funny and he was smart - something you hadn’t expected because, well, you were his tutor. every time you had a session, he made you laugh like it was his job.

so, of course you fell in love with him. and of course you only found out that he was in an illegal boxing ring until after you had confessed to him.

which is how you ended up here; standing in a crowd of criminals, watching your boyfriend beat the shit out of one of his friends for fun.

your brows are furrowed as lev - of all people - throws a right hook, resulting in a line of blood dribbling down kuroo’s upper lip. he’s hot, that’s for certain, but this is not making you happy. your boyfriend's pretty face is getting all messed up.

you blink and then lev is on the floor, sitting with his legs bent, forearms resting against his knees. there’s a smile on his face, despite the blood oozing from his… mouth? nose? you can’t even tell.

and then your eyes drift to kuroo, who’s holding his fists up in victory. you briefly note that they’re not even using gloves, but that thought is dismissed when you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

he’s bleeding, which would make you upset if he didn’t look so fucking hot. there’s a sheen of sweat covering his whole body, shining in the overhead light. his hair is messy - messier than usual, matted to his forehead from sweat. he still has his mouthguard in, but he’s grinning wide as ever. he points to you and winks and your knees are weak.

“lev lost!” yaku exclaims from beside you, knocking you from your trance. you turn to him and tilt your head. “he fucking lost! oh my god, i just lost so much money.”

he puts his head in his hands and curses again, which only makes you laugh. you can’t believe this is a thing that people bet on. and, no offense, but you can’t believe people bet on lev winning.

next thing you know, you’re sitting on a bench in the locker room of the grimy club, bouncing your leg as you watch kuroo unwrap his fists. your eyes are glued to his hands, bloodied and bruised.

“did you have fun?”

you look up to find him staring down at you, lazy smirk on his face. “what? o- oh, um, yeah, it was…” you trail off, eyes drifting down to your now ruined shoes. you hum. “it was kind of… scary, actually.” you can hear him stop moving, so you keep talking. “watching you get hit like that? yeah, that sucked. i mean, don’t get me wrong, you looked really fucking hot, but…” you shrug, sighing.

there’s a silence that hangs in the air. you can tell he’s trying to decide if he should be funny or genuine.

“y/n,” he says slowly. his shoes come into your field of vision, but you know if you look up, you’ll probably start crying. “hey, come on, sweets, look at me.”

as soon as you look up, his hands cup your face and he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

when he pulls away, he smiles softly. “i’m okay. you know that right?” you nod and he laughs, pulling you into a hug, smashing your face into his stomach. “i’m okay. you hear me, lady? i’m alright.”

you laugh now, too, pushing away from him playfully. “ugh, i hate you!” you exclaim as he loosens his grip. the smile on his face lets you know that he knows you don’t really mean it. and, of course, you don’t.

he stares at you for a moment longer before jerking his head towards the door. “come on, let’s get out of here. we can go get ice cream or something.”

“ice cream?” you repeat, raising a brow. you stand up, not even reaching his nose. “and what are we going to do when the worker sees your busted lip and freshly bruised eye, hm?”

he inhales, puffing his chest out, holding his breath. he exhales on a laugh, throwing his arm over your shoulders. “yeah, we’ll go through the drive-thru, ‘kay?”

[nina-ya]

Patching up Sanjis Wounds

Zoro Law Sanji Shanks Ace Luffy Sabo Doflamingo Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: Blood mentions, light wound descriptions, Sanji being a little flirty shit as usual. WC: 756

The chances that the love cook would take a huge hit for you and leave you to be the one to patch him up are high, and unfortunately this exact scenario just unfolded. Sanji is currently sprawled out in front of you after taking a major hit for you, bleeding from every place imaginable. The bleeding from his nose is most likely from the fact that you’re currently compressing some of the cuts on his chest so they can clot and those lovesick eyes he is directing towards you is practically confirming your suspicions. “Why did you do that?! Do you know how reckless that was?!” You practically yell at him as you scramble to help him. “I always help a lady in need, especially you~” he slurs out. You can’t tell if he’s love drunk or has lost too much blood based on the way he’s speaking. You roll your eyes at his response and start unbuttoning his shirt to take a better look at his wounds. He seems to light up at your touch. “Mademoiselle, I didn’t think this would be how our first time would go. I imagined preparing a lovely dinner fir-“ You groan loudly. “Sanji! With all due respect, this is not what you think it is. Get your mind out of the gutter and tell me where it hurts.”

He pouts when you shoot his advances down. “It hurts right here,” he says, guiding your your hand over his heart. Before you scold him again for his flirtation at this inappropriate time, you see the deep red that has enveloped his chest and you gasp softly. Sanji's injury is much worse than you initially thought, and the sight of the deep red seeping from his chest was enough to fill you with concern. You hold back your frustration and focus on the task at hand. "Sanji, where else does it hurt?" He winces and lets out a heavy sigh, his usual confident demeanor momentarily fading as he admits, "Everywhere, honestly." You fight back the pang of frustration and set your focus on treating him. "Alright, let's get you patched up. But seriously, Sanji, no more of your romantic fantasies right now. We need to stop this bleeding." As you work to remove his blood-soaked shirt, Sanji can't help but show his appreciation, although his pain is clear. "You have the gentle touch of an angel, ma belle." You can't help but let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Sanji, I'm trying to save your life here, not audition for a romance play." He manages a weak smile amidst his discomfort. "Sorry, it's just hard not to admire your beauty, even in the midst of all this." You smile slightly and focus on cleaning his wounds, and begin to wrap up some of the deeper gashes. Sanji winces and grits his teeth, but he doesn't complain about the pain. He seems to understand the gravity of the situation, and it has sobered him up, for the most part. “You know this was stupid, right?” You mutter softly, your voice filled with care. “Nothing is stupid when it comes to you.” he retorts. You let out a sigh. “Sanji, this was very stupid. If you had gotten more hurt than this, if you had… if you had died, I…” you trail off, suddenly becoming emotional. Your lip quivers as you try to focus on holding back tears so you can help him. Sanji sees your distress and lightly grabs your hand. “I will not die, not any time soon at least. I need to at least get a kiss from you before I can say I have lived a satisfied life.” You sniffle, your emotions still raw, but you manage a small laugh in response. “Yeah, well, I don't think ill be satisfied with just a kiss.” Sanjis' blue eyes sparkle with longing and a grin spreads across his face. “Oh? Do tell what it is you had in mind.” He says cheekily. Your laughter fills the air and affection floods your voice. “Hey, lets get you to Chopper first, okay?” You say, finalizing the wrapping of the wounds. “But for now, I will leave you with this.” Leaning in, you press a kiss to his lips. Its a tender and affectionate kiss, conveying all the emotions you had been suppressing: relief, gratitude, and an undeniable connection between you two. Sanjis' Lips were warm and warm and welcoming, and for that moment, you can forget about the chaos of the world around you two.