#i’m running wild with thoughts i need to know all of this

[bunniesanddeer]

Hi,

Just recently found your stories! I love how you write Alastor! I have a request and I apologize if its long.

Reader arrives at the hotel and unbeknownst to everyone they can see people’s pasts, mainly their earthly lives, once they touch them. Which usually isn’t a problem until she meets Alastor. They see his past as well as the fact that his soul is owned by a mysterious entity.

As time goes by, Alastor and reader form something of a friendship and he can sense reader is powerful and repeatedly tries to get them into a soul deal. One evening while at the bar, he’s trying to make a deal when reader, somewhat drunk, states “no power I have can help you with your deal.”

One of those “oh shit” moments and reader runs only to get caught by a very agitated Alastor. They explain how they know and don’t know who the deal is with etc trying to calm him down. He realizes they have known this whole time and not spoken of it so he feels he can trust them.

Sorry sorry sorry this longer then it sounded in my head!

Hi! Sorry this took so long! So much has happened, and yet so little. In the middle of trying to buy a home, and my full-time job has been kicking my butt. Sorry if this is OOC, or anything like that. I have been having a hard time writing at all!

Everything

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Mild horror.

Word Count: 2,093

Maybe it was the psychology degree. Maybe it was that strange empathy that had been instilled into you as a survival response. Either way, you don’t know what caused it; when you ended up in Hell, because of course you did, you found out you had a strange ability, one that startled you. At a single touch, the entirety of someone’s life was made known to you; all their secrets, their thoughts, and even their afterlife. Their lives were heavy burdens, and so you settled on wearing gloves. You could minimize the damage to your psyche, and to your soul, if you avoided it entirely. No one would find out, if there was no risk of you using it.

Time was hard to measure in Hell, and so you couldn’t tell how long it took you to find a comfortable, enough, routine in Hell. You wore soft gloves, and only took them off when alone, or when they got soiled. You had a job, and you were living a boring rerun of your life on Earth. That was until you saw the advertisement for the “Hazbin Hotel”, looking for employees. You recalled the Princess, Charlie, making a fool of herself on the news only a few months prior. She was endearing, and the reminder and call for employees drew your attention. Without thinking too hard on it, your decision had been unconsciously made. You were going to apply. 

The main lobby was large, and had family portraits of the royal family hung on the wall. There was a bar and couches on the far side of the room. There was no one but the bartender in the room. The grumpy cat at the bar drew your eyes, and so you made your way to him. 

“Ah, hello?” You called to him, trying not to startle him. 

Sharp pupils lazily flickered towards you, and the cat-man let out a grunt. 

“I’m here to maybe, apply for a position here,” you continued. You extended a hand and introduced yourself. “I was a therapist, and although it has been some time-”

“I don’t care. You’ll be talkin’ to Charlie,” the bartender interrupted, taking a swig of his drink. “She probably already knows you’re here.”

Sure enough, a white blur was bounding down the steps, exuberance filling every part of  her form. “Oh hello! Hello! My name is Charlie,” she said, grabbing at one of your hands and shaking your whole body with her handshake. “You said you were a therapist?”

Now that she had settled into being mostly still, you could make out her features better. She had blonde hair, loosely tied, and cherub cheeks. Her large eyes were filled with such wild hope, that you feared ever needing to tell her ‘no’. This was the Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar. 

“Uh, yes, I was!” You try to match her tone, and notice other people filling into the lobby. “I specialized in correctional counselor. I worked with those in the prison system, trying to help them avoid recidivism. Along with programs in the prison, we helped them acclimate back to civilian life, and keep their records clean! I also worked with some after they left.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Oh wow! That would be PERFECT.” You watch her smile grow, and she turns to the woman that was now standing next to her. “You hear that, Vaggie? This is great, right?”

Although you were hesitant, this felt like the right move. So with a little forced pep to your step, you accepted the offer she made only minutes later, and joined the Hazbin Hotel team. That was before you realized Alastor was there. 

Months into your stay was the first time you accidentally touched anyone. You had been in your room, organizing some of your things, when Alastor barged in, yelling about some Angel Dust annoying him. The two of you had a weird friendship going. He would poke and prod you, and you would laugh it off and speak your mind about what you thought was ‘wrong’ about him — all in good fun, of course. Because of your general comfort with each other, he liked to barge into your personal space more and more often, and it had led to a few close calls. Now, though, was far too close. You weren't wearing gloves, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“My dear, you simply must tell Angel Dust that his attempts at wooing are preposterous!” Alastor flipped you around so you were facing him. “He has no musical talent at all, I’m sure! How would it ever work?”

You scrunched up your face, and stared up at him. His bright red pupils widened as you laughed. “Al, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, what fooey!” Alastor grabbed at your hand before you could pull it away, and it happened. Everything. All the terrible words and looks in his childhood. His mother’s soft smile, and her softer hands cupping his face as tears rolled down his cheeks. Angry voices telling him to leave. The cool feeling of metal under his hands. Warm liquid pooling beneath his feet. The chains wrapped around his throat. The abject hate he felt. The way every single choice he made had to be done precisely. The spark of joy he had to smother around people he loosely defined as friends. The control he desired like smoke in his hands. And then it was gone, and Alastor was giving you an odd look. 

“Are you alright, dear?” His head cocked, and the static that constantly coated his words quieted down. His thumb rubbed across your bare skin once, before he pulled his hand away from you, letting it clasp around his microphone. 

“Uh, yeah. Zoned out there, for a moment. No worries,” you said, trying to discourage his well-known prodding. You couldn’t handle it, right now. You shrugged your shoulders. “I didn’t get much sleep, last night, I’m sorry.”

When he finally let it go, and went back to his ranting, your mind slowed down. Now that it had happened, it was only a matter of time before something slipped. Would you die, because of what you knew? Would his master order him to slaughter you, or would he do it happily himself? Or would he use you, thinking that your power could save him, when the inevitable confrontation occurred?

You could only worry and wonder. There was nothing you could do to change it now. And so you kept your mouth shut, and waited.

The inexorable fate that awaited you, came weeks later, when the staff had settled in together to drink. Angel Dust was working, Sir Pentious had squirreled himself away in his room, and Charlie and Vaggie were out having ‘date-night’. The group, including Alastor, were several drinks in. 

Husk poured Alastor another drink, rolling his eyes at the Radio Demon’s antics. Alastor was telling a wild tale, and it had you and Niffty cackling, although it seemed she had heard it before.

“And just as he turns back to yell at me, he slips, and falls! Splat! Straight onto the concrete!” Alastor lets out a raving cackle. Niffty giggles, her drink splashing a bit as her whole body shakes. You wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, and try to calm your breathing.

“That is so fucked up, Al. Why?” You wheeze. “Why do you do this?”

“Because-” and he hiccups, which sets you off into more giggling. “Because life is a tragedy, and tragedy is hilarious.” He sets his drink down, and slots himself onto your seat, squishing you as he does. “As you know, my dear, I take quite a liking to anything that makes me laugh.”

He’s incredibly drunk, there is no way he isn’t, because he fucking taps your nose with one red claw, and mutters “Boop”, under his breath. You shake your head, feeling like you’ve drank more than you had. Your eyes feel the tiniest bit fuzzy and you laugh at the strangeness of it. 

“Are you alright, Al?” You ask, scooting over just a little, trying to get him off of your hip. “You seem out of it.”

Husk grunts, “He’s always like that with whiskey and rye. Should’a seen him a couple years ago-” His voice cuts off, and you look over to see the death glare Alastor is giving him. It settles when the bartender stays quiet with an eye roll. “Oh, whatever.”

Alastor hums, and then returns to looking at you. “You know, my dear, I could really help you out, down here, if we were to make a deal! Imagine setting up your own little clinic, and helping all the wayward souls down here!” He giggles again, and his smile widens. “Or you could manipulate them all to do your bidding with your strange mind medicine!” 

You shake your head. “C’mon Al, you know I’m not interested in that.”

Alastor shakes his head, his ears flopping back a little. “Then not that! There is plenty I could give you, for just one, little deal!”

Without thinking, you mutter, “I have no power that can help you with your deal, Al.” 

Your heart stops in your chest, and you stare at Alastor as his entire demeanor changes. His eyes are wide, and his pupils are tiny pinpricks of light in his dark sclera. His hand grips at the arm of the couch, and you know you’ve fucked up. Before he can say anything, you dart up, and out of the lounge. 

With the sudden surge of adrenaline, you feel nearly sober. Your feet pound at the floor as you dash down the hall, and up the stairs as quickly as you can manage. You slide around a corner, and sprint down a hallway before you hear the static. 

The normal white noise has been replaced with a thick static, heavy with screams, and the hall is getting dark. It feels as if the torches on the wall are being snuffed out, even though you can see them still softly glowing in the dark. Your heart pounds, and your breath catches as you hear Alastor’s music playing at a distance. He’s not nearly far enough behind. Is there anywhere in the hotel you could even hide?

It doesn’t matter, because he’s right behind you in only seconds. His form has grown enormous, and he takes up the entirety of the hallway. One large hand stabilizes him by pressing against the wall, and the other wraps around your torso, fingers wrapping around your form easily. He squeezes you, just enough to let you know how much power he has over you, and he brings you level to his face.

“How do you know?” His voice is rough, and deep, and the static and screams re making your head hurt. When you don’t immediately answer, he squeezes just a little, and shakes you. “HOW DO YOU KNOW?” 

You let out a rough sob. “I can just tell. If I-” your voice cuts out as you cough from the previous exertion. “If I touch someone, I know just about everything about them, from their mortal life, to here in Hell.” Tears roll down your face, and you heave. “I tried to avoid touching you! It’s why I wear gloves! But you caught me off guard a few weeks ago!”

Alastor’s gaze doesn’t waver, but his expression does, just a little. You keep talking.

“I didn’t tell anyone, and I wouldn’t! That goes so far against my morals. You know that. Haha. Patient confidentiality.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I wish I could have prevented it, and I wish I could help you now that I know, but I can’t!”

Your form is set on the ground, and you want to curl up, so badly, but you don’t. Instead, you open your eyes, and see Alastor, at his normal size, adjusting himself. 

“Yes, well, I suppose there’s nothing to be done.” He flicks his eyes to you. “If you say anything, ever, I’ll gut you, do you understand?”

You merely nod, and he nods in return. He takes a breath, and then offers you a hand, and you take it. 

He gives you a sly smile, as you are wiping your face off with his handkerchief. “I’ll get a deal out of you, yet, my dear!” And he says nothing more, as the two of you make your way back downstairs. 

You hope, with everything you are, that he doesn’t.

Thank you for reading! My taglist is pinned on my page. I will try to have the two other requests I'm working on out soon! Sorry for the wait. Having a chronic illness, a job, and house huntng is hard, haha!

Taglist: @wen01203 @alastorssimp @girl-nahh-two @numetalnerd2007 @justchillingandhavingfun @alastorssimp @wen01203 @lemonyboy97 @fairyv-ice

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #bun's short fics #alastor fanfiction #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic

[nights-at-crystarium]

Fragments - episodes 36-40 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

I didn’t need to spend so much screentime on Titania fight, yet it was a fun personal challenge. I’d never written/drawn a cohesive fight scene before. The scripted ingame instances don’t leave much room for imagination, I wanted to stay away from the fourth wall, and make up a more immersive scene. How do you even make it look mildly interesting? You’d think, well, characters will just flail at each other until one of them dies, right?

So yeah the biggest challenge was creating the ebb and flow. What affects Vivi’s actions? Why wouldn’t he just murder Titania like any other opponent, and be done with it? I threw in a generous amount of inner pov (that I previously used very sparingly) and some silly tricks. The stakes are high, yes, it’s a Lightwarden vs WoD encounter, but Titania still retains their playful personality above all else. Vivi's here just to do his job, but he also knows that he's dealing with a fae.

The msq makes Titania stand out among other wardens, I capitalized on that and hc’d that they’re important to Feo Ul, and, by proxy, to Vivi. That instantly provided some emotional stakes, and an answer to why he doesn’t rush to kill them out of the door.

Vivi enters the castle in episode 35, and mostly runs in circles, analyzing his enemy, and even falls victim to illusions. This could’ve been it for him, but I daresay it worried none of us because we’re just at the beginning of a story about this guy, he’s THE guy in this universe not for no reason, he’ll manage.

No deep meaning behind "grasshopper", I just thought it's a bizarrely precise descriptor of both Vivi's long legs and dragoon jumps, and it fits the natural theme of the fight.

Vivi didn’t go in unprepared.

This line will be relevant again in like, 5-7 years from now :’>

More under the cut~

He always, always doubts everything, especially when it comes to his level of power. Self-nerfing. A light (heh) case of an impostor syndrome.

Everyone loved the bonk for meme reasons, Vivi simply bought himself some time to cast.

The Rainbow Sparkles of Believing in Yourself! And of something else, perhaps. I’m planting quite a bit of stuff for future, this one should take a mere year or so to pay off.

I hope this pose’s enough of a hint that you shouldn't be taking episode 37 too seriously.

Yes, he used his spear to ~cast~. And took a sailormoon pose. This's his, monoclass dragoon’s, interpretation of what the caster magic’s probably like.

Offscreen, Titania comes to their senses and shrills “so you wanna play rough?!”, Vivi ignores them, concerned with only one thing: did he succeed? How did the test of his custom spell go?

It only worked out because the both of them are idiots.

I like to emphasize that Fragments isn’t about retelling the msq, or big epic battles, but here, where I actually put my heart into it, I feel like I managed to pull off at least one epic beat you’d typically see in an action-focused comic. Super proud of this panel ;w;

This’s a standard panel divider I’ve used multiple times before, but it couldn’t be more visually appropriate here :3c

So, to recap. Vivi asks Titania if they miss the night sky. They do. Vivi brings the night sky to them, and lo, something actually happens. I illustrated this “something” as one of their eyes getting sort of cleansed here. This story suddenly takes a mahou shoujo (shounen, heh) turn, I appreciate that it may cause some eyebrows to raise, but I think it’s okay to take creative liberties like this in a story themed around identity, agency, and believing in yourself. If Titania’s so strong as to retain a tiny bit of their old self, to cohesively partake in a simple convo, then why can’t they return, even if for a brief moment, given the proper assistance.

An appropriate reaction to the wild bs that’s going on. Imagine inventing the tale of WoD in the First, only to witness THIS.

As about Vivi, he can save a soul when he genuinely cares for it. We haven’t seen him do this before. He does it for Feo Ul explicitly, implicitly as a self-reflection. He’s projecting so hard after realizing that Titania looks like him. He wishes for them what he'd wish for himself: to rest, to be treated with care and consideration. They don't only look like him, they're also unfree, tortured by something. Empathy or not, this’s the kindest fight Vivi’s ever fought.

I’m iffy about the canon talents that come with the Echo. You can understand any sentient creature, okay. What happens when you speak, does the other party feel the difference between that soulspeak and their native tongue? Does it feel off? Does it offend? I incorporated my own misgivings into Vivi’s thoughts about his Echo. He doesn't use soulspeak here out of respect and concern that Titania might not react well to it, throwing the entire plan out of the window. Thus he memorized quite a bit of fae words before the fight. This’s his way to mark himself as one of their people, or at least to show that he truly cares.

STAY TUNED FOR EPISODE 41

Vivien Doubter Rell. Also yay first nod!

Embracing his new duty, and possibly giving Titania the hug they deserve.

Look HE’S OKAY. For now. I just thought the hiccup would be a cute way to acknowledge the terrible power he’s just absorbed. The canon cutscene moves on unblinking, but here’s different.

Bracing himself for confrontation. Things might go awry. Or might not. Vivi doesn't know. Worst case scenario: this’s the end of his sweet lil friendship with Feo Ul. Do they like him, or a Titania-lookalike in him?

“Oh bugger...” big pets come with big responsibilities, my dear Feo Ul.

Just to reinforce his fae-ness.

Vivi had full control in this fight. Analyzed the enemy, successfully tested some crazy tricks, managed to have a heart-to-heart that resulted in getting a permission to kill Titania not with violence, but with mercy. So much could’ve gone wrong, but just didn’t. Vivi’s used to this, even if he constantly doubts everything, this’s how it always goes. He’s being flung at tasks with abysmal odds, somehow he emerges victorious.

I just like this panel so much okay.

This arc may feel slow, but it gives depth to Vivi and Feo Ul's relationship, and seeing them together in later episodes will spark even more joy.

Even after a warm moment they’d just shared, Vivi’s still wary. I broke out an analysis of what external influence, pressure to change means to him, please read this post if you missed it. YEAH TAGS AS WELL.

His expression here is an attempt to downplay the anxiety and swing the odds in his favor. What if Feo Ul insists and throws a tantrum? What if he has to become Titania right now, and there’s no way around this? Let’s make puppy eyes just incase, maybe that helps.

One more personal fav panel. There’s SO MUCH in this look. They’re on a threshold, about to become something else on Vivi’s behalf. Because they love him so much. They’ve instantly become friends because they don’t want anything from each other, just the company. Feo Ul’s such a breath of fresh air for Vivi, a new hope in a new world, where he’s (comparatively) a nobody, where people still have the potential to love him for who he is as a person. This’s why our crimson pixie gets so much screentime.

Vivi really said XD

The next few episodes wrap up the Il Mheg arc, and focus on good vibes and celebration. ShB follows a rollercoaster formula where it makes you smile at something nice and sweet only to whack you in the face right after, and I’m trying to do the same :3c

As always, thanks for reading~

#ffxiv #feo ul #vivien rell #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙖’𝙨 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙆𝙕:

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 — 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 514

𝙖/𝙣: i really hope this is good…

𝙩/𝙬: rough tickles

𝒍𝒆𝒆: chan

𝙡𝙚𝙧: reader

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

honestly wreck him until he dies 

a lot of the time chan believes he’s the tough leader

drive those thoughts away with tickle time! 

wreck his sides they’re wayyy too sensitive to leave alone 

rough tickles for this leader! 

“Channie~” Your voice wafted through the air, a sultry sweet lilt accompanying it. 

Chan gulped and burrowed deeper into the blankets, clasping his hands over his eyes. 

Despite being the leader, and in his case, one of the stronger members of the group, the second you manage to get your hands on him, he’s weak to your touch like putty. 

You enter the room he’s in; there’s no way he was getting out of this one. 

It had started with him just trying to play a prank on you. It was April Fool’s Day after all, and he played pranks on all the members every year. 

Now that his little prank had managed to fail, you were now practically hunting him down in the house, ready to give him the wrecking of a lifetime. 

“Found ya.” He felt your weight on his back and hands were suddenly squeezing his sides through the blanket. 

Chan squealed and threw his arms back to try and catch your hands, letting out small giggles. 

Thankfully, the blanket shielded his body from your hands, allowing him to try and fight back. 

“Don’t try to fight it.” You demanded, managing to throw the blanket off of him and squeezing at his sides harshly. 

Chan screamed as your fingers massaged deep into the muscle of his sensitive sides, cackles shooting from his lips and his head flying back into the pillow. 

“NOHOHOHO!! PLEHEHEHEASE IHIM SOHOHOHORRY!!” He laughed, his cute dimples showing and making you smile. 

“I know, and I’m not stopping.” You retort, struggling to pin his arms down and resorting to digging into his thighs instead. 

Channie shrieked and laughed cutely, twisting around involuntarily and trying to shove you off. 

“DOHOHOHON’T!!” He yelped when you massaged playfully at his underarms, and the leader clamped his arms to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“What a strong leader! Turns out he can’t even handle the tickles.” You tease lowly, and he screamed flusteredly. “IHI CAHAN HANANDLE IHIT!!” 

You gasp. “What a little liar.” You leaned down and pressed your lips to his side, blowing out as loud and hard as you can. 

“AGGHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOHOHOHOHOP!!”

“Do you still think you can handle it?~” More raspberries follow. 

“YEHEHEHEHES!!” 

Clearly, you needed to go rougher. Your fingers pressed cruelly into his ribs, squeezing the area wildly and watching him howl and thrash hard enough to shake the whole bed.

Tears of mirth slipped down his face, and his laughter went silent for a few seconds before coming back louder and wilder.

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAHANT HAHANDLE IHIHIHIT!!” He finally urged, and you let go of him, rolling off of him after slapping his butt twice. 

He panted and began to run after you, making you shriek as he managed to catch you around the waist. 

Maybe a tickle fight on Sunday wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

released in honor of one year knowing @jeonginsdiary, the first tk creator ive ever talked to 🥺💗

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #sana’s guide to wrecking skz #lee!chan #ler!reader

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 11

chapter 20:

1. god, i’m glad to know this bridge plan is stressing sirius out too

2. i love sirius’ pure ANGER at how reg and james’ love story is broadcasted to everyone when sirius knows that they deserve privacy.

3. 😟😧 is peter going to be a

FUCKING RAT

IN THIS FIC???? FUCK HIM FUCK YOU FUCK ALL OF YOU!! I LOVED HIM!! WHY DID HE HAVE TO DO THIS??? NOOOOOO

4. 😡😡 PETER AND DEATHEATERS, WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, ISTG

5. 😧 vanity noooo

6. 😟 hodge would have turned 15 tomorrow. and james just pushed him in the river. fuck, well, that’s something james is gonna think about forever

7. i am NOT gonna get over vanity’s death

8. reg’s knife throwing skills came into use and yikes. i wish it didn’t have to

9. (bad timing, but nonbinary mathias has my heart)

10. oh god. irene asked regulus to give her mercy and kill her. this. wow. this hurts in ways i can’t describe.

11. everyone is fucking dying, and james just got hurt, and reg is trapped on the other side of the river. jfc this chapter is wild

12. reg, you’re having a panic attack. i understand those. listen to me and jsut follow my voice and breathe with me, okay? in and out. 1…. 2…. 3…. 4…. good. breathe please. i wanna help so bad. please i wish i could help reg breathe.

13. god, it’s hurts that in sirius’ pov, he knows that this is the biggest breakdown reg has EVER had

14. sirius, don’t do something stupid

chapter 21:

1. 😧 THIS is how the plan is formed? sirius talking to slughorn about two victors making it out as long as they’re from the same district? wow. i was almost looking forward to the death pact, while also knowing it would be out of reg’s character (and james’) so it would be unsatisfying. i like this a lot, actually

2. dorcas leaving her home in the most ratty-ass pajamas to run four miles 😭😭 she’s still a queen to me

3. marlene’s reaction is heartbreaking, honestly

4. i love how there’s the line about dorcas caring for vanity and hodge. she cares. marlene asked her to, chapters and chapters ago. and dorcas cared. this hurts

5. 😟 regulus is so angry that he plans on avenging james with what i assume is the most torturous murder to others

6. !!!!! is reg about to take that hint from slughorn? does he realize james is alive?

7. HE REALIZES!!! THANK FUCKING GOD!!! THEYRE GONNA REUNITE AND HOPEFULLY HAVE NO TRAUMA FROM THIS HORRENDOUS DAY!

8. remus comparing sirius’ excitement about slughorn’s decision to a dog >>>>>>

9. “They watch with hope.” AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

10. sirius expects people to not listen to him, so he tells remus to just tune him out, but remus loves to hear sirius talk. <33333 they’re made for each other

11. sirius having worn a dress before and enjoying it >>>>>>>

12. “”Really, your body is a galaxy, and your scars are your stars."” (remus making sirius feel better about his scars) OH MY GOD!! this is gonna be my equivalent of atyd’s “you were beautiful”

13. remus’ shirt is off and sirius wants to cry over how gorgeous he is. (when i first had sex, i cried over how pretty my partner was. i do not judge sirius for this reaction)

14. the way remus gets his moony nickname in this fic, with his scars being compared to moon craters >>>>>>>>>

15. despite sirius wanting to have sex with remus, i love his decision to wait so he’s mentally in the right place for it. and i love remus’ treatment of sirius’ relationship to sex. that’s exactly what i, as an aroace spec person, needed to hear

16. i’m so fucking PISSED that the hallow took away sirius’ acceptance of pleasure. remus and i are gonna fucking take down the hallow for that

17. authors notes say that sirius is demisexual, and i am all on board. another demisexual!! me and sirius are twinning! i love this!!

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #fanfic #jegulus #sirius black #remus lupin #vanity #irene #peter pettigrew #dorcas x marlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #dorlene #moony #demisexual sirius black #crimson rivers

[sunarc]

Part 1 • Part 2

Pervy roommates who rub their cock to the sound of you fucking yourself in the next room. His hand squeezes his cock to the sound of your whimpers and he silently thanks God the walls are so thin. His mind drifts off to the image of you. You’re probably sprawled out on the bed with the cutest scrunched up face. He can see it now, your fingers pushed so deep into your hole fucking yourself desperate to reach the spot he knows he can easily touch. His cock twitches in his hand at the thought.

He presses a hand to his mouth to soak up the moans he’s struggling to hold in.

“Fuck” the word slips past his lips.

His hand grips the base of his cock stroking feverishly. He bucks his hips up into his hand and wonders if you may perhaps be listening to him fuck himself to your pretty sounds. Your moans are growing louder on the other side and he can only imagine the lewd thoughts running through your mind. You know what you're doing, riling him up like this. He can hear your breathless moans. If only you knew what he was doing right now.

“Don’t cum yet pretty” his voice is a low groan. “I bet your pretty little fingers are just covered in your juices hm”

He smirks when the image pops up in his mind. He wants it to be his cock covered in your cum. If only he could feel how tight you’d squeeze his cock when he dips it into that soaked hole of yours. He imagines how wild you’d go when he fucks you nice and slow. You’d probably beg him to speed up. He fucks his fist to the pace he images you to be going.

“Just like that baby” he’s so close “ Cum for me angel, make a mess for me”

He’s practically whimpering as he animalistically bucks his hips up into his fist. He can hear you loud and clear now. Your soft mewls are paired with the squelching sounds of your hole.

“That’s it baby, you can do it” he whines.

His face is flushed red and he knows he’d be embarrassed if you were to see him in such a position. He’s holding himself back. The tip of his cock is an angry red barely able to contain his cum but he’s dead set on waiting for you. He hears your soft whisper that you probably think only your ears can hear.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum” the words spill from your lips in a high pitched moan and it’s all he needs to hear before he’s spilling his own seed onto his hand.

He lays there twitching cock still in hand. A soft vibration comes from behind the wall and he chuckles to himself.

“Round two angel?” his thumb rubs the slit of his cock and sends shivers through his body. “Fingers weren’t enough i see”

His hand strokes his cock with a tight grip. “My cock would be more than enough baby”

Bokuto, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Toji, Matsukawa, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Sakusa

#bokuto x reader #atsumu x reader #suna x reader #gojo x reader #toji x reader #matsukawa x reader #tsukishima x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #sakusa x reader #bokuto smut #atsumu smut #suna smut #gojo smut #toji smut #matsukawa smut #tsukishima smut #oikawa smut #iwaizumi smut #sakusa smut

[coryosbaby]

Life Lessons

Synopsis: helping your best friend fuck your girl can’t be that weird, right?

♡ Content warning . Threesome, pnv, anal (f recieving), degradation, sub! Reader, switch! Coriolanus, dom! Sejanus, creampie, multiple orgasms

Notes: a lil switch! Bisexual! Coryo moment?! Maybe.

Sejanus is his best friend.

Coriolanus’ thoughts run wild with these words, and he thinks consistently and wonders incredibly why his best friend has allowed him to do this— or why Coriolanus himself agrees to this in the first place. Your thighs lay open, skirt and underwear discarded on the bedroom floor, as Coriolanus sits between them. Your cunt is achy and swollen, begging for a cock to fill it while Sejanus lays underneath you. His dick sits throbbing inside your ass as he waits for Coriolanus to slide himself into your wet heat. He waits patiently and coos into your ear as you squirm on him.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Give him some time, baby, okay? Coryo’s new to this, he’s learning.”

Yes, ladies and gentleman, you heard that right: Coriolanus Snow, the handsome, perfect, golden boy of the capital, is a virgin. And now, he’s letting his best friend’s girl pop his cherry.

And sure, his ego is deflating right now as he strokes his cock and watches Sejanus’ experience. He’ll get that ego back up, though, once he learns. He’ll make sure he outdoes Sejanus in every aspect— he’ll show him, alright.

He growls at that comment, perceived as a snide remark to the blonde even though Sejanus didn’t mean it that way. His cockhead drips with precum and he rubs over it with his thumb as he presses himself against your entrance.

“Shut up, Sejanus,” he grunts. “Know what I’m doing..”

And obviously, he doesn’t. His cock clumsily slips against your hole, making you whine and clench in an attempt to suck his cockhead into you. His chest heaves and he lets out a frustrated sound. But not before his brows furrow and he’s saying, “What are you doing?” to Sejanus as the other boy tries to reach out and touch his cock over your shoulder. He pulls his body out of reaching distance, and Sejanus rolls his eyes and attempts to grab him again. Coriolanus slaps his hand away, confusion glazing his features. Calmer now, Sejanus holds out his hand and his eyes grow soft as Coriolanus’ face flushes with embarrassment.

“Cmon,” Sejanus says. “Trust me, Coryo.”

And he does. He trusts him so much that he can’t have room to trust anyone else. So hesitantly, shyly, he grabs Sejanus’ fingers after a moment, and settles them around the base of his cock. He moves his hips forward as Sejanus easily finds your hole without even having to look. He presses the tip of Coryo’s cock into you, and his mouth falls open at the new sensation. You look up at him with doe eyes, and although your true love is Sejanus, you’re happy that you can help Coryo take what he needs.

“Fuck..” Coriolanus grunts, shaky, pressing himself further and further into you. “Is it always this…tight?”

Sejanus chuckles, lifting his hips as if remembering the feeling of your cunt.

“Always. Especially with her. She’s always grippin’ my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” And then after a moment, a small grunt sounds from him as he grips your ass cheeks in his hands. “Even back here.. still has such a tight little hole.”

Coriolanus groans, his hips rocking into you. His balls press against your skin, and he’s all the way inside now. But it feels so good, he doesn’t want to blow his load in the next five seconds, so he goes as slow as possible. You mewl against Sejanus as he begins to move, his cock pummeling your tight little asshole while Coryo begins to speed up his thrusts in your weepy cunt. He can’t help it, now. Your pussy feels too good.

Sejanus watches as Coryo grabs your thighs desperately with his hands, and smiles.

“That’s it. Fuck her just like that.”

And god, Coryo knows it’s fucked up but Sejanus’ approval just makes him even more desperate. He grunts as he watches your cunt swallow him whole.

“Coryo,” you cry out to him. “Please, hard. Wan’ it hard in my pussy, give it to me..”

Coryo becomes confident, a small chuckle leaving his lips.

“Yeah?” He whispers. He begins to pummel you, skin slapping skin, shoving his nose right into your neck, and he doesn’t care if he isn’t giving Sejanus room to move. All he’s thinking about is how good your walls feel wrapped around him. “Greedy bitch wants another guy’s cock in her tight little pussy?”

You moan, nodding your head yes, and sejanus’ hands wrap around your neck suddenly. His cock twitches in you, the sight of his girl getting fucked by his best friend turning him on a lot more than he cares to admit.

“Kiss him,” he breathes. “Kiss him, baby, let me see.”

And of course you obey, your lips colliding with Coriolanus’ desperately, your tongue scraping the roof of his mouth as throaty moans sound from him. His cock kicks, once, twice, and he’s cumming and it’s the greatest sensation he’s ever experienced in his life as he fills you up rope after rope with warm, sticky cum.

Looking down as his orgasm slows, he looks at your blissed out face, the sudden orgasm providing him satisfaction but not quite enough.

No, this isn’t enough at all. He needs to fuck you more, he needs to use you over and over until he trains himself to fuck you long and hard. He growls, grabbing your thighs and pushing your legs over your head as his sensitive cock moves inside you again. From this angle he can see Sejanus’ cock too, slowly but surely rutting into your ass.

“Slut,” Coriolanus spits. “Fucking slut. Look at you, you just love being fucked like a useless little bitch, don’t you?”

You cry out, the sensations too much but you know you still need to cum. And luckily, there your sweet boy is— Sejanus, his fingers reaching around to hastily rub at your clit. Coriolanus grunts, pushing his fingers away and replacing them with his own.

He rubs them in fast circles, and your pussy pulls taut as you orgasm all over his thick length. Coriolanus grins, proud of himself as he sees you fall apart.

“That’s it,” he says. “Good girl. Cum on my cock.”

Your tongue lolls out, and the man spits onto it as he pounds you, fast thrusts soon giving way to slower ones as his hips stutter and he creams inside you for a second time. He relaxes against your wrecked body, sighing out as he pulls out and his cum spills out of your raw fucked hole.

His eyes connect to Sejanus’, and the boy seems proud but also angry. Coriolanus gets the message to move out of the way, and with strong arms Sejanus lifts up your body and slams you down onto the mattress. His cock moves desperately, chasing the high he’s been craving, and he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back as he fucks you from behind.

All the while, his jaw is clenched and he’s looking at Coriolanus with a fire in his hazel eyes. He has a bone to pick with him later for taking his girl’s orgasm as his own.

And as he watches the blonde’s cock get hard against his stomach for a third time, he knows exactly how he’s going to solve it.

#Coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow x reader #Sejanus plinth x reader #Coriolanus snow x reader x Sejanus plinth #Coriolanus snow smut #sejanus plinth smut #thg #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games fanfic #tbosas #the ballad of songs and snakes #the ballad of songs and snakes fanfic

[mrkis]

nct dream reaction :: getting horny unintentionally

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗? 〚YES〛/ 〚𝗡𝗢✗〛 ⟶ requests are closed.

AUTHORS NOTE. was talking abt this with @haechrry a while back and i almost passed away so i had to write it. also, a biiiiiig thank you to @dollyji who helped give ideas for chenle and jisungs (mwah). also again this isn’t proofread it’s currently 5am so if you notice any mistakes, no you don’t <3

. . . 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞

mark always has his hand on resting on your thigh, both intentional and unintentional. you learnt over time that this specific form of physical touch comforted him, made him feel at ease, grounded him whenever he was stuck in his own head. the touch comforted you too and you didn't have any problem with it, but it was the strokes of his fingers and the grabbing of your flesh that turned a sweet moment into a moment of want and need. you wanted nothing more than to grip his hand and shove it in between your thighs to where you yearned for him the most.

you're stuck in one of those moments, eyeing his hand that rests on your thigh, watching his fingers drum against your skin as he hums a tune under his breath all while staring down at his phone in his other hand. he has no idea what he's doing to you.

"what are you looking at?" he suddenly asks you and your head snaps up to meet his eyes, noticing that he's staring at with you an unreadable glint. "what's up?"

"nothing" you shake your head, but you press your lips together with a deep exhale as you start to feel mark's fingers knead into your skin. "do you know what you're doing?"

"no?" he frowns before his attention dart down to his hand, realisation creeping over him. "oh" he gives you a boyish grin, something you immediately want to kiss off of his face. "i didn't know me doing something so simple turned you on so much"

"everything you do turns me on"

"i can do something about that, if you want?" mark suggests as he shuts off his phone and places it down, turning to face you fully as he leans in close, "just open your legs a little wider for me, baby"

. . . 𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡

he’s just standing there. he’s just standing half naked with a towel hanging loosely off of his hips as he rummages through your drawers to look for his sleepwear. yet there’s something about him standing half naked in your room that has your mind running wild.

the imprint of his cock pressing against the material of the towel has your mouth watering, the water droplets that slide down his chest does nothing to help calm your feral thoughts and you can almost feel yourself beginning to drool when his body turns to face you, throwing a clean shirt and boxers down on the bed.

you watch with hungry eyes as he tugs the towel off his hips, letting it fall to the ground as he reaches for his boxers to put them on but your quicker, leaping over the bed covers to snatch them up, causing him to make a noise of surprise as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“i need to get dressed” he chuckles when he sees you hold the item close to your chest. “baby, come on…”

“i don’t think you’ll be needing them” you say truthfully and you see a smile start to form on his lips.

“and why’s that?”

“because i’m going to suck your cock” you tell him, noticing how his cock twitches at your words. “and then you’re going to fuck me. after that, we’ll shower together to not waste water… and maybe we’ll go for round two”

“yeah? is that right?” he asks you and you nod immediately. “alright. get on your knees for me then and suck me off so i can fuck you good”

. . . 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗢

it's supposed to be a romantic date night with you and jeno, enjoying the midnight sky after a hefty meal and a few drinks, wrapped up in each others arms as you enjoy your alone time together.

but the situation you're in doesn't feel romantic in the slightest, in fact you're feeling a little hot and aroused being pressed up against a railing with jeno standing behind you, chin resting on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your middle, his body flush against yours as he takes in the scenery.

you can feel him, all of him. his cock pressing between your ass cheeks which is covered by a flimsy skirt and every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caging you between him and the railing.

your pussy aches for him, desperate to flip up your skirt and push your underwear to the side to have him so easily slide into you and fuck you right here in public, for anyone to see, but you know that's not going to happen.

"this is supposed to be a romantic date night yet you're grinding your ass against my cock like a bitch in heat" you hear him murmur into your ears and you mewl softly, doing nothing to stop your actions as you continue pushing back into him and he grips your hips tight, hissing through his teeth. "keep going and i'll bend you over this railing, let the whole city hear you scream my name"

. . . 𝗛𝗔𝗘𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡

the position of haechan laying between your thighs, head resting on your belly as he watches something on his phones screen has you feeling weak in the knees. his breath fans against your skin, his hair tickles you every time he moves, the light pecks he gives you randomly has you squeezing your thighs around his shoulders.

he coos, taking it as a sign of you hugging him and he stokes you, delicate fingers tracing shapes on your skin, not realising the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal, feeling uncomfortably sticky on your folds.

you try to manoeuvre around to get some friction, to feel anything that could satisfy the need for him and the way he slowly turns his head to look at you could almost be deemed as comical if it wasn’t for his darkened gaze.

“i know what you’re doing” he says, completely disregarding his phone as it drops to the bed sheets. “i know me laying between your legs like this is turning you on. Do you think you’re sneaky?”

you cant help but scoff, “You knew yet you didn’t do anything about it?”

“just wanted to see if you’d beg me” he states nonchalantly, pressing his hands on your thighs to spread them apart further, smirking as he sees the damp patch on your shorts. “do it, baby. beg me”

. . . 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗡

“fuck, why is this so hard?” you hear jaemin curse under his breath from the kitchen and your brows pull together at the sound, peering your head around the doorframe to see your shirtless boyfriend staring down at a recipe on the countertop, palms flat against the surface and muscles bulging as he leans in to take a closer look.

he grumbles and curses again, mumbling something about the ingredients as he runs his fingers through his hair and let’s put a frustrated sigh, craning his neck back to reveal his adams apple.

the sight, undoubtedly, is arousing. seeing jaemin so worked up and cursing over something so simple has you feeling a little hot and bothered, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him roll his shoulders back with a grunt and he goes to turn, seemingly heading towards the cabinets but stops in his tracks as he sees you, leaning against the doorframe with a familiar glint in your eyes.

“how long have you been standing there?”

“long enough” you answer, clearly checking him out as your eyes roam over his chest and down to his vline where the rest his hidden by a pair of sweatpants that hang from his hips. “what are you doing?”

“was hungry, tried following a new recipe” he explains to you with a grin, drumming his fingers against the countertop as he looks at you, gaze turning sultry. “although if you come over here and sit your pretty little ass down in front of me, i may be hungry for something else”

. . . 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡𝗟𝗘

“did you see that? that was such bullshit… what the fuck? how can someone be so dumb? so clueless? i swear, they do this shit on purpose. stupid fucking idiots—”

you’re salivating at the mouth hearing chenle curse out the players on the tv screen, too engrossed in the game to notice how much of an effect his rant seems to have on you.

chenle getting riled up over anything and everything is definitely one of your favourite versions of him, seeing the annoyance and anger swimming in his irises, face red and teeth grit together. he doesn’t get riled up at you per se, it’s at everything else that pisses him off. (even though sometimes, you do wish it was you, hence why you always act like a brat in the bedroom).

eyeing him up, seeing how his jaw clenches makes you want to push at his shoulders to lay him down flat and smother his face more than ever, and with his fists clenching at his sides makes you yearn for him to manhandle you in his grip and have you in any way he prefers.

but it was him clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and poking at his cheek in frustration that makes you snap, hands gripping his shoulders and laying him back against the sofa cushions, climbing onto his lap and tugging his belt through the loops of his jeans.

“really? that easy?” he chides you, brow raising as if to say he was in disbelief. but with how he’s growing harder beneath your palm, you know he’s feeling the exact same way as you. “come on then, princess. sit on my face while i fuck your mouth”

. . . 𝗝𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚

you’re supposed to be finishing up the latest episode of a tv show, promising to get it over and done with to spill your thoughts and theories with your bestie over text. but you struggle to complete the task when you can see jisung in the corner of your eye fiddle with his hands, twisting the rings that he’s wearing around his fingers and pressing down on his knuckles to crack them all while whispering lowly beneath his breath—lyrics of a song that sounds a little suggestive due to his tone.

you try to not take any more notice but you find yourself in a difficult position with him leaning against you and hearing the whispers so clearly in your ear and the movements of his fingers. you fidget in your seat, clearing your throat as you try to collect your thoughts all while the arousal builds, pussy clenching around nothing as you squeeze your thighs together.

“why’d you keep moving so much?” jisung suddenly asks you and you freeze, almost feeling a little silly at being caught.

“you’re distracting me”

he cocks his head to the side innocently, “i am?”

“yes” you nod. “i can hear you whispering the lyrics to that song and playing with your fingers… it’s distracting”

“is it?” jisung asks again this time, but his voice is low and sultry, causing you to turn to look at him in surprise as he smiles at you. “want me to whisper how much i want to fuck you in your ear while i finger you? i can do that if you want”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct dream reaction #nct dream smut reaction #mark lee smut #renjun smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #jaemin smut #chenle smut #jisung smut

[lovebugism]

Smut request idea: Eddie worshipping reader's tits, who is insecure about their small size (lol totally not projecting 😅)

ty for requesting :D — eddie 'heart eyes' munson sees your boobs for the first time (cw for nudity, but no real smut, 18+ mdni, 1.1k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

On a rainy, post-show night, in the back of Eddie Munson’s van, you decide to be brave.

Buzzing with alcohol, adrenaline, and adoration — a wild concoction rushing like fire through your veins — you take your shirt off for the very first time in front of him. Mostly because your sweater was getting itchy, so you’re not entirely sure how brave that makes you. But your skin burns still, empty like a blank sky, yearning for a warmer touch to fall over you like stars.

In the simplest, most human way, you need Eddie to touch you like you need to breathe air. 

So, when you tugged the fuzzy sweater up and over your head, you hadn’t thought much about doing it. You were too full of need, too unthinking. Head clouded with longing until you developed something short of tunnel vision for the boy underneath you.

It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Isn’t this what girlfriends do with boyfriends?

Eddie’s silence is not reassuring. It feels more like a knife lodged in the very center of your sternum.

You lay the sweater beside you and cross your arms slowly over yourself. Equal parts to hide what you’d just revealed to him and to shield your bleeding, stinging heart.

Eddie’s face twists, pained features swirling like a hurt puppy. “Wait— What are you doing?” he asks in an unabashed whine. His less-than-subtle pout deepens as his chocolate-button eyes flit up to yours.

You keep curling in on yourself, but from where you straddle his thighs, he’s impossible to run away from. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you wonder in a tiny voice, distantly fearful of the answer. 

You don’t have the kind of chest people put on magazines. Maybe you should’ve just kept the shirt on.

Eddie’s ringed fingers smooth around your bare waist. He realizes he’s holding you there for the very first time without any fabric covering you. His chest starts to sparkle. His thumbs rub gently at your ribcage, just below the arms still concealing yourself.

“‘Cause I’m too busy enjoying the view, honey,” he answers with a plush pink and crooked smile. His words are slightly slurred, weighed down by fatigue and desire. “How am I supposed to think when I’m looking at you, huh?”

You make a faint, grumbly noise, features scrunching in disdain at his compliment.

He smiles wider and curls his fingers around the wrists you hold over yourself. There is little force behind his touch, no eagerness to tug your hands away. Instead he just holds you, in a distinctly quiet embrace, telling you silently that you can let your guard down whenever you’re ready.

“So you don’t think they’re weird?”

He answers with an immediate scoff. “No, I don’t think they’re weird— I think they’re beautiful! I think every part of you is beautiful.”

You grow less and less tense in his hold. Your hands start to slip. You let them. 

Bare again in front of him, the boyish glimmer in Eddie’s dark eyes returns. 

The wild cadence of rain on the rusted tin roof resembles the rapid patter of his pounding heart as he ogles at you. And, with his back propped against the driver’s seat, he has the most perfect view of you.

The pale hands along your ribcage slowly start to rise. His warm touch leaves sparkling goosebumps in its wake. He doesn’t stop until his thumbs are settled neatly beneath your breasts.

“I mean— I always knew they’d be pretty, you know?” he mumbles, getting lost in you all over again. You don’t know if he’s talking to you, or if he even knows he’s rambling. “‘Cause when you’d let me feel you up, you know, over the shirt— I always imagined what you’d look like under it…”

He trails off then, forgets how to make words when his thumb rubs over your soft nipple. The gentle stimulation makes it stiffen beneath his touch. Eddie smiles to himself, all boyishly giddy.

“…But I couldn’t’ve, in my wildest imagination, expected this.”

Your chest warms with his affection. You scoff about it, anyway. “You’re such a boy,” you laugh.

“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty…” 

Still cupping your chest, Eddie leans down to kiss you there. A chaste, open-mouthed peck to your pebbled nipple. His heart swells when he hears you moan above him — your nose buried in the strands of his wild hair, fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

Eddie licks his rosy lips when he pulls back from you. 

“See? You’re gonna kill me one day, doll— I swear,” he teases in a joking tone, but means every bit of it. He loves you so much it makes his chest ache. You’ll give him a goddamn heart attack one day if he’s not careful. “Can’t believe you’ve been hiding from me this whole time…”

You’re not sure either, now. 

“I was just scared that… I don’t know,” you stammer, clammy hands fidgetting with his intentionally tattered Corroded Coffin t-shirt. You’d helped him cut rips into the white fabric before the show. You distract yourself with the pink lipstick smudge you’d pressed along the neck of it, rubbing hopelessly at a stain that’ll never come off. 

“I was scared that you’d think I was less pretty or something. I don’t know.”

“No,” Eddie recoils immediately, face twisting in abhorrence of the thought. He shakes his wild head at you. “No way. That’s not possible. I think you’re fucking— perfect. And I think that…”

His eyes fall to your chest again. He loses the rest of his words.

A smile blossoms on your face. You don’t think you’ve ever felt prettier than you do right now.

“You think that what?” you tease, hands rising again to twist in his deep brown curls.

Eddie’s button eyes flit back up to you. His ringed hands lift to cup your breasts in his wide palms. They fit just perfect in his hands — like he was made to hold you there. The width of his beam rivals your own. 

“That I just found Corroded Coffin’s next album cover,” he answers.

The sound of your laughter fills the van. Sunshine compared to the rolling rain outside.

“No. No way. That’s not happening,” you refuse, still smiling, as Eddie leans into you again.

You wrap your arms around his neck when he puts his mouth on you. He buries his own laughter against the plush of your breast — along with so many little kisses. 

He doesn’t mind your light-hearted rejection. The only thing Eddie likes more than showing you off is keeping you totally to himself.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

[nervoussagittarius]

matt sturniolo and y/n being cute for 6 minutes straight

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: a compilation of cute moments between matt and his girlfriend, caught on camera

warnings: none

☼ you and the triplets had decided to take a trip to hawaii for a week vacation. the boys were vlogging for their channel in the airport when nick panned over to you and matt sitting side by side sharing a pair of headphones.

“matt how do you feel about going back to hawaii?” nick asked. as matt seaming didn’t hear what he said, you squeezed his hand you were holding pausing the music that was playing for you two.

you were about to slip your had out of matt’s when he grabbed it again using his other hand to pull your chair closer to his. “we’re very excited nick, aren’t we baby.” he said glancing between you and the camera

“i’m excited to eat really good food and be really tan”

“and i’m excited to see y/n in a bikini” matt replied as you jokingly slapped his chest.

matt looked at you again as he began to smother your face in kisses and you giggled.

“and that’s enough of those two” nick said turning to chris instead.

☼ you had just fallen asleep when the boys started filming for their new wednesday video. you had come over to hangout with matt. deciding you didn’t want to run to the grocery store with them, you quickly found comfort in matt’s bed.

“chris, can you read off the recipe?” nick asked, trying to find measuring spoons. the triplets were filming another cooking video for this week, and they didn’t have the best track record with making things the right way.

“nick, i don’t know what the fuck any of this means. why can’t you just read it and i’ll measure?”

“matt what are you doing? why aren’t you mixing the ingredients?” nick asked. he was starting to feel annoyed at the idea of making these muffins from scratch.

“can’t we just ask y/n for help? she’s good at this kind of stuff” chris explained trying to get his brothers attention. “fine chris just go get her”

chris walked into matt’s room, and seeing you asleep he thought nothing of it and woke you. “y/n, we need help baking for our video.” he then walked out assuming you would follow.

you quickly woke up throwing on one of matt’s hoodies and made your way to the kitchen. nick was the first to notice you and how you looked slightly lethargic from not being fully awake yet. “chris did you wake her up or something? why would you do that?” this caught matt’s attention and he quickly took in your current state.

“chris!” matt slightly exclaimed. he turned to you and walked you both to what he thought was out of the camera frame. he quickly pulled you into a hug “i didn’t know you were sleeping otherwise i would’ve never let him bother you. are you okay being in the video quick… cause if not you can go back to sleep. i’m really sorry for waking you”

“no no. chris didn’t know. it’s okay matt, i don’t mind” matt then grabbed your his hoodie pocket pulling you over to the table. nick went on to explain what the boys had done so far and asked if you could be there to double check their work. matt kept a comforting hand on your back as he stood beside you, and he kissed your head occasionally as you scolded chris on the messed up measurements he was adding.

☼ matt was doing a quick stream when you arrived at the boy’s house. you just got off work and all you wanted was to see matt and tell him you loved him.

silently you walked into matt’s room trying not to disturb him as you walked over. “hi baby! how was your day?” matt said pushing one side of his headset off his ear.

streaming would never stop him from giving you all the attending in the world. he loved showing you off. he pulled you over to his desk. “look guys, y/n just got here. look at how pretty she looks.” he gave you the biggest hug pulling you up into him. he gave you as kiss not caring that the chat was going wild over how cute you two were.

“can i sit with you?” you brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. without hesitating he sat the two of you down on his desk chair. you guys talked with the chat for a little bit before matt grabbed his controller going back to the game he was playing.

you sat there contently stealing little glances at him, which didn't go unnoticed by the fans.

☼ nick was having one of his moments where he was very active on snapchat. he was answer everyones questions when all of a sudden, unbeknown to nick, you and matt were caught cuddling in the back of one of his pictures.

his messages were soon flooded with comments about the two of you and how cute you were.

nick shortly became disgusted with all the girls making comments on you and his brother. he passed his phone over to you to make a statement on the situation.

"hi guys, y/n here. nick gave me his phone to talk to you all. yes, matt is here, and yes we are cuddling." you began to giggle at how insane you felt. matt lifted his head from your chest at the movement, giving a shut eye smile to the camera.

chats started coming in specifically directed to you this time. you tried to answer as many as you could, but most were just saying how they love you and how matt always looks so "babygirl" when he's you're together.

you loved how accepting the boys fans were of your relationship. you started a new video focusing on matt's sleeping face resting on you. "please everyone, let's take a minute and look at how cutie patootie matt is. he's just so kissable and squeezable"

"okay give me my phone back. i'm officially disgusted."

"bye guys!" matt said opening one eye to look at the camera and wave.

☼ you and matt had decided to have a little date night while nick and chris went out with some of your friends. you guys hadn't had much time alone in the past couple of weeks so this was a nice change of pace.

the night started out simple. the two of you had a picnic at the beach and then you ended up stargazing out of matt's car. as both of you made your way back to the triplets house you thought it would be a good idea to bake some cookies and watch a movie for the rest of the night.

while you two were baking, you were unaware that nick and chris were on their way back with tara and jake. music was softly playing as you set the tray of cookies into the oven.

"dance with me." matt stated, grabbing your hand to spin you around. you let out a laugh as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

coming up to the front door, tara was vlogging the group upon arrival. chris unlocked the front door as they all entered. the music could be heard from the front stairs.

"should we try to scare them?"

"absolutely! just wait and let me get my camera back out"

as they all piled into the living room quietly, they noticed you two in your own world dancing to some mac miller song. your head rested on matts chest as he swayed to the beat.

"stop it. they're so cute. the girlies are going to die for this footage"

you and matt quickly glanced at the group of four. at the same time the timer went off for the cookies.

"alright enough with the cute coupley-ness. let's see how these cookies turned out"

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

comments:

i love them. i don't know who i want to be more

its so funny how everyone is so in love with them being in love and nick is just grossed out 24/7

i love how y/n is never wearing her own clothes. only matts

they're so in love its not even funny

"i just want to see y/n in a bikini" me too matt. me too

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[mvltisstuff]

going, going, gone - c.f

summary: y/n’s the only person who can get conrad, and he realizes that maybe he’s been falling for the wrong conklin.

conrad fisher x conklin!reader

gif from @conradfiisher

a/n: this will likely have a part two, so it probably won’t end here!! no promises as to when pt 2 is out but it will be there eventually ;)) this is literally me wishing i could slap some sense into belly

part two

“hey,” y/n greets, stepping into the beach house and finding conrad unpacking.

“hi,” he smiles lightly. the past few months have been nearly impossible. trying to crack conrad open is like trying to break into a safe. it took y/n forever to be able to understand conrad, and now that she finally did, there was an undeniable spark. she could sense the tension in his mind, knowing that something had set him off. he looked like he just wanted to break down, but he didn’t want to. if he did, he doesn’t know how to put himself back together.

“you ok?” she asks, cautiously. he’s almost like a wild animal, get too close and he runs away. especially since susannah died, he hasn’t been able to find a connection like the one he had with his mother.

“fine,” he mumbles, folding a few blankets onto the couch and placing some pillows beside it.

“conrad, don’t play this game with me again,” y/n sighs, stepping closer to him. he pauses in his movements to look up at her, slapping one last piece of decor on the mantle. “can we at least talk about the exam?”

“i, um,” he stutters, unable to find the right words that have disappeared in his mind. it’s like he completely pushed out the exam, all the other events had forcefully taken the excitement from it. “i feel really good about it, but it’s just an exam.”

y/n can tell in his slumped stance that something is truly disturbing him. he looks broken, and whoever did it certainly failed to put the pieces back together. it appears that they didn’t even try. “talk to me, conrad. please?”

he stops, breaking eye contact. he can’t look at her while he tells her because she can’t see his face when he says it. he doesn’t want y/n to see him crack under the pressure again.

“jeremiah and belly were making out on my car when i came out of testing. i walked out and there they were.”

“what?” y/n spits out, thinking about everything belly had told her before. “i thought she said she moved on-“

“yeah, i did, too,” his voice breaks, still avoiding any looks to y/n. if y/n sees him falling apart over belly, y/n would probably say something. the last thing conrad wants is for belly to know the affect this had on him.

“conrad, you know you can talk to me, right?” she steps closer, wanting to reach out her hand to him but knowing he probably doesn’t want it. he wants belly’s. “anything you say to me won’t get back to her.”

he slightly turns, finally letting his eyes wander up y/n’s body until they meet hers. he’s always found a trust in y/n. she’s been there since they were little kids, but it’s always felt different. there was an innocence to her, she felt like home and he could always run back to her if he needed her. he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he ruined that.

“i’m just so tired, y/n. it’s just one step forward and two steps back. i thought we could finally be over this, but they both just stabbed me in the back. on my car, during my test, in my hoodie. my mom always said belly was destined for me, but it just feels like jere took that.”

y/n can feel the hurt as well as see it on conrad’s face. she’s able to read him so well now that he’s not afraid to open up. she feels like they’ve gotten through a door, a point where they can share secrets and find a safety net in the other. “belly doesn’t deserve you, conrad. she’s not as mature as you, and you can thrive without her, i swear.”

“i’ll be ok, i just need a break from all this shit,” he groans, allowing y/n to finally walk up to him and hold his hand. “i don’t know if we can go back to the way things were after this.”

“i know i can’t change what happened, but i need you to understand that you’re not alone. at this point, you come first to me.” he nods, and y/n can see the sunrise in his face a bit more, but his mind is still covered with darkness. “if you need anything, please call me or come see me, ok?”

“deal,” he cracks a little grin, making y/n smile a bit in return.

“take care of yourself, connie,” she says before opening the front door. she starts the long drive home knowing what’s waiting for her there.

she plants her stuff down on the counter, letting her body relax after the hours behind the wheel. she starts to clean up some of the mess that she left on the counter when she hears squeaky footsteps come down the stairs.

“hey, you’re back already?” belly says, lurking into the kitchen to lean against the frame. y/n doesn’t say anything, she just looks at her and continues to organize everything. “what’s wrong, why do you look like that?”

“honestly, belly, i’m just trying to figure out what to say to you.”

“what do you mean?” belly asks, trying to think about why her older sister could have a reason to be mad at her.

“i stopped at cousins on the way home,” y/n informs her, belly knowing exactly where she left conrad.

“y/n, you can’t be pissed off because of what he told you-“

“no, belly, i have every right to be pissed. i’m pissed for conrad. you left him in the dust and you have no shame about it.”

“it just happened, jeremiah and i. i never wanted to hurt conrad, but im in love!”

“yeah, you were also in love last week with conrad. and the week before with jeremiah. you need to move on from them, bell,” y/n sighs, allowing belly some time to build another response.

“who are you to even say that?”

“because i’ve been there for both of them! i was there for jeremiah when you wanted conrad. i’m there for conrad because you are playing with their hearts like they’re toys. i can tell your hearts not fully in it with jeremiah, but i’m not gonna let you destroy those boys even more.”

“how am i destroying them?”

“belly, wipe that innocence off your face. you’ve managed to rip apart the fisher brothers because you cannot pick which one you like more.”

“but-“

“no, belly! listen to me,” y/n cuts her off before she can try and make anything better. “you couldn’t even contain yourself at susannah’s funeral because you were too worried about conrad. i know we are all grieving, but you are acting like you’re more worried about which brother likes you more. it’s exhausting having to clean up the mess you make over and over again. you’re slowly ruining this bond for me, for steven, for mom! you know i love you more than words, but if you keep playing with their feelings, belly, this family is going to be destroyed.”

“y/n, susannah told me-“

“use susannah as an excuse one more fucking time, belly.” the room goes deadly silent, y/n sick of the excuses and victimized mentality of belly. when steven comes stepping quietly into the room, he ganders softly into the chaotic mess that has formed between his sisters. she swipes her keys back off the table, grabbing an extra bag out of the closet. “i’ll be back.”

“where are you going?” belly says, eyes full of tears from her fear of confrontation. her voice was shaky, and y/n could still feel a sting of guilt in her chest. she hated to build a bigger wall between everyone, but belly had to hear it.

“i’m going to look after conrad, because you failed to do it,” y/n ends their conversation, slamming the front door behind her and moving to the car. she left the house with a terrible tone, but someone else needed her more. belly had jeremiah, taylor, steven, laurel, anyone she wanted. conrad had y/n, and that became enough for him.

#the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fic #the summer i turned pretty s2 #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp conrad #tsitp taylor #tsitp fic #tsitp spoilers #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin #laurel park #belly conklin #taylor jewel #susannah fisher #team jeremiah #team conrad #team cam #cam cameron

[starofthesea7]

König~Worship the King

Your eyes traced the huge mass of muscle in front of you. Fresh from the field, he looked exhausted, primal- his canvas pants still splattered with mud and god knows what else. Arms shiny with sweat and rain, leg bouncing absentmindedly, his head was still a void, swimming with pictures of death and devastation. His eyes were focused on a bowl of stew, dwarfed by his huge, muscled hands. Pale fingers against white ceramic.

‘You can take the mask off to eat your food, I have to clean up your face anyway. In fact I should look at that first.” Your voice was soft, hesitant. Afraid of startling him, even though little could do so.

Dark fabric folded as he shook his head gently. “After. I don’t want it to…” he searched for the word in English, “to scare you. Yet” His voice was rough and tired, laced thickly with an accent, german. Your heart twinged at his words.

“You couldn’t scare me.” You attempted a reassuring smile. König. King. A very fitting name for the enigma in front of you, and yet in some ways not fitting at all. True he was imposing. Large. Stately. Yet he was gentle, anxious, even, when he was in close proximity to others. Under scrutiny. He was anxious when it came to people, most of all you. He was good at hiding it though, to you it seemed an aloofness, perhaps even a polite disinterest, that he felt towards you. A simple nod in greeting as he passed you was the most you could hope to receive.

Now you stood in between his enormous thighs which he’d spread just far enough apart to avoid grazing yours, the air between them thick with tension. You rolled up his dark sleeve, doing your best to ignore the rippling muscle beneath. They way it flexed which each ascent of his spoon, before it disappeared underneath black cloth, then reappeared, empty. He barely flinched as you dabbed an alcohol pad across the gaping wound on his shoulder. Blood glistened carmine.

Oxymoron was a more fitting name, you thought. Perhaps it was too long for a nickname. He truly was a paradox, though. So colossal, yet reserved. So immense yet quiet, even gentle. He was a man of few words. A wave waiting to crash, or a volcano waiting to erupt.

Your voice broke the silence, surprising you both. It felt small. “Feel okay?” He was nervous, although you couldn’t see it, underneath the mask. He wasn’t really afraid of you, more afraid of hurting you, or scaring you. With his weight. His scars, his is strength.

His eyes raised to meet yours. Although he was sitting, they were level with your own. A cold, pale olive green. “Ja. Thank you. I am sorry for waking you for this little scratch.” When you’d gotten a call that he’d needed a small patch job, admittedly you’d jumped at the chance to see him. You’d been drawn to the Austrian giant since you’d arrived a month ago. You liked his presence, it was safe, a shield to all else. Nothing could touch you with him there. No amount of horny jeering men, or loaded guns.

“It’s not a just scratch, König, its a big gash. And I haven’t even gotten to your face yet. Plus, I couldn’t sleep anyway, I’m happy to do it.” You rambled, feeling the burn of his eyes on yours, studying your face as you concentrated, threading a sterile needle. You stepped forward, into him, bumping his leg. He smelled like earth, and motor oil. Faintly of cigarettes and metallic blood. The heady odour was thick, collocating with the rubbing alcohol of your sterile office.

“Deep breath.” You felt silly, instructing a man who’d murdered countless men in the past week to do a breathing excersise, but he obeyed, the soft, raspy sound making your knees weak, and your imagination run wild. You blinked and regained focus, before puncturing the skin. His eyes fixed on your face, unwavering. You counted the stitches. Eleven, black and neat, in a row. “Aaand…done.” You cut the thread. “And not even a flinch.” You smiled at him, and his eyes crinkled, barely.

You gently rubbed it with ointment and wiped your hands on a towel, blood staining it crimson. You noticed his thighs now resting against yours. They were warm, and dirt from them stained your kaki pants but your hardly cared. “Ok. Ready for the mask?” You felt nervous, more nervous than he looked. It felt monumental, an enigma becoming real, smoke condensing into man.

You’d thought about what he looked like, but only in patches, certain features imagined while the rest of the picture was more of a blurred haze. Pale skin and light eyes. Dark or light hair? A sharp jaw or weak and soft? You couldn’t really imagine him being ugly, and truly, you felt you’d be attracted to him regardless, like opposite poles of a magnet. North and south. Dark and light, soft and hard.

He cleared his throat, and set the empty bowl down beside him. His eyes held yours vehemently, and large hands raised black cloth, revealing a pale, broad column of neck, a white scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your lips. His lips were split, bitten and red. And inviting. A glint of teeth and a jaw, sharp with a whisper of stubble. The cloth clung to a splatter of blood and small cuts now integrated with old scars, and a few pieces of shrapnel that traveled up to a deep, glistening slice. Caked blood ran down his temple. His nose was sharp and slightly crooked, veering to the right in an endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child.

Then, his eyes, deep set and soft, framed with long lashes and crowned with sharp brows, one interrupted by a large, aged scar. Finally, hair, light, light brown, almost blonde, with a tinge of red, tumbled out. It was tied back with an elastic, but not long, as if he was in need of a trim, shorter pieces falling across his forehead. His head tilted back as he looked at you, silently, daring you to react to his intimate sign of trust.

You breathed out. It wasn’t what you had expected. His face was, interesting. Attractive. Younger than you’d imagined. A sharp canine pressed into his lip. You let out a breath, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it clench beneath your fingers, tilting his face up towards artificial light. His lips parted, adams apple bobbing. “You should’ve let me do your face first.”

“Sorry.” His voice was soft, ragged.

You reached for a pair of pointed tweezers and began removing each piece of shrapnel from his face. The night was quiet, save for for soft breaths. His was hot against your cheek. “König.” Chunks of metal and stone clanged into a small aluminum bowl. He hummed in response.

“You could never scare me.”

He smiled softly at you, slightly crooked.

Without meaning to, your thumb stroked the soft skin of his jaw. His legs tightened against you, barely, but your heart quickened against your ribcage.

Again, you soaked the wounds in alcohol. You could tell it stung. His fingers began absentmindedly drumming against your hip, leaving hot tingles in their wake. You moved to the cut on his lip, he hissed quietly as you made contact with the cotton pad. Your eyes were focused, pupils blown wide as you stared at his lips. His hot tongue peeking out from behind pink bloodied skin.

Your voice was quiet, distant, “You have a pretty bad split lip, I’m gonna put a little stitch in it.”

He swallowed hoarsely, “Okay.”

You were close, so close to him, breaths mingling in the hot air. His scent enveloped you. He enveloped you. You weren’t particularly small, but to him you were. Fragile. The needle ruptured his lip and his hand gripped at your waist, heavy and large. You leaned into him, lower stomach barely grazing the split of his pants. He shifted in thick canvas.

Your hand shifted, cupping his jaw as you cut the thread. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, and something else. You looked at each other with neediness, both in awe of how the other contained all that they could ever want- him to satiate your emptiness, you to soothe his aching burn. A month of passing glances and unsaid words threatened to morph into action; spurred on by the arousal of seclusion and stagnation after the high of adrenaline, the heady scent of blood, metal, alcohol.

You leaned in and felt his hand tighten against you hip, You were inches from him, the air between you buzzed as opposites attracted, pulled you towards him. His mouth widened as he leaned into you. Your soft, plush lips grazed his, barely, and he pulled you into him, emitting a soft sound. Mouths opened wide with need. He was metal, cigarettes and gasoline, the taste and smell making you unsteady, faint. You gripped his shirt tightly, his mass keeping you from falling, or perhaps from floating away.

Deft, strong fingers found the back of your head. Scalp prickling as he pulled at your hair. You were slick.

He groaned slightly into your mouth, and your hands found his hair, fisting it free from the elastic band, copper locks brushing your forehead, stubble brash against your reddening cheeks.

His large warm hand traced from your hip down, raising your leg to straddle his thigh. Hot, hard muscle against your softness. You let out an involuntary airy moan as the seam of your jeans jabbed into your clit, cunt clenching around nothing, deprived and empty.

You lifted your other leg to straddle him fully, clothed cunt contracting at the friction against pelvis, you could feel him, large, hard, heavy and confined. It made you hot with need. You pulled back to stare at him, pupils blown, lips puffy. His hips bucked up into you, searching for friction and release, his brows furrowed. Colossal hands found your waist beneath your shirt, opposite fingers almost touching around your circumference. His fingers were calloused and rough. Feeling his hot skin against yours made you reel with thoughts of at the way he dwarfed you, dominated you with the simplest of actions. The fact that he could fill your emptiness, stretch you to the brink, overwhelm you, crush you- was inebriating.

“I-” he searched for the right words, “I want you. Ich brauche dich.” You smiled at his mother tongue appearing, as it often did in states of intoxication.

You pressed your mouth to his neck, with an open mouthed kiss, feeling the bump of his scar as he swallowed, and looked up at him through wet lashes. Grinding your hips against him, making him groan, cock twitching, hyper sensitive from months of neglect. You maundered, “Let me make you feel good, König.” Your voice was airy and laced with fervour. His eyes were glassy and lidded as he looked down at you, hair falling across his forehead, glistening with sweat. His head swam, the situation feeling far to good to be true, an intoxicated dream or adrenaline spurred hallucination. His blunt fingernails clutched at your waist harshly, leaving half moons in their wake.

Your eyes flickered to a stain of precum darkening the crotch of his thick pants as you rose to your feet, his hands gripped his thighs in restraint, watching you in anticipation. Then, you knelt to the ground to worship your king.

#cod #konig fluff #konig fanfiction #konig modern warfare #könig cod art #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #könig imagine #cod imagine #cod smut #könig smut #cod art #könig #könig modern warfare #konig call of duty #konig #konig fic #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x oc #könig x you #könig x y/n #könig fanfiction #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 #konig mw2 #call of duty mwii

[rinhaler]

𝖒𝖞 𝖋𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ plug!ryusei shidou x f!reader

Genre: smut Notes: iiiiiii want him n need him desperately ♡ i made him icky, manipulative and dress like pete davidson warnings: 18+, (soft?)dom!shidou, sub!reader, dubcon, drug use (weed), blowbacks/shotgunning, reader has pubes!, ryusei has a gold tooth, virgin!reader, corruption kink, dumbification?, fingering, blowjob, head pushing ♡, male masturbation, use of nii-chan (not referring to ryusei), slight dacryphilia, shush!kink, praise, pet names, cum eating ♡, he calls your pussy 'her', slut used once. words: 7.1k

“No way am I coming over. Your big brother would kill me.”

Ryusei can’t stop himself from smirking when he can hear your attempt to conceal a whimper. And he just knows there’s a plump little pout on that pretty little face on the other end of the line.

He’s been dealing to your brother for years, they’re basically best friends if you subtract the client aspect from the equation. They smoke together, they’re always hanging out and Ryusei isn’t a stranger to the apartment you and your brother share.

“How did you even get my number anyway, darlin’? Reaaaal naughty of ya to be calling me like this. Gonna be in big trouble if I tell your nii-chan.” he tells you. And this time you hear the smirk behind his voice. He’s teasing you. He’s toying with you, but you still can’t stop yourself from becoming paralysed with fear.

“He gave me it for emergencies! Please don’t tell ‘im!” you sigh. “He’s on some weekend work trip because he’s tryna get a promotion. I’m just lonely…”

“Awe, and why is that my problem?” he asks, harshly. It takes you aback slightly though your determination doesn’t falter. You take a deep breath and try to formulate a response in your mind.

“You guys are always havin’ fun together… but you never let me join in. I wanna have fun with you too, Ryusei—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I said no.” he stands firm and shows no signs of backing down. He hears the little deflated exhale you release, and he licks his lips as he thinks. He doesn’t want you to be sad, but he knows fucking around with a client’s sister behind his back is a stupid fucking idea. “You’ll be alright on your own. Why don’t you invite one of your friends over.”

“W-Well… I just wanted to see you.” you tell him, honestly. “I— I wanted to try smoking with you.”

He chuckles when he hears that. It hasn’t been a discreet crush you’ve harboured since you saw him for the first time. You may have thought otherwise, but Ryusei has always known. He kisses his teeth and laughs again as he thinks about this tantalising proposition being thrown onto his lap.

“You’re really tryna get into trouble this weekend, huh? Do you always invite drug dealers over?” he wonders, knowing the answer already. He knows you’re a good girl who always does as her nii-chan says. But today you want to let your hair down. Today you can let your hair down because he isn’t here for the whole weekend. You can be a little naughty and reckless and have some fun for a change. “Are you that lonely, baby? Jus’ want some company?”

“… Y-Yes. ‘m lonely…” your lower lip wobbles as you think about being in the same apartment all by yourself for the next two days. You’re fine now, it’s only 12:30pm. But what about when it gets dark out? You’re a stupid girl who lets her mind run wild with the possibilities of ghosts and home invaders. You’ve seen one too many horror movies while your brother and Ryusei are high in the front room for no regard to your taste in genre. You hate horrors but you’ve seen so many thanks to them. And now your mind is racing. What if you got kidnapped or killed for the fun of it? “I don’t wanna be alone, Ryusei… ‘m so scared.”

He grits his teeth, resolve crumbling as he thinks about you all alone in the apartment he’s spent so many nights in. So many pointless nights where he could have been out making more money or fucking a multitude of girls who don’t hide their attraction for him. So, is he really about to sacrifice the same for you?

Lonely, frightened, you?

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? I’ll be there in twenty.”

Now that he’s here you’re not sure what you were thinking. You’ve never smoked before. You’ve not even had a sip of alcohol before! But you know drugs are Ryusei’s whole life right now. Selling, buying and occasionally consuming. He locks the door behind himself as he enters. He’s wearing a wide grin as he comes in and approaches you.

He thinks you’re just the sweetest little thing.

Your feet walk you backwards as he gets closer to you, lunging forward to grab you when you almost trip over your pink Kirby slippers that your brother got you for your most recent birthday.

“Clumsy girl.” he grins, gripping into the fat of your underarms. He leads you over to the couch and more or less throws you down onto it. He dumps his backpack on the coffee table. “What time does your brother come home, sweetheart?” he asks, not even looking your way as he takes out his belongings and spreads them out on the table.

“Uh—” you think, eyes squinting as you look up at the ceiling and try to act natural. “Monday… morning.” you tell him.

“Well, I’m sure he won’t mind if I keep you company ‘til he gets back, right?”

“R-Right…” you aren’t so sure about that, but you’re hardly going to disagree with him. Though in truth, he knows he’ll be furious. But the time he cared about your pathetic brother’s opinion has been and gone. What kind of man would he be if he left a poor defenceless thing like you all on your lonesome in such a sketchy part of town?

You watch him carefully as he pulls out a grinder, some papers, and a large baggie of weed and puts them all down on the table. Your mind wanders as he describes the effects to you, none of it is computing. And it gets even worse when he starts talking about different strains doing different things. As far as you were aware, weed was just… weed. You’d never heard about strains or effects. All of your knowledge comes from movies. Tripping, munchies, all of the cliché stuff.

He grins when he sees your dumb expression. Of course you’re not understanding anything he says. All you need to know is that you’ll be okay because he’s here to look after you. He’s here to take you through it.

You watch him as he grinds it up in a tall metallic grinder. And seeing him roll is like witchcraft to you. It’s not like it’s the first time, but it’s the first time you’ve seen it up close. Your nii-chan always exiles you to your bedroom when they’re rolling and smoking. You’re only allowed out once they’re high, though it’s never stopped you peaking from the crack of your door.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as he holds eye contact with you while he licks the paper. Suddenly you’re looking anywhere but in his direction. He’s revelling in it, making you so uncomfortable and shy. You really are sweet ‘n innocent, huh?

“Here.” he hands it to you, his voice earning your attention and you look into his pink eyes before they drop to the blunt in his hand. You look back at him, confused, and he finds himself adjusting the baggy shorts he’s wearing in hopes that you haven’t noticed the way his cock jumps when you tilt your head so stupidly. “What? This is what you wanted.” he speaks, his defensive tone surprising you.

“But… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never smoked before…”

“Never? Not even a cigarette?” he asks.

“Nothing… never smoked or had a drink or even been to a party. Nii-chan is too protective.” you pout. He wants to fucking ruin you. You’re so fucking cute and stupid he thinks he might cum in his underwear just from hearing you speak. You’re so obedient and it makes you so fucking stupid. As if you aren’t a grown woman who could get her own apartment and do whatever she wants. “Will you show me?” you speak, cutting through his thoughts.

He nods, effortlessly. He lounges back into the couch, legs spread wide as he lets the blunt balance between his lips. It’s lit instantly, and you can’t believe what a pro he is. He’s got one of those stupid lighters. The ones with the metal bit you have to spin with your thumb rather than one of the plastic ones you just push down. You can never use them. Your brother always lends them to you when you want to light a candle, but he always ends up lighting them for you.

“Get me somethin’ to use as an ashtray.” he tells you, it’s a rude demand rather than a request. But his lack of manners doesn’t stop you from immediately jumping to your feet and rushing over to the kitchen sink. You just washed your brother’s ashtray this morning. You smile happily as you hand it to him, clearly willing to do anything he asks whether he’s polite about it or not.

He takes a few more drags and flicks the ash every so often. And when he’s halfway through, he looks at you, expectantly.

“Your turn.” he tries to hand it to you again. You take it, and you flinch as he also forces the lighter into your palm. “You didn’t invite me over just to watch me smoke, did you? What, are you trying to take advantage of me?” he laughs, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. His golden canine twinkles at you, halting you from speaking for longer than you’d intended.

“It’s not like that! I just— I’m nervous, and I hate these lighters.” you explain. You stiffen as he rolls his eyes and adjusts his body, angling it to face you. His stare is harsh, bordering on agitated. It’s only fair, you think. He hadn’t planned on spending his day babysitting you or showing you how to do something so simple. “’m sorry.” you speak, it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it. Almost.

“Open up.” he commands. You’re confused at first, and before you know it his rough thumb is tugging at the fat flesh of your lower lip. “I said: open up.”

You clear your throat and angle your body in a similar way to him. Although you’re nowhere near as tall or intimidating as him. You’re like a sullen little dormouse, respecting the orders of your master. Your lips part ever so slightly as he places the blunt between them. Your lips close around it, keeping it perched firmly between them. He can see lip gloss residue smearing on the paper; his depraved mind is going into overdrive. His lewd thoughts encompassing him, he needs to break free and focus on you before you start to ask more silly questions.

He tucks your hair behind your ears and away from your face. A brief thought crosses his mind of how embarrassing it would be to get caught by your brother because he singed your fucking hair.

“Don’t just suck it, yeah? Breathe it. You wanna feel it go in your chest, alright?” he asks you, it sounds like a reminder. Like he’d already told you this and he’s making sure you are listening this time. It’s hard not to when all you can focus on is him. How he’s staring at you. How he smells like cheap aftershave and weed. The smell of weed is revolting, truth be told, you aren’t sure how you’re going to be able to inhale it without gagging.

He flicks the lighter a few times and keeps an eye on your expressions and your breathing to make sure you’re doing it right. You look terrified.

And he likes it.

Your eyes get wider and wider the more you inhale, and he’s worried they might pop out of that pretty head of yours. You suck and you breathe in as much of the earthy smoke as you can until it embraced your lungs like an invader claiming its new home. He can’t hide his laughter when you begin to choke, realising you are the good girl you’re claiming to be and absolutely have never smoked anything in your life.

“Everything hurts.” you tell him, still coughing and sputtering out lingering smoke as your eyes water. “It tastes like shit…” you continue, covering your mouth as you can’t stop yourself from choking anymore. He gets up, handing the ashtray to you to balance the blunt in and he flees the scene of the crime without a word. He returns a few moments later with a glass of water, he even added in a few ice cubes for you.

“Think you’re all grown up because you’ve had your first puff?” he wonders, “Never heard you swear before, darlin’.” he finishes as he hands the glass to you.

“I swear��� I’m allowed to swear, Ryu.” you answer defiantly.

Cute, he thinks. You really are trying to sound all big and bad for him. But he’s never going to take you seriously after that little display, you’re just a little girl trying to act tough. A cute girl trying to be the cool girl.

But you both know you’re far from cool. A cool girl wouldn’t care so much about pleasing her brother and being a good girl for him. A cool girl would do whatever she wants without fear of the consequences.

At least you’re trying, he thinks.

You glug and you glug until you soothe the suffocating dryness in your chest. He’s transfixed on a droplet of water clinging to the corner of your mouth, unable to tear his gaze as it begins to run down your face. And he can’t think of a cuter sight than you still trying to be the cool girl, wiping it away with the back of your hand before he can notice despite it being much too late for that.

“C-Can I do some more?” you ask him, big wet eyes blinking at him as you hope he’s still willing to guide you.

“Think you can handle it?” he asks. “Get some more water.” he commands, not even letting you answer first. It’s probably the right call, though, you’re hardly going to be accustomed to the feeling of smoke contaminating your insides after one heavy inhale.

You follow his pathing from moments before, getting yourself some water and fresh ice cubes before returning and facing him again. You drink so much; he grabs your wrist and moves the glass away from your lips before you down the whole thing.

He lets out a heavy breath as he holds the blunt and sees how your lips immediately part for him this time without being asked. Fast learner. His thumb pulls at the metal wheel twice, each time it sounds make your eyes flicker further open.

“Breeeathe.” he demands, and you obey. You take it waaaay better this time, holding it for longer after he pulls the lighter away and takes the blunt from your lips. “That’s it, atta girl.” he smiles as you slowly exhale, only coughing a little bit. Your little hands are immediately reaching for the glass of water you set down moments before.

“I feel…” you try and think, eyes darting around the room in search of the right words to use. Your eyes close without your permission, humming happily as you embrace the feeling, a cheery smile visible on your face. “Weird…” you giggle, deeming it the only appropriate word that springs to mind.

“Is that right, baby? Feelin’ weird?”

“Mhmm.” you sigh, dreamily, letting the feeling consume you wholly. You want to melt into the couch beneath your thighs; and you involuntarily begin to lean back into the plush leather before Ryusei stops you. “My eyes are hurting, Ryusei…”

“Mm, I’ll bet. They’re all bloodshot, princess. Think you’re high.” he smirks.

“Wan’ some more.” you tell him, reaching to take the blunt from his hold. He moves his hand away. The fat, brown joint just out of your tired reach. And fuck he can’t stop his cock from twitching when you don that pout. That pretty little pout that you can’t stop yourself from displaying any time you’re disheartened. “P—lea, p-please…” your lower lip juts out further.

“C’mere.” he instructs you, his empty hand patting at his adjacent thigh. He sees the hesitation in your eyes. The little protest lodged in your throat as you think what a bad idea this could be. Why does he want you to sit on his lap? Your heart is racing with possibilities. Is he going to try and kiss you? Or is it simply an easier position for him to help you smoke? “Move, baby, now.” his voice is firm, almost scary. Your movements are slow, but you find yourself moving on his order regardless.

You go to him, but he stops you as you try and sit nicely in his lap. It isn’t quite what he had in mind. He doesn’t want to baby you like the princess you want to be for him. You’re like a ragdoll as he positions you, limbs loose beneath his touch until you realise you’re straddling him. His legs are spread wide, relaxed, and you’re hovering above him a little.

“Open your mouth f’me.” you’re like a robot, complying with each and every command he issues without hesitation.

You’re too good, too perfect. And Ryusei Shidou is quite the opposite; he’ll ruin you if you aren’t careful.

But right now, you couldn’t care less.

Your dewy lips part, wider than they had earlier until Ryusei seems satisfied. He’s relieved you’re only hovering over him, or you’d have definitely felt the way his dick twitched at the sight of your pudgy lips widening for him.

He relaxes, fully, his own eyes becoming more bloodshot as the minutes go by. Weed doesn’t affect him like it used to, not in the way it’s affecting you. But he’s calm. All of his thoughts are collected, and he feels at peace. It’s probably the reason he’s being so brazen and not giving a second thought to the consequences of being with you anymore.

While you’re waiting for his vision to be realised, while you’re waiting for the reason as to why he wants you in this position with your lips spread, he lights up the blunt once again. You watch him through a heavy-lidded stare as he takes a hefty inhale.

You sense him planning something, the cogs whirring sinfully in his mind as he looks between your eyes and your lips as he inhales the smoke deeper and deeper into his lungs. He rests his arm over the rest of the couch, harbouring zero consideration for the potential ash staining the cream carpet below.

He tries to close the distance between your bodies, and you instinctively jolt away from him, your lips clamping shut just as quickly. As much as he wants to smile, to laugh, his lips remain neutral and sealed. His empty hand holds the small of your back. His fingers drift, trailing up the column of your spine. He flattens his palm between your shoulder blades, pushing your face and body closer to his. His right hand remains between your shoulder blades, the other coming around to tug your viscid lower lip until your mouth is ajar. He leans in, closer. The closest he’s ever been to you in the entire time you’ve known him.

He's going to kiss you.

Your heart is thumping, the intense beating, hammering your heart through blood, muscle tissue and flesh. Your eyes close instinctively, and at that, he does smirk.

His eyes alternate between yours, and your gloss covered lips. And then his are ghosting yours, not close enough to touch but not far enough for you to not feel their presence. His gaze becomes heavy, lustful as he observes you. He’s fixated on how you react as he blows the smoke from his lungs into yours.

Your eyes widen as you realise he isn’t kissing you, but your mind is hazy as you realise what he is doing. His lungs shrink as he empties them, but he doesn’t move. He smiles, though, and you fucking feel it. He’s waiting patiently to see just how desperate you are for him to kiss you.

Your breathing is intense. He can hear each breath you take through your nose as you try and compose yourself. You try and calm down and hide your burning shame from him. He knew what you’d assume and chose not to correct you. Just to see you squirm.

But you want to kiss him.

You want him to kiss you.

He chuckles lightly when he sees a nervous little gulp plummet down your throat, he’s sure if he blinked he would have missed it. He wonders if your eyes always vibrate so intensely when you’re nervous.

“Did you like that?” he whispers, his lips still inching away from yours. You feel each and every breath it takes for him to speak that sentence.

“Yeah…”

“Yeah?”

“Mm… mhmm…” you nod, eagerly and yet somehow still awkwardly. “D— Can you do it again?” you whisper. It’s so meek and downright precious he can feel pre fucking ooze out of his tip.

He adjusts his position, nodding, his lips almost catching yours but not quite before he pulls away to smoke some more. Your lips part beautifully and he’s smiling sinisterly yet again. His hand travels from your back to hold the crown of your head, you can’t back away this time, not that you’d want to. He’s keeping you in place as he slowly begins to puff smoke past your desperate lips.

You moan, involuntarily, as you feel your mind cloud and your body grow wearier. But still, you can’t get enough. You can’t fully satiate your desires of intoxication. Not with drugs. Not with attention. Not with touch. You need him. More of him.

“Baby?” you hear him mumble, his lips clumsily toying with yours as he refuses to fully close the gap between them. “I think ya wanna kiss me.”

You squeak, almost, a high pitch whine sounding through your nose as the uncomfortable statement surges through you. Were you so pitifully obvious the whole time? You lean in closer, attempting to close the separation between you. But he pulls away, ever the tease, and he can’t help but relish the whimper that claws its way up your throat.

“You ever even kissed anyone?” he asks, closing the gap once again. “Y’know, since you’re such a good girl.”

You feel the tips of your ears and face begin to sear with heat, embarrassment flooding through your blood. You nod, defiantly, doing all you can to assure him you’re not the big loser he seems to think you are.

“I have… ‘ve had boyfriends before… Ryu…” you tell him, though it’s still a little humiliating.

“So,” he starts, his hand holds your hip as he adjusts himself slightly. Thumb stroking your side calmly, despite his cock driving ever so gently into your core as he moves. Not hard enough to set off alarm bells, but just enough to leave a lasting impression. He bites lip and releases it just as fast as his eyes rake over you, and you feel so small under his stare, despite him being the one looking up at you. His fingers weave and comb through your hair until he gets a tight enough grip. Your noses are touching before he tilts his head, your lips barely lingering on one another’s as you each fight against fully committing. “If I kiss you right now, it’s gonna be worth my time?” he whispers.

In truth, it’s been a while since you kissed anyone. You haven’t had a boyfriend since high school and that seems like a lifetime ago now. But you don’t want to go another second without feeling his lips fully pressed against yours. So, you nod. It’s weak and unconvincing, but you nod anyway.

It’s enough for him. In truth, he wouldn’t have cared if you’d never been kissed before. He’d be more than happy to teach you, though he’s sure he’ll teach you plenty anyway. He’s going to turn you into a masterpiece; one that has been created only for him to enjoy.

His lips slot against yours and it’s like an explosion. You’ve been fucking starved for him, and you can barely remember to breathe as it intensifies. Suctioning sounds repeat as you kiss without stopping. Neither of you remember to come up for air until you’re gasping.

Your lips part divinely as his tongue pushes past them and it’s so rapturous as your little wet muscle meets his. He groans, loudly, as he licks and swipes all while you’re moaning pathetically into his mouth. He bets your soaked, he’s rock hard and leaking like a virgin getting his first hand job after all.

“Stick out your tongue.” he tells you, and like always, you do as you’re told. He licks at it, swirls his own tongue around it. He sucks it until he’s heady with lust.

His body collapses against the back of the couch, and like the perfect pet you follow him. You can’t stop making out with him now. You can’t possibly get enough. You doubt it would even be enough to crawl inside his skin and live out the rest of your days there.

You’re addicted to him.

He pushes your body down so that your crotch is fully pressed into his. The feeling of his throbbing cock almost entirely against your panty-clad mound is a surprise to say the least, you hadn’t expected it and your surprised expression gives you away instantly. But he doesn’t comment right away, instead, he grinds his crotch against yours as you carry on kissing. Your breath fans across his face, you’re delirious from the sensation of him being against you like this, you’ve never known anything quite like it.

“Feel what you’re doin’ to me?” he chuckles, parting away from you enough to look up at you again and lick his lips. But you chase him, you think you might stop breathing if you deny yourself of him. Your tongue pushes past the seam of his lips, and of course he doesn’t object. He feels your little wet muscle searching for something, and he can’t contain the amused scoff when he realises you were tracking down his gold tooth, the tip of your tongue licking it from behind all of the way to the front until you reach his gums. “Fuck… you’re filthy.” he informs you before kissing you again.

You giggle before he yanks at your hair. Flirtatious laughter being forced into a tantalising gasp, your head angled so that you’re looking up at the ceiling above. The column of your neck is almost enough to make him cum. It’s so fucking bare. So pure and untainted. He wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you. To cover you in hickeys and bite marks so that everyone knows what he fucking did to you.

But he knows, deep down, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth the questions and the bullshit and the drama. Not this time, anyway. Instead, he leaves gentle kisses and soft suckles against your skin. His tongue leaves fat, wet stripes over your throat and pulse point, hot breath fanning over them between kisses. You’re keening for him as his lips begin to ascend. You’re shuddering against him as he breathes heavily, deliciously, into your ear. His hand drifts to squeeze your tit over your crop top as he continues to breathe thickly into your ear canal. The intensity forcing your skin to break out in goosebumps.

You mewl, and it’s a fucking siren song as he sucks on your earlobe. He drives his covered cock up into you as he takes the cartilage between his teeth, alternating between that and sucking like he’s trying to get milk from nipple.

“Does anyone else know what a naughty little thing you are?” he talks directly into your ear, thumb rubbing over the thin material of your top, your hardened nipples unfortunately hidden behind your push up bra. “Or do you only get like this f’me?”

“Jus’ you…” you sigh, your arm wraps around his neck so that you can hold his head the same way he had yours. Tiny little fingers toy with blonde and pink tufts, he groans slightly at the comforting feeling.

“Darlin’… you know you have to pay, don’tcha?” he asks. It’s so out of the blue, you push away from him. He grins as he watches the confusion and horror take over your facial expression. You were so blissfully at peace, lost in the feeling of his lips and his touch all over your body. “Drugs aren’t free, y’know.”

“B-But…” you think, panicking, “I— nii-chan only left me enough for emergencies…” you tell him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. He offers a fake little pout, tutting at your excuse. It’s so feeble and pathetic and he loves how easy it is to mess with you.

“Awe, baby.” he offers faux sympathy, his thumb stroking over your cheek yet again. “You better do what I say then, yeah? Gonna have to keep bein’ a good girl f’me, ‘n then we can forget the whoooole thing.”

“What do you want me to—”

He thrusts his hips up, and you lose balance, falling perfectly into his arms. He tugs at your crop top, urging you to take it off. You start pulling it upwards, though it’s too slow for his liking. He yanks it over your head, getting a quick eyeful of your tits and aqua blue bra before he sucks hard into the fat flesh of your breasts.

You’re too busy moaning, rolling your hips against him to notice he has unclasped your bra with one hand. He pulls carefully at the straps, ridding you of the material covering part of your modesty. He bites his lip and breathes heavily as he ogles them. You feel the way his cock pulses against your cunt.

“S’fuckin’ pretty—” he muses. You feel different, now. You’re fully on display for him and you are completely at his mercy. Your rational mind is telling you to give him the emergency money your brother left and send him on his way. But sadly for you, your poor neglected pussy wants him to stay and have his way with you. “You’ve gotta suck my cock, baby. Now.” he demands.

Your heartrate sky-rockets. Things are moving so fast you can barely process it at all. You look down between your thighs and see the ever-growing bulge in his shorts. Can you argue with him? Reason with him? It doesn’t matter either way, you’re already sliding carefully onto the ground and getting down on your knees between his spread legs. You aren’t sure where to start. Everything you think about doing dies a sudden death with each new idea that comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Pull it out, hurry up.”

Little hands shake as nimble fingers grip onto the waistband of his shorts. You pull and you pull and he lifts his body to help in your efforts. He almost grunts as his cock springs free, pearlescent pre leaking a ton from his twitching slit.

“Mmmm…” he moans as he grips his cock at the base, shaking it a few times so that the tip hits your nose softly, soupy liquid sticking to you as he does. “Be a good girl, show me how bad you can be.”

There’s not a single universe where you’re successfully concealing your apprehension from him, though he thinks nothing of it. He thinks you’re nervous because you’ve had a crush on him for quite some time now and you don’t want to disappoint him. Your hands carry on shaking as you grab onto his length. He’s huge, both of your little hands are holding him in your grasp and there’s still more of his thickness unable to be held.

You think to start off you should clean the tip; you lick and lave over his throbbing head and your face scrunches as you register the warm tanginess permeating your tastebuds.

His body almost dissolves into the couch as you start to take more and more of him. He shoos your hands away and holds himself so that you can balance your hands on his thighs. His free hand holds your head, forcefully attempting to shove you further and further down on his length until you’re choking on him. You’re spitting and sputtering just like you had when you smoked.

“S’cute.” he moans. The light praise encourages you to keep trying for him. So, you do, try. You try to give him mind blowing head. You try to remember to use your tongue to keep him nice and stimulated as you bob up and down on his cock. You even remember one of your friends telling you that squeezing your thumbs stops you from gagging as much.

But it’s all in vain.

Ryusei hisses, flinching from an amalgamation of too much teeth and not enough spit. He snatches you away by your hair, seeing red veins stabbing through the whites of your eyes as they begin to gloss over. A watery sheen telling him of your deepest shame and embarrassment.

“Are you a fucking virgin, baby?” he wonders. His cock spills more pre as he sees tears fall from your eyes and cascade down your cheeks. The little sniffles you can’t stop are a symphony to him and he can see the way your throat is choking back audible cries. He can hear the little croaks trapped there, though, poor thing. “Never sucked a cock before, have you?”

“’m s-so sorry.” you stop fighting your losing battle as you start to cry, utterly humiliated that your secret has come to light because you did such a terrible job giving head. “I’ll— g-get my purse ‘n then you can just g-o. I’m sor—”

He leans forward, hand snaking between your thighs to cup your cunt. “Never had a cock in her, huh? What about fingers? Anybody ever ate your pussy, sweetheart?”

“N-Nothing!” you speak, almost defiantly though that wasn’t your intention. You’re feeling vulnerable and defensive. You’re embarrassed, and he has his hand somewhere nobody has ever touched you before. “Only kissed before…”

“Mmm… no wonder you’re so wet.” he speaks, though he isn’t seeking a reply. He’s simply musing to himself. He should have known, really. When would you get a chance to fuck and learn how to suck cock when your brother practically holds you hostage in this shit hole apartment? “I won’t fuck you, today. You’re not gonna suck my cock either. Come here.” he continues, he grabs both of your wrists and drags you back to your previous position with little effort. You’re above him, again, your thighs straddling his. “Stand up, actually.” he orders, you obey.

Your tits are still exposed and you’re standing in nothing but your pleated mini skirt and silk panties beneath. He twirls his finger, encouraging you to do a spin for him. You complete it, quickly, your skirt raising ever so slightly and exposing a peak of pink silk before you find a neutral position once more.

“Slower.” he tells you, so you spin again. Slower, just for him. “Stop.” he tells you when your back is facing him.

“Is something wrong, ah—!” you yelp as he ruthlessly kicks the inside of your ankles until your legs are spread apart from each other.

“Bend over, put your hands on the table.” he instructs you. You’re slow in doing so, not wanting to rush this time; though you still feel your heartbeat in your throat. Your skirt rides up, the pink silk completely covering your most precious secret. Though he grunts at the sight, unable to control himself. His jaw clenches and bubbles at the sight of brunette curls peaking from the sides of your panties. “Holy shit, fuck.” he sibilates, thick long fingers hooking into the pink silk. He wastes no time tearing them from your body, shoving them into the pocket of his hoody.

He grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the flesh under your little skirt and parting your pussy lips in the process. He’s enamoured by the sight, the way your arousal has soaked your pubic hair. It’s shimmering, he can’t help but to touch and toy with your pubes when they’re taunting him like this. He can’t remember the last time he fucked a girl with a cute bush of hair like yours. It’s always fucking waxed and landing strips and of course he won’t complain, but seeing your intimate form in all of it’s glory like this… you’re perfect. You’re fucking holy.

He pushes a single finger hastily into your wet hole. You almost fall forward; you cry out from the feeling of being stretched for the very first time.

“Never shave this fucking pussy, yeah? Leave it like this f’me.”

You don’t reply, mind spiralling from the feeling of pain and pleasure as he burrows his finger in deeper and begins to curl it when he feels that perfect little spongy spot buried deep. Your cheeks are stained with glittering tears, the overbearing living room light not offering you any courtesy in that regard. Your tear-stricken face will be exposed to him, eventually.

Will he care?

Will he show concern?

Will he be sympathetic since he is the cause?

It appears not. He holds no consideration as he pummels a second finger inside of your gummy interior. He scissors them again and again and again until you’re practically screaming. It feels worse when he pushes against the spot. That spot that blinds your fucking vision.

“A-Ah. Aaah—!” you sob, scream, anything your body can physically project in your current state. It almost feels like an out of body experience. “Ouch! Ow, R-Ryusei. Hurts! Hurtin’ me—!” you explain. He wraps an arm around your midsection, fingers still cosy deep inside. He pulls you back, your spine flush against his chest. His hand moves from your stomach to your mouth, silencing your cries and whimpers as his fingers carry on battering your g-spot.

“Shhh, it’ll feel good in a minute.” he informs you. “Rub your clit, baby, show me how you touch this virgin cunt.” your entire body becomes scalding in an instant, the lewd language and very notion that you masturbate filling you with unease. But without question, your fingers find the swelling nub between your pussy and begin to rub and rub.

He rests his forehead against your shoulder, smiling down as he hears painful cries turn to libertine moans. His smothering hand frees your airways, allowing you to send your mewling into the airspace freely. He squeezes his cock, hard, and begins to masturbate himself. A sticky, clacking sound filling the room. It’s mixing in with the sound of your squelching cunt.

Your eyes cross as he finds a perfect rhythm with you. You’re sure you look like a bona fide whore, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re balancing on the balls of your feet with your legs spread open wide, putting your cunt on full display. Your left hand digs into the leather arm rest beside you, the only form of balance you have.

You’re so fucking loud. He’s never heard anyone scream or moan as loudly in his life, though he’s one to talk. He’s on the verge of cumming after so much torment and he couldn’t be more vocal if he tried.

“D-Do you want all the neighbours to hear what a little slut you are? Want ‘em to tell your brother you got fucked stupid while he was gone?” he asks, it’s rhetorical, of course. He doesn’t care that you’re being loud. He just wants to torment you, tease you and build that unadulterated shame that you’ve had embedded in you your whole life. You are the product of repressed sexual urges. Would you have let a drug dealer strip you and play with your cunt if you weren’t so desperate and needing to be toyed with?

“’m gonna c-cum. Fuck, Ryusei! Cumming f-for you—!” you cry, your walls squeezing his fingers until they feel close to breaking. “Oh my god…” you sob. Your poor little virgin slot throbbing and pulsating around his thick heavy fingers and you continue to cum for what feels like a lifetime. His curling fingers dragging out the feeling for as long as humanly possible.

“Hah- haah- ah, fuck!” he finishes, white, gluey fluid shooting up your back. He fucks his fist until he drains every last drop from his swollen balls. He admires his work, smearing the remaining residue on your ass cheek and your skirt. He wonders if you’ll remember to wash it, God forbid your stupid brother find a cum stain on it.

He scrapes his cum onto his fingers and orders you to face him. He brings his sperm to your lips, expecting you to know what to do.

“Eat.” he says. You hesitate. He wants you to what? It’s a liquid, you can’t eat it. Does he want you to lick his fingers? Put them in your mouth? He’s sick of waiting, however, forcing them by your lips until the bitter taste coats your tongue. “Eat it.” he looks at you with venom in his stare.

You hold his hand sweetly with both of yours. He watches you as you suck his fingers, internally thinking how much better you are doing this than you are at sucking cock. He bears his teeth, the golden one glimmering in your eye once again as you continue to clean the cum from his digits.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl. It’ll get the taste of weed out of your mouth.” he tells you. You finish sucking, releasing his fingers with a gentle pop before placing his hand back on your thigh.

He allows his fingers to lightly caress your skin. The pads carefully glide over you as you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him for the final time during this encounter. But he wanted to fuck you, didn’t he? He wanted you to suck him off properly, too. He’ll let it go for today, but this certainly won’t be the one and only time you’ll bare it all for him.

You still owe him for the weed, after all.

He thinks he might set up a depraved little payment plan for you.

© 2023 rinitxshi

#ryusei shido x reader #ryusei shidou x reader #ryuusei shidou x reader #shido ryusei x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #shido ryuusei x reader #shido x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #shidou ryusei #ryusei shidou #blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou x you #ryusei x reader #blue lock #bllk #shidou ryuusei smut #shido ryusei smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou bllk #ryusei shidou bllk #shidou bluelock #tw dubcon #tw drug use #tw dumbification #tw dacryphilia

[bitchlessdino]

I have this in mind, maybe svt member x reader where they are classmates from college, they are close but not THAT close lol. Until one day they started talking about house prices and how the rent is so expensive, but still with the desire of living alone, so he (maybe hoshi or woozi) proposed that they should find a place together to split rent. It started as a joke, but then they found a really good place and decided to try to live together for at least one semester.

so yeah at first everything is great since both of them are always busy, so they dont really see each other that often around the house.

until it could be that they are sexually frustrated and start a friends with benefits relationship (but in secret, so their circle of friends dont know about it). However, reader always had a big crush on him, but never said anything. idk what else to say

Pairing: college roommate!soonyoung x afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 5.9k tags: pwithplot, established friendship, roommate au, friends to fwb, pining, pervert!reader, pervert!soonyoung, mentions of alcohol, mutual masturbation, blowjobs, missionary, doggy, praise kink Summary: When it comes to the economy and needing a roof to live under, having a roommate is your best option, especially as any desperate college student. When arrangements are made with Soonyoung, a friend you admittedly have a visceral lust for, things take a turn one messy night. Making this arrangement more of an edible arrangement. author note: so i may have run wild since hoshi posted those thirst trap photos haha. im very proud of the header i made for this. this was something i planned on posting before my unprepared hiatus, and hopefully i'm still in spirits on continuing this. please anticipate more of me and remember that writers love interaction, criticism or not <333

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

“That’s funny, Soonyoung’s looking for a place too.”

You looked over at the man in question to see him mid-feast on a sandwich bigger than his face as it puffed his cheeks full like a common squirrel. “Why are you looking for a place? I thought you made plans with Seokmin?”

The man struggled to swallow down the larger-than-life bite, barely managing to do without scratching the back of his throat before answering. “His parents convinced him against it. I should’ve known he’d back out when he didn’t know how to do his own laundry.”

“Do you know how to do your own laundry?”

“I know there are colors and whites, detergent and softener—I’d figure it out.”

“I’m hearing a no…”

“Youtube exists. How hard could it be? But yeah, I’m looking for a place.” He set his sandwich aside to lean in closer, washing down any remnants with a swig of his Jihoon’s stolen Coke Zero, who at the moment couldn’t be more distracted with Physics paper. “It’s not easy that’s for sure. A single bedroom is way too much on its own and anything bigger I can barely cover half of.”

“Here’s an idea,” Mingyu suggested like it wasn’t on his mind for the fifteen minutes you’ve been complaining about being essentially homeless, “Why don’t you guys figure something out together?”

“Really? Me and Soonyoung?”

Your counterpart couldn’t help the offense washing over his face. “What’s wrong with me?”

“I don’t know if you’d be a good roommate.”

“What makes you roommate of the year?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each for what, a semester and a half, and I don’t know what your living habits are. I’ve basically lived alone all my life with my parents working all the time. How do I know you won’t push all the housework on me?”

Scoffing, his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “You’re looking at the flail youngest of two who did almost a decade of housework for a hundred dollar allowance for a week. I don’t waste Pinesol, I hand wash dishes, and I keep my 50 pairs of shoes neatly out of the doorway and in pristine condition.”

“You can do all that and not operate a washing machine?”

“The buttons and colors confuse me.”

“So,” Mingyu interrupted again, “How about it? Sounds like you guys a both a little desperate. The housing market isn’t getting any lower.”

“I guess you don’t sound all to bad to live with then,” You replied with a tinge of a tease.

“What do you bring to the table?” Soonyoung interjected.

“Discounts for food at my work, a Netflix account, a pack of scrub daddies, and a decent amount of disposable income for half an average month's rent and fun stuff if we ever get bored. Down?”

Soonyoung stroked his chin as if to think, but his head, the deal sounded as good as it can get. If he was being honest, he was desperate, but after the berating, he couldn’t let you know that. “Add in some salon-quality shampoos and conditioners and we have a deal.”

You groaned. “Fine, for a semester for now, but you’re getting laundry stuff and learning how to use the machines.”

You hadn’t expected to be apartment shopping with Soonyoung looking like a pair of newlyweds, but here you were doing exactly that. There wasn’t anything particular about him that bothered you, (except maybe the harboring attraction you had for him since freshman orientation that you blanketed over with over argumentative banter and an aloof attitude when he was around).

But as far as you knew, you were morning and night.  Sure, you’ve gotten along in social situations, but you knew how drastically different your lives were. When you aren’t working, you were a homebody and he’d bring bodies home. He lived differently than you did to put it plainly.

And perhaps the idea of waking up with him every morning possibly shirtless and/or naked frankly made you both terrified and aroused all at once.

The moment you shook his hand to agree, you were already feeling some regret, but hey, maybe that’ll actually do you some good. Maybe you’ll finally get over this school crush on this unattainably hot guy after seeing how disgusting he is leaving his underwear and socks in every corner of the place. It’s inevitable things can only go down from here, right? Right?

“A few ground rules should be in order.”

Soonyoung nodded, putting away the remainder of the edible arrangement gifted to you by your collective friends in the fridge. “Like what?”

“Chores should be switched off every week so we know how to handle all types at all times, but we do our own laundry. No exceptions. Dinner is a group effort. If we get takeout, always tell the other at least an hour in advance and costs are split. Groceries are bought biweekly with a set budget.”

“Strict, but ok. I’ll do my best to follow them. Anything else?”

You were reluctant to bring up this last one. You cleared you through, taking a second to properly form the words before letting them out. “If we have someone that we’re getting involved with, it’s either done at their place or in an empty apartment with plenty of notice.”

Soonyoung can’t help but bust out a wide and perfect grin, crossing his arms seeing the timid expression on your face. “Fine. I’ll make sure when I have sex with someone, it’s under those guidelines.”

“Ha, thanks,” You awkwardly respond, “I’ll abide the same.”

His eye narrowed at you dubiously. “Wait, you’ll actually get around?”

“Why are you doubting me?”

He chuckled, shrugging smooth broad shoulders through his black sleeveless tee. “You just don’t really seem about that. There’s nothing wrong with it, but—“

“You don’t know every detail of my intimate life so butt out.”

His arms rose up in defense, nodding along. “Alright, okay. If that’s all, I have a few rules of my own.”

“Okay. Have at it.”

He mused to himself for a few seconds. “Bathroom schedule: first come first serve.”

You nodded, easy enough.

“At a few hours of the day, the living room becomes an at-home gym when needed.”

Okay, that one had a little kick to it. “Alright.”

“And we have a safe word.”

You blinked back at him, heart pounding a little louder than it should, legs clenching as if they were being pried apart, and sweat burning the temple of your forehead with the unnecessarily dirty thoughts running through your mind. “A w-what?”

“A safe word,” he repeated as a matter of fact, “a word we can use when there’s conflict and something wrong and we just completely stop what we’re doing.” He grinned a little. “It’s not just for sex you know.”

You shoved him, earning his chuckle. “I know that, jerk. But fine, what do you suggest?”

“…Tiger.”

“How did I know that’s what you’d say?”

“Because we’re good friends.”

“How about ‘hamster’?”

He frowned. “No.”

“But look how effective that was.��

For the most part, things went smoothly. It helped that things got busy and tasks barely needed to get done with the exception of laundry. You saw each other more in your friend group gatherings than at home in your shared arrangement, and despite everyone knowing you live together, neither of you made it a point to make a big deal about it, even if everyone else does.

The countless times you had to fight Seokmin, Jeonghan, or Jihyo about the possibility of something developing between you and your new roommate romantically pained you with their inaccuracy. It seemed left and right that’s all everyone could talk about since it was arranged. It seemed as if there was nothing better up for discussion. Soonyoung dealt with it all the same, being constantly asked what kind of nefarious doings are being done behind closed doors that no one knows about. It always came as a disappointment when it was broken towards them that nothing was happening and that nothing ever will.

Even to you. Surprising enough.

If you learned anything from living with Soonyoung, it was harder than you expected it to be, especially with a still festering crush that is only developing into something almost tangibly heart-wrenching and stomach churning. It seemed to have taken a turn for the worse when Soonyoung started to take advantage of the home gym more due to the massive heatwave in town. 

The damn pull up bar.

You’ve only realized the time you’ve wasted after hearing the kettle whistle you put out apparently ten minutes ago. Your mind was too clouded by the flex of his biceps lifting his body in the air. Or the contracting and releasing of his shoulders that were lightly misted by perspiration. Or were too preoccupied with wanting to lick off the veins of the poor man’s lower abdomen. Or thinking about what those arms could do flinging you upside a—

“Oh, early class?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s a lot more traffic today, so I'm getting there earlier than usual.” 

His feet landed on the ground with a thud and he grabbed a towel to wipe over the sweat that was making his body glisten like glaze on a smooth buff donut. “I’m guessing you have no time for breakfast then?”

“Unfortunately,” you respond, quickly pouring your tea into your thermos before getting to your shoes, “I was gonna grab something at the Starbucks on campus after.”

“Here.” He tossed something from a box behind him and watched as you flimsily caught it from the front door.

“Oh.” A protein bar, a good one from your experience of raiding his side of the pantry. “Thanks.”

“And cancel all previous engagements. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

You squinted at him, “Why?”

“We’ll have something nice for once tonight,” he grinned, “be home at 8 tonight.”

Soonyoung’s plan for dinner was a free courtesy of Mingyu who found a nice little gig as a sous chef in a trendy place uptown. The whole circle celebrated together and you only got around to knowing after Soonyoung kept you updated on news knowing you’d be too busy to look at the giant groups chat you’re in. You should’ve been appreciative. That should’ve been your first instinct, not…entitlement. Not envious of him making eyes and flirting with the waitres. Not embarrassment for expecting something more from his brazen invite to dinner with you.

So, by then you’ve had a bit to drink. Okay, a lot to drink. Just enough to drink to have you stumbling on the center dance floor that garnered the attention of prying eyes. At that moment, nothing really mattered. You knew where lines lie, but lines eventually blur.

One second, you’re alone swaying to Britney Spears’ “toxic”, another second, Seungcheol’s crotch is up against your ass. It was a nice sentiment since you were definitely craving a bit of attention tonight, although you weren’t sure if you could look your friend in the eye again after that. Fortunately for you, it only got so far until a shapeless, but familiar, body pulled you away from the scene, forcibly putting you away in a bright yellow car. With your many failed protests, they managed to reach the footsteps of your building and finally reached for keys in their front pockets to open up your apartment.

“Hold still. Please…God, I am not sober enough for this.”

“Soonyoung….” You whined like a lost child.

He gripped you tighter by the arm to lock you in place, preventing you from falling. He was used to being taken care for and the grass was not greener on the other side. He has a lot of people he needs to apologize to. “Almost…okay, okay. I’m in. Go. Go shower and sober yourself up.”

You tugged him at the wrist, pulling him towards you. “Shower with me…”

He scoffed, a smug smile forming on his face. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Go before I make you, and I really don’t wanna have to make you.”

“Fineee…”

Logic flew out the window tonight. Not paying it a second thought, you began stripping yourself of your clothes in the middle of the living room, from socks to immediately your shirt. Soonyoung’s eyes nearly shot out of his skull as he scrambled to cover you in your abandoned shirt before it almost hit the ground.

“Undress in the bathroom please.” Even in your intoxicated state, you could feel the tension of his muscles brush against your back, causing the heat to creep up on your skin.

You let yourself melt into him giggling, turning your head back to meet his cautious eyes. “Maybe you’d like to help with that.”

You can see the bit of shock in his eyes, fluttering back to something more composed once he internally reminded himself this was the ramblings of a drunk person. “You really don’t know what you're saying.” He then pushed you inside the restroom, holding the door by its knob, “Shower and brush your teeth. I’m not letting you out until I’m sure you’re done.”

“Soonyoung…”

“Please, just do it.”

Eventually, he finally convinced you to do as he asked and he hears the shower running, but a mere second later a thud follows. You busted out in a fit of pain, slipping on the already wet floor and immediately your roommate comes running in concerned. “What happened?”

He turned his head the second he processed your fallen body on the ground was bare naked. Shower water poured down on your head, drenching you from head to toe, and glistening your body like a wet dream. Your eyes lit up at him in a timid demure, barely covering your intimate parts with your arms and hands. He coughed dramatically, pinching himself to find restraint, and repeated his quarry of concern with avoidant eyes before you pointed out the obvious, “I fell.”

“Hold on to the rails, that’s what they’re for,” he groaned.

“Sorry.”

He sighed, slightly glancing. “Do you need help?”

You shook your head even when he wasn’t looking. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Good. Just be careful and tell me when you’re done.”

And you’re alone again.

You pulled yourself up from your pathetic state and then the warm water run through your features, letting out a loud sigh. You finished up the best you could, ridding yourself of a night full of grime. Grabbing a towel on the rack, you wrapped it around your damp nude before letting Soonyoung know from the other side of the door. He finally let you free from his handmade prison before watching you go scurry to your bedroom in a concoction of drunken embarrassment.

You muttered to yourself scoldings for letting something like that happen, clenching your legs together in bed the moment you hear his round of shower hit the tiles through the thin walls. A groan unexpectedly sounds off abundantly clear, and your shameless thoughts take action while he’s preoccupied. 

Still naked, you let the towel fall to the ground and you crawl under the sheets of your bed, not caring in the slightest about your hair getting your pillows wet. Your hands slowly trail down to your chest, ghosting over your skin until the pads of your fingers finally found what’s between your legs. You moaned at your self-discovery. Filming your fingers with your filthy arousal, a smile derived from self-indulgence shaped on your face. There you let your fingers slide between your folds and you shudder.

Meanwhile, Soonyoung couldn’t get your image out of his head. The glimpse alone was enough to make him think of you in compromising positions. Lips around his angry stiff cock, your tongue sliding against the veins of his shaft. He’d then hear the wet suction, the vibrations of your mouth humming around his skin, moaning his name like the perfect dessert you were. He groaned again to himself, pressing his length against his abdomen, not thinking you’d hear.

But you do. In fact, it’s so coherent, it makes you wet enough seep past your thighs, trailing down your legs. Your fingers plunged in you deeper while the palm of your hand rubbed against the shape of your clit. Your hips heave up from the mattress, pressing deeper into your palm as the image of Soonyoung’s face stayed a constant in your intoxicated head.

Soonyoung could hear your moans through it all, even if you didn’t think they did, and you only further fed his imagination. He braced against the wall behind him, thrusting into his fist with gritted teeth. The squeeze he had on his girth was merciless and all he had to rid of his overwhelming sin. In his head, you batted your pretty eyes back him, trailing your hands over his body, mouth gaping that looked ready to be filled one way or another. He threw his head back, whispering your name softly. “Oh, baby…you look so good swallowing my cock.”

You felt tears soak your eyes, swallowing a desperate breath.“Mmh, fuck…just like that please…”

“Gonna fuck your pretty pussy…” His thrusts roughly pulled himself at his base, clenching the life around it.

“You’re so deep, fuck, you feel so good—“

“You’re gonna make me cum—“

“Shit, I’m gonna cum—“

“Shit—“

“Shit—“

Simultaneously, you both were freed of your tension, a sudden release of breath escaping your lungs. The spilled cum fell at Soonyoung’s feet, melting in the heat of the water before it followed down the drain, while you fell slumped in bed in your own filth. You lazily reached out for your towel to clean the rest of the mess, tore away your dirty sheets, and settled into a tired slumber.

Soonyoung, overwashed with shame, hung his head down as he quietly cursed to himself. He shut off the shower head and reached for his towel. He finally concludes this evening, having taken a load off. There wasn’t much left on his mind that night, only teh thought of wanting it to be over.

The morning comes sooner than you realize and you find yourself at the mercy of a shirtless Soonyoung like most mornings, except this time he wasn’t doing pull-ups. Instead, he walked to you, a vigor to his stride and he decidedly met your eyes, while you were still focused on his body.

“You’re not very good at hiding things,” he said with a knowing smile.

“Soonyoung—“

“Should I just give you what you want? Should I fuck the shit out of you until all I can hear is my name?”

An answer was caught in the tightness of your throat when he lifted you off the ground and instinctively made you wrap your legs around his bare torso. The heat of his body is all you could focus on until he planted you flat on your kitchen counter, parting your legs to reveal the sudden bareness beneath your oversized t-shirt.

He licked his lip, tensing up his abdomen excitedly before he found home between your thighs. Your fingers threaded through his hair, crying out in soft breaths, and pulling his head back to meet his pretty eyes glossed over with lust. 

He mumbled into your skin, specifically one thing. And he said it over again and over again. Unable to make out what he says, you asked him to repeat it more clearly. It was then he rose up to the surface, a sticky sweet sheen of your arousal in his lips before he drew them close to your ear. His breath fanned your skin, shivers running down your spine, and finally what he says makes sense.

“Wake up.”

Your eyes ripped open like the ground beneath you should’ve. You ran a hand over your face, groaning at your own dismay. “What the actual fuck…”

It took a minute for you to pull yourself out of bed, groggy and with a raging headache to blow over throughout the day, only to be met with nearly an identical circumstance you met in your dream. Your roommate’s bare back stared back at you as brightly as the morning sun. You shrunk back at the reminder of your dream, walking on eggshells towards him to reach the fridge. “Morning.”

Soonyoung coughed on his water recognizing your presence, timidly greeting you back.

“Plans today?” You asked.

He nodded, “Yeah, classes in the afternoon.”

The silence couldn’t be more deafening.

“You.”

“Yeah, me too. Will be back at home at 9 after work.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

And soon you parted, embarrassed that encountered ever happened.

The rest of the day, there was much of seeing each other like most days, but this particular instance felt there was more of a reason to it. Even when it came around to your mutually available time at lunch, you made the extra effort not to run into him. How could you?

After making a pass on him and making the half-conscious decision of touching yourself to him while he was in the shower?

You’d be insane to go about things as if they were normal. They weren’t. 

When you came home that night, he was home like he always was, yet nowhere in sight. You knew he was home when you noticed his bike locked up where it normally was and shoes placed at the front of the door. You were tempted to call out his name but refrained when you reminded yourself you were yet ready for that confrontation yet.

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have a choice in the matter as  Soonyoung seemed to be already walking out of his room, shocked to see you actually home despite it being the time you said you’d be home by. “Hey…”

“Hey.” You let your stuff down before heading to the kitchen. “Did you eat yet?”

“Uh, yeah. I got pizza with a few Chan and Seungkwan.”

“Cool. I’m just gonna make myself something real quick.”

“Alright.”

“Did you need something?”

“Hmm?”

You pointed to his door. “You came out of your room.”

“Right,” he quickly scanned the floor before claiming nearly finished bottle of water on the couch's corner table. “W-water. I got thirsty.”

Obviously, it was an excuse, but you weren’t going to point it out with your lack of backbone. “Okay, well, I’m out here if you need anything.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Before he retreated back to the room, a halt was squeezed out of your throat, catching him in his eager steps. He turned to you with unfocused eyes, hard swallowing in an attempt to calm himself down. “What is it?”

“I need to get this off my chest. Yesterday…I’m really sorry for everything yesterday.”

He sighed. That’s what all that was? “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Also. Shit, um. I don’t know why I’m saying this because it's not like it matters. Well, it does a little bit. It could totally come off wr—“

“Hey,” he interrupted, “I doubt it’s as big a deal as your making it out to be, and I’m okay with not knowing.”

“But you should know actually.” You steadily approached him, letting out an exaggerated exhale. “Yesterday, you were showering and I don’t know what got over me. Well, I was drunk, so I guess there was that bit. Anyway, I heard you, you know, and I guess I—“

“Touched yourself when I was in the shower?”

You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. “Okay, we’re getting right into it, but yeah. It just felt weird not telling you, I just—“

“You knew I was masturbating?”

“Well, yeah? It was obvious if I’m being honest. Not the point. I invaded your privacy and indulged in it. I don’t know, maybe it’s been a while since…I just want to apologize.”

“For what, overhearing me whack myself off,” he took a step closer, eyes a lot like your dream meeting yours, “or for cumming to the thought of me?”

You breathed out through your nose. In and out. Your eyes for the life of you could not stay steady. “B-both?”

“If we’re being honest here, I should come clean too, shouldn’t I?”

Your hand steadied on the couch, almost letting the force of gravity pull you down along with your sanity, but tried maintaining eye contact as if that would change the dynamic even a little bit. “About what?”

Soonyoung finally found the humor in the situation to smile, one that caused the stagger in your step. “About how your face would come up when I touched myself in the shower.”

“Soonyoung—“

“You can be mad at me, but I won't be mad at you for doing the same thing I did. I don’t regret it because that was the best orgasm I’ve had in mon—“

You silenced his lips with your own, launching you into him until all you felt was the heat of his furnace of a body. His hands claimed the small of your back before pressing your curves into his hollows. He received your lips feverishly, moving against you as if in heated debate, and crashed your body into the furniture closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you were this eager,” he mumbled, “you should've told me.”

Your hand gripped his hair, your teeth taking his bottom lip between and pulling, emitting illicit whines that filled your stomach with warmth. Your leg propped to his side, embracing him hungrily there wasn’t even space to breathe. His hips knocked back into you, his bulge grinding against your clothed heat as he arched you over the back of the couch.

“You’re a bit mean. I like that.” He giggled.

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

“May I remind you, you kissed me.”

“And I can back out right this second.”

“Oh, but we can’t have that,” he utilized his upper strength to lift you off the ground looped tightly around his torso, a gasp leaving your lips. You reunite with his eyes that are now leveled with yours. You’ve looked into them before but it shocked you with how dark they are, how earnest they look. “You see it, don't you? How much I want you? I see it in your eyes too.”

“T-this a tactic you use on all people you sleep with?”

He shook his head. “Just you, and only because I really want you.”

Your hand planted against his cheek, the curve of your palm hugging his jaw. His breath hitches from the mere tenderness in your eyes. His body has ever only told him he was you carnally and raw, but that gaze. If he would just bottle that gaze and show off like a trophy.

Your hand crawled over to the nape of his neck, there your digits ran up his hair, pushing him innately close to yours, and you whispered cautiously, “We can never tell the others.”

“I’ll take this to my grave if it’s what you want.”

You nodded. “Good boy.”

He transported you to his room, dropping you on his mattress with him to follow. Your lips stay glued together a perfect mold, tongue clashing in a union that you’ve only even dreamt of having. Soonyoung only briefly pulled away to reveal his torso. He was firm, flushed to the touch, and heaving under the heat of your palm.

You gasped as he pressed his body against your touch, smiling against your skin as he asked if you liked what you were seeing. All you could do was nod, somehow lost in the trance that you never wanted to escape. His mouth took your neck, roaming starved as his hands undressed you down to your underwear.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” He slipped you out from your sleeves and made skin contact. Chest to chest, waist to waist, hips to hips. You sense his want through touch alone and for once being wrong felt so incredibly right. What a relief to know, he felt what you did. “I never wanted someone this badly before.”

“Soonyoung…”

He nipped your neck, teeth scratching against your skin. “You say my name like that, I’ll have no choice but to ruin you. Be careful around me. Or don’t. I’d show you a good time either way.”

“You’re—mmp—such a…ah—s-sweet talker.” You could hardly talk back. He made love to your skin as if he’d done it before, touching every pressure of your body like a skilled lover, both attentively yet without remorse.

“I’m only saying what I’ve been thinking. Like how desperate I am to feel myself between your thighs.” He tugged down your underwear to your feet and let the fall to the ground, allowing your legs to hook around him. “Or how your lips taste like caramel coffee, the candy you eat every time you need a ‘pick me up.’”

“You pay attention to that?” You asked, fiddling over the button of his pants.

“I don’t make an effort to, I just do.” He found your hands, aiding you in your efforts, soon you heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He held your gaze still, guiding your hand over his hard cock, taking from the base up to the shaft. You swallowed memorizing his shape, his length, his weight. There was so much you wanted to be able to share with this part of him alone. “Now it’s your turn to pay attention to me.”

Your lips stretched over your cheeks. “What makes you think I don’t?” 

You trace over something particular with your other hand, something that bulges at you even with his pants on. You lifted yourself to sit up, folding your calves behind your thighs. Stroking his length with one hand, you admire your veins leading down his lap with the other. “I’ll have you know, my patience is admirable. It took a lot within me to blatantly ignore these pretty veins you have on your stomach.”

“Someone’s never called them that before,” he chuckled, “no one’s even acknowledged them before.”

“I guess no one’s been privileged enough to see them as often as I do. Lucky me.” You thumbed over the blue, scrapping over its stroke as you lowered your head and your lips wrapped around the head. You covered his underside, tugging  your lips around him, and watching his jaw drop lower when you began covering more of his length.

“I’m the lucky one,” he acknowledged, his hand dropping to the crown of your head before caressing the length of your hair. “You should see how good you look sucking my dick right now. I’m never gonna see this image without wanting to cum on the spot.”

You steadied yourself at his hips, tongue gliding over the underside, and you hugged your cheeks tighter around his girth. Eyes fluttered back at him, and you wretched to take more of him, already felt him hit the back of your throat. When you heard him moan, it fed you more encouragement, giving your best efforts to fit all of him. You coughed at the tightness in your throat but remained resilient. The vicious substance of your saliva coated him from tip to base as your hand stroked him repeatedly, pushing him deeper into you until your vision grew weary. 

Soonyoung told you to take it slow, stroking the back of your head with a gentle hand. You inhaled him for as long as you could, the sounds of your efforts growing dim the deeper he made it past your mouth. Ultimately, tears ran down your cheeks, oxygen cut from your airways, and you felt no choice but to pull him out, resting his cock between your fingertips as you gasped for breath.

That breath was quickly stolen when Soonyoung dived in to claim it, his body caging yours. His weight against yours was comforting, enticing, addicting. He moaned your name sweetly like a song, and it filled your stomach with embers of desire. “You’re so hot…I’d make you do that again if I wasn’t worried about killing you.”

You pathetically scoffed in an attempt to cover up discomfort. “That? Pff, I’m fine.”

He grinned, kissing you long and deep. “You’re so cute when you lie. I’ll make sure to return the favor now.”

Pulling at your thighs, he dragged them towards him, barely touched your eager heat, and his twitch urging you to pull him close. He leaned over somewhere behind you to tear open a condom, rolling it over himself. As he drew closer, so did you, feeling the inviting head of his cock glide over your wet cunt, you trembled in thought. Soonyoung, just—

“Put it in me.”

“Now, now. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled cheekily.

“Soonyoung,” You whined.

Your impatience is rewarded when he plunged himself in slowly, but completely, embracing the stretch of your walls as he filled you out. “So…needy...”

His initial thrust is deep, strong, and then he landed another, quickly adjusting to the plush of your pussy. You held your thighs back to your chest, and spread your legs wide for him. Your pretty lips weren’t shy with praising him, asking him for more of his pretty cock, and earning just as you ask. “You’re mind-numbing, shit…what a good fucking pussy…”

“Your cock’s so g-good in me…you feel so good inside me, Soonyoung…”

“Fuck, say my name like that again.”

He flipped you on your stomach, pressing his fingers into your as he found his pace from behind you, ramming into you until your cunt has tasted every inch of his cock. You gasped as his hand maneuvered you to push back against him, like a toy to be played with he used every bit of you, your energy, your sexuality, and he embraced it. You felt amazing. 

“Soonyoung, I’m—ah—I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re gonna cum around my cock? Hmm? Is that it? My cock fucking you that good?”

You bit into his cheeks nodding, in the urge to respond before the wave of arousal crashed into you. You were clenching your stomach as his name came in tidal waves, grinding towards him to prologue the high. Loudly, you cursed, balling the sheets underneath you into fists. 

Soonyoung nodded proudly, the shaky view of your body trembling beneath him fuels his ego and it’s not long before he orgasms, filling the condom until it nearly burst. He pulled out of you finally, quickly discarding the trash before he joined you in bed, hugging your fatigued body to his side and there was silence. Only silence.

And breathing. Mainly Soonyoung’s. And that went on for a good fifteen minutes until someone spoke again.

“I’m glad I waited for that.”

You looked up at your roommate curiously, the smile on his face felt warmer every time you saw it. “What was that?”

He met your gaze, hand softly moving over your hair. “I feel like I’ve gotten closer to you. I always wanted that.”

“Really?”

He nodded, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Who knew sex would make us closer friends?”

Your body ran cold, in the distance you could hear the shattering of glass far off from reality. You stayed frozen under his touch as he embraced you closer to his naked body, hooking his chin over your neck. “We should do this again. I wouldn’t mind getting used to this.”

That’s what you were scared of. Getting used to this. To this arrangement. To the sensation of his cock inside you. To the sense that it’d never be more than you hoped it would be. You’d never have Soonyoung be yours, but you knew somehow you’d always be his.

#svthub #seventeen smut #hoshi smut #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung smut #hoshi #kwon soonyoung smut #svt hoshi #seventeen #seventeen hoshi #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #hoshi x reader #hoshi x you #hoshi x y/n

[steddielations]

It's just another boring day running the store, even more boring than normal since Robin’s out sick. There’s not any kids around either, the beanbags by the bookshelves have been empty all day.

Steve’s working his shift alone. It’s all very mundane, just waiting for the clock to run out. That is, until the door flies open.

It’s just a flash of black clothing and the clinking of metal accessories as the figure suddenly barrels right over the counter. Steve shouts and immediately reaches for the nail bat— yes the nail bat— he keeps behind the register. He brandishes it menacingly as the person stands upright.

It’s a man, with crazy wild hair and even crazier eyes, widening comically at the bat and holding his hands up. He squawks at Steve.

“Whoa, hey! What is that thing?! What the hell, man!?”

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me, I’m the one what the helling you here!” Steve snaps back.

“What!”

“Just tell me what you think you’re doing here, punk!”

Something like disbelief comes over his face, and he lowers his hands to gesture over himself, “Dude, I’m clearly a metalhead.”

“I’m gonna put some metal in your head if you don’t start talking,” Steve snarls, gripping the bat tighter.

“Okay, okay!” His hands flail, shifty eyes bugging out the front windows before he suddenly crouches down behind the counter, “Just let me hide out here for a minute, there’s— people after me that I can’t deal with right now.”

“Oh yeah, what 'people’?” Steve narrows his eyes at the expensive looking chain dangling around his neck, some kind of red pendant on it, “Did you get caught stealing from the jewelry store next door?”

Again, he gives that look, not the typical guilty look when Steve chases down the usual petty thief, he just looks like he can’t believe he’s in this situation, as if he’s not the one that hopped over the counter.

“I didn’t steal anything, alright? I just need to wait here until it’s all clear.”

“Mr. Simon is chasing you, isn’t he?” Steve groans, lowering the bat to rub his hand over his face. He hates that old jeweler, always complaining about Steve taking his parking space when he doesn’t even have a car to use it. “Christ, okay. He might have a war flashback and actually kill you, and I already have enough shit on my conscience. You got two minutes.”

“Five?”

“One and a half.”

“Okay, Jesus. Two please and I’ll let you have a picture after, whatever you want.”

Steve thinks it’s a weird thing to offer at first, then it clicks.

“Yeah, I do want a picture ‘cause your ass is going on the banned wall,” Steve points the bat to the array of photos on the back wall, right up there with the little pricks that kept asking what shelf the skin mags were on, and the asshole that was rude to Robin once.

The guy looks over and he… chuckles, “Starting to think I picked the wrong counter to hide behind.”

Steve glares when he’s met with the stranger’s smile, “You think?”

“The rainbows in the window caught my eye, thought they were pretty cool,” he gives Steve a kind, but measured look, “I’m assuming the bat is for people who don’t?”

That rocks Steve a little. The subtle touches of rainbow decorating the storefront were Robin’s idea, just a welcoming sign for those who know what it means, who need it. Which, apparently, is this guy too, dark eyes watching as Steve makes the connection.

Plus, the kind of kids that get off the bus and hang out in the beanbag corner of the bookstore, also tend to be the type that bullies flock to, but not here, Steve makes sure of that. Not with the nail bat, that’s for things more serious than school bullies.

“Is that who’s after you?” Steve asks, shooting a look out the window. His gut starts to twist in some form of empathy for the guy, it would make sense why he hurtled inside so quickly.

“No, nothing like that, but I still need to lay low for a second.”

Steve squints, empathy gone.

“Okay well, the bat is for thieves too, then. You know, Mr. Simon might be a mean old shit, but he doesn’t deserve to be stolen from. He’s got a family, dude.”

“Well, isn’t that admirable. Look, I appreciate what you’re doing here, the whole local protector, vigilante bat-man thing, it’s pretty badass,” A pun. This would-be thief really just made a damn pun about Steve’s would-be murder weapon. “But I didn’t take anything from anyone, Stevie boy.”

Pun forgotten, Steve grips the bat tighter, demanding to know, “How do you know my name?”

Another annoying smile as the guy gestures to his chest, where Steve’s name tag is. Right.

“Tell me yours,” he counters, noticing how the guy’s smile falters, looking hesitant, crouching lower, hiding. Steve sighs, “I’m not gonna go to the cops, man. Your face is going on the wall and your name is going on the list.”

This guy is just smirking way too much for someone in his situation, “Wow, I must be real special then. It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Okay then, Munson,” Steve narrows his eyes at the necklace again, “If you didn’t take anything, then where’d you get that chain, huh?”

This Eddie looks caught off guard, his mouth already formed into some excuse that Steve cuts off.

“Just hand it over,” he flourishes the bat this time, satisfied with how Eddie looks both impressed and intimidated. His eyes stay on Steve as he removes the necklace, dark and alive with something, like he’s enjoying this somehow.

“Okay fine, easy with that thing, big boy. You can keep it for now as collateral for letting me stay.”

He passes Steve the chain, and Steve doesn’t want to fuss with his jean pockets so he just slips it over his head, Eddie’s eyes tracking where it falls around his neck. He sees it’s not a pendant like he thought, it’s a red guitar pick resting against his chest. Not Simon’s usual merchandise, but the chain definitely is, it’s expensive, Steve can tell.

“But, as good as it looks on you, I’m gonna need it back when you realize it’s not stolen.”

Annoyance. That’s the flare of heat Steve feels, it has to be, this whole exchange is getting him hot under the collar. He obviously knows Eddie’s hitting on him, not the first time he caught someone up to no good, and they clocked the rainbows and tried to flirt their way out of it. And this guy isn’t bad looking, maybe under different circumstances in a nice bar somewhere, Steve would flirt right back, but he’s not falling for it now.

He’s glad the couple minutes are up, doesn’t know why he checks out the windows to make sure it’s all clear for Eddie.

Bat still in hand, he makes Eddie stand while he fishes out the polaroid camera behind the counter.

“Don’t you want to get in the photo?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s free hand snaps to his hip, “And why would I want that?”

“Right,” Eddie grins, sticking out his tongue when Steve holds up the camera, throwing up that same hand sign that Dustin keeps making nowadays when the flash goes off. “No fun kissin’ a picture of yourself. Or, maybe it is when you look like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Playing cute with me isn’t gonna get you off the hook,” and sits the newly printed polaroid on the counter, ignoring the way his cheeks feel hot. It’s just the adrenaline coming down.

He finally puts the bat away, still watching warily as Eddie comes closer, picking up a pen and scribbling what looks to be his phone number on the photo.

“Gotta say, this was nice, Steve. I’d love to do it again sometime,” he smirks, hopping back over the counter the same way he came, “I mean it though, give me a call about that necklace. What kinda rockstar would I be without my lucky guitar pick?”

“Yeah right,” Steve snorts, “I don’t wanna catch you around here again. I never forget a face, Munson, especially not yours.”

“I’m flattered,” he pats his hand over his heart, then throws Steve a wave as he pushes open the door, “Keep that up and you can call me anytime.”

One last wink that sort of makes Steve’s chest flutter and he’s gone. It’s nothing, just some crazy guy that annoyed him half to death, and he hopes he never sees again.

When his shift ends later that evening, he goes next door to try and return the necklace to Mr. Simon, but he insists that it wasn’t stolen from his shop.

Steve’s starting to think he may have accidentally robbed someone at nail-bat-point. But it’s not possible because that’s not possible. How do you accidentally rob someone? What crime would he even be charged with? A little oopsie burglary? Ridiculous.

No, the old man is just out of his mind and doesn’t recognize his own shit. It’s the only thing that would make sense in that whole bizarre situation. Who else would Eddie have been ‘hiding’ from? Why else was it so urgent that he handed over the necklace without much fuss?

It’s not until days later when Dustin hops onto the counter that Steve really realizes.

“Steve,” Dustin says slowly, “Why am I looking at a picture of Eddie freaking Munson on the banned wall?”

Steve looks around, “That guy? You know him? I caught him stealing from Mr. Simon the other day.”

“You— He— What!? He was here?” Dustin sputters, “Steve, I’m 1000% sure he wasn’t stealing shit! What did you do to him?”

“I did my job, Henderson. I banned him from the store and got back the necklace he took— What— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Steve.”

It’s over the course of the next conversation, getting completely chewed up and spit out by Dustin that Steve learns he didn’t just accidentally rob someone.

“STEVE.”

He accidentally robbed a world famous rockstar.

Steve spends the next few days so deeply embarrassed that he can’t even dare to pick up the phone. He gave Eddie such a hard time when all he needed was a place to hide out so he didn’t get mobbed by fans and paparazzi.

Looking back on it, knowing what he knows now, Eddie handled it with such grace. Steve’s even more ashamed, not because of the whole rockstar thing, but because it's shitty to hurl accusations and a deadly nail bat at anyone, and take their stuff on top of that.

He finally bolsters up the courage to dial the number. As soon as he hears ‘what’s up, it’s Munson’ on the other line, he lets loose a string of apologies and a promise to give the necklace back as soon as he can.

It gets cut short with that same chuckle that still gives him a warm chill even down the phone line.

“Keep it. Looks better on you,” he can hear the smile in Eddie’s voice, “But that means you’re gonna have to come to my show tonight. Can’t play without my lucky guitar pick, can I?”

#and that’s steve’s meet cute gone wrong with his rockstar boyfriend #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #steddie fic #famous eddie munson #steddie ficlet #bookstore owner steve #eddie munson headcanon #my fics #steve harrington headcanon #rueswriting #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #stranger things #meet cute #maybe i’ll fluff this up into a full fic at some point who knows

[scarlethexelove]

Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4281

Warnings: Angst, Pregnant!Reader, Natasha being an ass, injuries, Depression, Wanda being the bestest of friends.

Part 2: Gone

A/n: Had this one in my head for some time and finally decided to write it. As it always seems these fics just seem to run wild and get longer than I mean them to be. I can tell you all right now I'm pretty sure your not going to like the ending very much 😅

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Natty.” You try to get your wife's attention as she moves around the room quickly. Natasha is shoving things in a bag. “Nat.” You try again, but she doesn’t stop. Frantically moving around the room grabbing whatever she can. “Natasha!” You finally yell at her. She still doesn’t stop her movements. “Y/n I can’t right now.” She says shoving the last of her things in her bag. “Nat I have something important to tell you.” You try to reason with the woman, but she just zips her bag throwing it over her shoulder and walks past you. “There are things you don’t understand. I have to go.” You grab her arm and she finally looks back at you. “I really need to tell you this.” You try to reason with her. Your eyes pleading with her just to let you talk. But she shakes her head and pulls her arm from your grasp. “There are more important things than you right now.” She makes it to the door letting it creak open. “We will talk when I get home.” She doesn’t face you, only slightly turning her head before she is gone. “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.” You see her hesitate in the door but she shakes her head before slamming the door shut behind her. 

Your heart shatters in your chest as your legs buckle beneath you. A muffled thud is heard as your knees hit the ground. Your hand covers your mouth as a sob escapes the depths of your chest. You pull the small stick from your back pocket looking down at the two pink lines. “I’m pregnant.” You whisper to yourself like somehow Nat will hear you and come back, but you know she won’t. To Natasha her job has always been more important than anything. She loves being an Avenger and helping people, but it always comes at a cost to you. You had a sliver of hope that maybe just maybe this could change that. After what she had gone through in the red room she was pretty sure that she couldn’t get you pregnant but here you are. The prospects of having a child had given you hope that maybe she would come back to you. Be the loving wife that you know she can be. The little pink lines now taunting you as tears splash down on the plastic blurring your vision and the once prominent lines. 

It seems like hours before you finally pick yourself up off the ground. Finally having cried all the tears away. Pulling yourself off the ground as you wipe your cheeks before making your way to your shared bedroom. It is empty, too empty. The book Nat was reading was still sitting face down open to the page that she had left it on. Moon light shining through the curtains illuminating the dark room. You don’t bother turning on the lights or changing clothes as you crawl into the cold bed. Seeming much larger now than ever before. You curl in on yourself, exhaustion from all the tears you have cried catching up to you. A pain in your chest as you finally drift off into nothingness. 

Over the next few days multiple new stations report of the Avengers fighting one another. The chaos and destruction of a German airport. You place a hand over your lower stomach as the news flashes. ‘Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow has broken the Sokovia Accords. Now wanted for treason against the federal government.’ If you thought your heart couldn’t break more you were wrong. 

It has been nearly four months since that fateful day. The day your world shattered around you. You had hoped that one day maybe Nat would try and contact you but those hopes had been dashed over a month ago. She had moved on and so should you. You slowly pack your things in the home that you once shared with your wife. You’re not even sure if you should call her that anymore. A single tear running down your cheek at the thought. You still love her deeply but you can’t live like this. You have a baby to think about now, you need to live for them. Placing your hand on your growing stomach as you gently rub your finger up and down feeling their movement and smiling. 

A phone ringing breaks you from the tender moment. You grab your phone looking down to see an unknown number calling you. Your heart stops a moment wondering if after all this time it is finally Nat calling you. You're so distracted by the tight feeling in your chest that the phone stops ringing and the call ends. You still stare blankly at the screen before it starts to ring again. Phone lighting up in your hand once again still showing unknown as the caller. 

This time you press the answer button. Your movements are slow as you bring it up to your ear. You open your mouth but no words come out, your breaths coming out erratic as you begin to panic. Your ear is soon filled with a soft voice. “Y/n/n?” That voice is distinct but not your wifes. “Y/n are you there?” The voice asks again. “W-Wanda?” Your voice trembles as your mind catches up. Your best friend is on the other side of the line. 

This is the first time you have heard from any of the Avengers for a long time. Tony once stopped by but you refuse to let him in. You didn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke through the door. If it wasn’t for him you don’t think you would be in this position right now and maybe your hopes for a better future with Nat would have come true. Wanda had sent a few letters letting you know she was ok. You couldn’t obviously send anything back due to now knowing where she was and the nature of the events and why she was also on the run. 

“Y/n/n?” Wanda’s voice breaks through your mind once again. “I-I’m sorry Wands. What were you saying?” Her words had been muffled by your mind. She shakes her head like you could possibly see her doing that. “Nothing sweetheart. Are you ok?” She can tell that something isn’t right. “Not really. I, I’m alone.” Wanda’s heart breaks for you. She may be on the run but she hasn’t been alone. “I’m tired, Wands.” You know you shouldn’t be thinking that with a child on the way but it has been hard. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you sniffle into the phone. 

Wanda made a decision right there. “Sweetheart, I'm going to send Vision to come and get you.” She knows it could be dangerous to have you with her but she also knows that you’re not a wanted fugitive so if for some reason that she is caught you will be left alone. But she will do everything in her power to keep you safe. She can’t stand to hear you this hurt and down. “W-what if that gives away where you are?” You question not wanting to bring her into any danger. “I’m safe here. If you want to, you can come here. We have to move every so often. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’m not going to leave you alone. You always have me.” You cry tears of happiness for the first time in a long time. “Yes.” Your voice is small but hopeful. 

You land with Vision somewhere in what you believe to be Belgium. Vision never mentioned anything to you about your pregnancy which you are thankful for. You see Wanda bound out of the small quaint house on the outskirts of the town. You watch as she stops in her tracks a few feet away from you. Your head dropping, not wanting to see her reaction. Scared that she wouldn’t want you around any more. 

“Y/n/n.” Wanda says quietly trying to get you to raise your gaze to hers but you don’t look up. Tears well in your eyes, scared to move, scared to look your best friend in the eye. Hands cup your face gently making you look up into green eyes. A soft smile on her face. “You're pregnant.” It’s not a question but a statement from the woman. You nod your head as she pulls you into her arms hugging you as tightly as she can without hurting you or the baby. 

Just then the flood gates break. A sob leaves you as tears cascade down your cheeks into Wanda’s shirt. You bury your head in her neck. A hand rubbing gently up and down your back as you're held for the first time in months. Your legs give out as you clutch to Wanda for dear life afraid that you're going to wake up and she will be gone. Wanda holds on gently guiding you both to the ground as she lets you cry. Your tears soak her shirt as you sob for what feels like forever. Wanda whispers reassurances in your ear as she just holds you. Her gentle motions on your back, not ceasing. 

Wanda lets you get out your pent up emotions. Sitting with you until your sobs turn into sniffles. “She left me. I never got to tell her.” You whisper, still gripping onto Wanda. “What sweetheart?” She asks, trying to get you to elaborate. “Natasha. I-I haven’t heard from her. She, she left that day to Germany. I tried to tell her. She, she told me that there were more important things than myself.” Wanda’s eyes swirl red with anger. How could Natasha do this to you? All she wants to do is fly off and break Natasha like she broke you. But Wanda comes back to reality when you grip her tighter, scared she will leave you just like Nat did. 

“Please don’t leave me.” If it was even possible Wanda’s heart broke for you more. Like herself you don’t have any family. All of yours were gone long ago, but you had found a family in the Avengers, a wife. But that family is now broken but Wanda is determined to show you that she is still your family. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart. I will always be here for you.” She kisses your head smiling. “And for the baby.” More tears come to your eyes but from happiness. 

“So you and Vision?” You give a watery chuckle. Wanda nudges your shoulder and laughs. “Yeah.” She smiles happily when you pull back to look at her. “So like does he come with a vibrator setting?” You ask half joking half serious. “Oh my god Y/n!” Wanda exclaims, shocked by your bold question. You two laugh as she helps you off the ground leading you into the house. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to mention something to Nat?” Wanda asks you softly, causing you to look up from the book your head is buried in. You let out a sigh as this constant conversation. “If she wanted to know how I was doing she could have called me the same way you did.” You rub your swollen stomach. So close to meeting your precious little one. “Wands I know you are looking out for me and I also know how pissed you are at her. I also know that you partly want to tell her to rub it in her face on how royally she screwed up. She has had almost 9 months to find me. And I know that you said she has mentioned that she has done it for my own safety but at least hearing from her once would have been something. Instead she went no contact. The famous Black Widow knows how to send encrypted messages if she really wanted to.” 

Wanda knows how much you are right and every time she has to touch base with the team she has been distant and cold with Nat. She so badly wants to break her heart the way she has to you. She knows how much you still love Nat and would love to be a family. These times are hard though with everyone on the run so she bites her tongue and nods her head to your words. 

To get your mind off of things you put your book down and swing your feet off the bed. “Hey Wands, it's a nice night, maybe we can all take a walk.” Vision appears in the doorway. “That sounds like a lovely idea Y/n.” You smile at the synthezoid before giving a questioning look to Wanda. “Sure.” She nods her head. “But someone is going to have to help me with my shoes.” You chuckle trying to reach down to your feet which you can’t reach. The other two laugh before all of you put on some clothes and help you with yours. 

Wanda and Vision are holding hands as you walk through the streets of Edinburgh, the quiet street clearing your mind as you three walk peacefully. Vision stops Wanda to talk a bit as you waddle over to a window with a news cast playing. You watch on as a breaking news cast flashes on the screen. As the scene plays out in front of you you gasp. “Wanda.” You call for her. The conversation dies between the two as they come up behind you seeing as the screen plays footage of New York being attacked. You all stand there silently as death and destruction is shown on the screen. Tony Stark missing flashes on the screen and Vision looks to Wanda. 

“I have to go.” Vision says kissing Wanda’s hand that is still laced with his. He starts to walk away dropping her hand, Wanda pleads with him to stay. You start to drown them out as you watch the screen. Terrified that you may see something about Natasha come across it. Screams of pain makes you turn around seeing Vision impaled on a staff. “Vision!” Wanda screams, her hands glowing red ready to fight. 

Someone else blasts Wanda from behind sending her flying into a building across the street. With you close proximity you're thrown back hard. Trying to brace yourself you hear a sickening crack as your wrist impacts with the ground. You scream out in pain. “Y/n!” Vision yells when he hears your cry of pain. You turn on the ground seeing him do the same. The two who attacked turned him over on his back and the thing that stabbed him placed the sharp end of the staff on his head.

Vision’s screams can be heard through the quiet streets. You struggle trying to get yourself up knowing your wrist is broken, cradling it close to your chest. You watch as red balls of energy slam into the two creatures throwing them back. Wanda runs towards Vision using her magic and pulling you safely over to him. Pain is written all over her face as she looks over the both of you. She uses her magic to lift all of you off the ground pulling you closer to her as she tries to fly you all away from the area. You all are almost hit by a beam causing Wanda to have to bring you all down. Wanda lands you both down gently laying you on the ground before turning to catch Vision with her magic. 

“The blade, it stopped me from phasing.” Vision says as you see a bright yellow line in his body and he seems to be glitching. “Is that even possible?” Wanda asks, helping him sit up against the wall. “It’s not supposed to be.” He says, you can tell he is in pain. Your adrenaline is pumping so your wrist is just a dull ache at the moment. Wanda hovers her hand over Vision, her magic flowing and pulling the opening closed slowly but not completely. “I’m beginning to think we should have stayed inside.” You mumble feeling guilty that this could have been avoided if not for you avoiding your feelings about Nat. 

You and Wanda are pushed back by Vision as one of the creatures grabs Vision flying off and fighting against a building. The other comes and attacks you and Wanda. Wanda puts a barrier of magic around you. She starts to fight the female creature as your heart races in your chest. 

You lose sight of the both of them fighting. Wanda’s magic dissipates from around you allowing you to move forward looking for your friends. You can hear it now so clearly in your head like she actually is yelling at you. Natasha’s voice tells you to run and protect yourself, but Wanda is your best friend and she has been there for you. So you push that voice away following the commotion. You run into the train station seeing Vision propped against a railing. Wanda stands red surrounding her hands as the two creatures look ready to fight once again. 

Squealing of wheels from the train moving past has you all looking. A dark figure in the shadows looms behind the moving train. The female creature throws her trident-like spear at the figure when the train passes. The figure catching it perfectly as he walks into the light you see Steve Rogers. You try to get up behind the female creature but she quickly turns wrapping her hand around your throat. 

“Y/n!” Wanda screams. The female creature throws you back and you land on your back crying out in pain. You feel a gush of liquid between your legs after you hit the ground. Wings fly in front of you as Sam Wilson collides with the creature. You let your hand drift down feeling the wetness and bring your fingers back up into view, relieved that it isn’t blood, but your heart drops when you realize what is happening. You gasp in pain from the sharp feeling in your stomach. 

Wanda uses her magic again to pull you towards her and Vision. Wanda pulls you into her lap. That is when you spot her in the distance. The hair color may be different but she is still herself. Natasha fights with Steve against the creatures. You have tears in your eyes as you look up at Wanda. “Wands, I think my water just broke.” You groan in pain again. You can see the panic in her eyes as she looks around the area. It’s not long before the fighting is done and the other three walk over towards you three. 

Natasha stops dead in her tracks when she sees you. Your swollen stomach has her chest rising and falling a bit fast. She thinks maybe it could be someone else's but she knows deep down that the baby is hers. She wants to cry but she turns stone cold hiding her emotions. Hating herself for leaving you, for never reaching out in all this time. You cry out in pain causing her to look back to you. You're curled in on yourself in Wanda’s lap. “It hurts.” You whimper.  Wanda holds you closer to her. “I know sweetheart.” Wanda looks to the other three. “We need to get them out of here.” She can see the two men side eyeing her before Steve speaks up. “Quickly, get them to the Quinjet.” 

Natasha moves to help you but you pull away. “I have her, can you help Vision?” Wanda says flatly, Nat can only nod moving away and helping Vision up. Wanda effortlessly lifts you in her arms and you all make your way to the Quinjet. Your contractions are getting strong and closer together. Natasha can only watch from afar as you whimper in pain. Wanda helps you and Vision sits close holding his side. 

“We need to get her to a hospital.” Wanda says brushing the hair sticking to your forehead out of the way. “We will be at the compound in 30 minutes.” Steve explains. “Steve, I don't know if she can last that long.” She iterates looking back down at your pained face. “It’s the best I can do Wanda.” She sighs gently stroking your cheek. “It’s ok Wands. I’ll be o-” Your cut off by another contraction. All Nat can do is look on with regret. 

Once the quinjet finally lands Wanda lifts you in her arms again and runs into the compound they enter and see Rhodey talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. “We need medical.” Natasha says out, causing Rhodey to turn and for Secretary Ross to start arguing. You can’t concentrate on what they are saying but you know it isn’t great. Rhodey ends the call and signals for medical, who come in with Bruce. 

As they wheel you away the team follows. Before Wanda can head in after you Nat grabs her arm. Wanda whips her head around anger evident on her face. “Please just tell me. Is it mine?” Wanda gives an amused chuckle. “Of course it’s yours.” She pulls her arm from Nat’s grasp and follows you in the room. Nat lets tears slip down her face. She left you alone pregnant with her child. Not once contacting you in the last nine months. She had told herself she was doing it to protect you and to keep you out of this life, but she was wrong and she sees that now. She understands now why Wanda became so cold towards her after a few months. She has to fix this. She has to be able to win you back and to become the family she always wanted and she will do anything to get that back. 

Natasha can hear your cries of pain as you go through labor wishing more than anything she could be there with you but you don’t want her to be. But you chose Wanda and she understands why. She soon hears other cries. The crying of her child as they are born. Tears slip down her cheeks as she hears them. The boys know not to go around her or to talk to her at this moment. She is breaking on the inside and all she has to blame is herself. 

An hour later Wanda walks out and comes over to Nat. Her head is down, not looking at the younger woman waiting for a scolding, but that doesn’t come. “You can go meet your son.” Wanda speaks with no emotion to her voice. Natasha looks up and Wanda can see she has been crying but that doesn’t change how angry Wanda is at her. “I have a son?” Nat whispers. Wanda just nods her head and moves out of the way. 

Natasha slips into the room quietly. Her heart stops seeing you laying in the bed with a blue bundle in your arms and a smile on your face. More tears spill as she quietly makes her way over to you. You don’t look at her until she is standing right next to you. “He’s beautiful.” Nat mumbles trying to stop the sob that so desperately wants to escape. You have a soft look on your face and she can’t read it. “Meet Alexander Pietro Romanoff.” You smile down at your son. Natasha lets the tears freely fall. “Romanoff?” She questions you. “Romanoff.” You repeat looking back up at her with a soft smile. She feels a flicker of hope that she can fix this, that she can have her family.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask her softly and lightly lift him the best you can with your broken wrist. Nat nods and takes him from you holding him in her arms. She has so much love for him already that more tears well in her eyes. You watch her as she holds the baby and cries. 

“I’m sorry.” Nat whispers. “I'm so sorry.” She looks at you with teary eyes. “I know.” Is all you can respond with. She looks back down at the now sleeping boy. Just looking at him and remembering all of his features. She had seen the flicker of green in his eyes, the same as hers. But he looks so much like you. He is just as beautiful as you are. 

Loud beeping makes Nat’s head snap up. Your face is now pale and your eyes are closed. The sheets are staining red between your legs. Doctors rush in as she backs away holding her son close to her chest. He starts to cry with all the noise and commotion. Her heart rate picks up and she starts to panic. The voices of the doctors are muffled to her ears as she feels the blood rushing around. She can only focus on you, your face pale and your body limp in the bed as doctors work around you. They soon wheel you out of the room mentioning something about you hemorrhaging and needing to go to surgery. 

Nat starts sobbing in the empty room. All that is left is herself and her son. She slides down the wall begging to whatever is out there in the universe that you will be ok. That you will come back to her and your son. Promising that she will do better and be better. She will be the wife that she had promised in her vows. She will do anything for you to take her back, just please let you live. She whispers in the emptiness. “Please don’t leave me.”

#new fic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff xreader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #kind of mean natasha #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst

[asbealthgn]

(based on this post. it ended up longer + less lighthearted than i anticipated)

The ding as the microwave timer finishes lines up perfectly with a frantic pounding on the front door, and it makes Steve jump. 

He just got home from the championship game twenty minutes ago. Now he’s heating up a TV dinner because he forgot to eat beforehand. He spends about one and a half seconds dithering over whether he should get the tray out of the microwave before or after answering the door, but the pounding has only gotten louder. So he leaves it where it is.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he mutters as he heads for the front door. “Goddamn.”

When he opens the door he barely even has time to process that it’s Eddie before the other man is tumbling inside, jetting out of sight back towards the kitchen.

“Eds?” Steve calls after him, shutting the door and locking it. “What’s wrong?”

There’s no answer. Back in the kitchen, Steve can’t see Eddie at first. Then he hears the shallow breathing coming from under the table. Steve leans over and sees Eddie curled up there, arms wrapped tight around his knees, eyes wild. 

“Baby, what happened?” Steve asks. He gets on the floor and crawls under the table, pushing a chair out of the way so he can sit next to Eddie. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him in. Eddie’s shaking like crazy and as he leans into Steve, his shallow breaths turn into sobs. 

At a loss for what else he can do, Steve strokes Eddie’s hair, murmuring soothing things in his ear. He doesn’t know what caused this, but he’ll do everything he can to make it better. Eventually, Eddie’s sobbing subsides and his breathing evens out. He’s still shaking, but this is progress.

He lifts his head and looks at Steve. His eyes are puffy and red, cheeks streaked with tears. Steve brushes them away, tucking a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ears. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?” he asks softly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I—” Eddie says, eyes welling up again. “I don’t—” He shakes his head sharply.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Steve says, “You don’t have to.”

Eddie shakes his head again and takes a shuddery breath. “I don’t understand what happened,” he says, voice strained. “It was like—shit from a movie. It shouldn’t be possible.”

Something about that is a cold drop of fear in Steve’s belly. Impossible things that happen in Hawkins are never short of catastrophic.

“What was it?” he asks. 

“She—she started lifting and—and breaking—”

“Who?”

“Chrissy,” Eddie whispers, voice tiny and fragile. 

Steve rubs a hand up and down his arm, trying to transfer comfort through his fingertips. “Cunningham?”

Eddie nods. Steve sort of knew Chrissy when he was still in school, only because she was on the cheer squad so they ran in similar circles. He thought she was sweet, but didn’t really know her that well other than that. He definitely didn’t know that she and Eddie knew each other.

“So—” Steve shifts. “When you say breaking—”

Eddie lets out a distressed sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. “I don’t know how else to explain it,” he croaks, shaking his head. “It was like someone was pulling on her, lifting her up, and—I don’t know how, Steve, because there was nothing touching her but she just lifted off the ground and then—all her bones—”

He cuts off as the tears take over again. Steve holds him tight as he cries, his own dread pooling in his stomach. This definitely sounds like some Upside Down shit. He needs Dustin, or Robin. Someone who can investigate this and figure out what’s happening. But for now, Steve can hold his boyfriend, do what he can to help. 

When Eddie’s breathing starts evening out, he lifts his head off Steve’s shoulder. “The cops—they’re gonna think I did it,” he whispers, “I—I don’t know what to do, I don’t—”

“Eds, breathe,” Steve says, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe here. No one knows we’re together, so they won’t come looking for you here. You can hide out here until we can clear your name.”

“But—how is that even possible?” Eddie asks, eyes wide. “What happened—no one will believe me. I don’t know why the fuck you even believe me.”

Steve nods. “I can’t really explain it, like, literally, I don’t know how to, but this kind of thing has sort of happened before,” he says. He takes Eddie’s hand and squeezes it. “There are people who are smarter than me who can help. I promise.”

Eddie keeps watching him with those big eyes. 

“Do you trust me, Eds?” Steve asks softly. After a moment, Eddie nods. Steve smiles. “Good,” he says. He kisses Eddie’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

After a while, he coaxes Eddie out from under the table and sends him upstairs to change into pajamas. Steve takes Eddie’s keys and goes outside to pull his van into the garage. Dad’s car is currently at the airport, so there’s an empty space. If this is still going on when his parents get home in three weeks then he’ll just have to figure something else out. 

Back inside, he spares another second and a half’s thought to the TV dinner still languishing in the microwave. It’ll have to wait. His boy is more important. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, only slowing when he hits his room so he can ease the door open. Eddie is in bed, curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the wall. Steve changes quickly into pajamas and then gets in bed next to Eddie, pulling him into his arms. 

“You’re safe, Eds,” he murmurs against Eddie’s hair. “I promise.” 

The problem is, he can’t really promise anything. If the Upside Down is open again, Steve can’t guarantee anyone’s safety. He thought it was over, that the gate was closed for good when Joyce blew up the Russian machine. He thought he could keep Eddie away from this dark and twisted world. But if Eddie has to be dragged into it, then Steve will do everything he can to make Eddie feel safe. 

They fall asleep clinging tight to each other, like maybe it’ll stave off the shadows.

“Hey!” 

Steve looks away from the TV at Family Video to see Dustin and Max barging through the door. “Steve,” Dustin says as they approach the counter.

“Did you guys see this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the TV. He’s not sure he can reveal how much he actually knows without revealing how he knows it, but it’s definitely important to get the kids aware that the Upside Down could be involved.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asks, completely ignoring the news broadcast. 

“Someone was murdered,” Steve says. 

Dustin gives him an exasperated look. “How many phones do you have?” he repeats.

The hell is this about? “Uh, two,” Steve says, glancing at Robin. She looks just as lost as he feels. “Why?”

“Technically three if you count Keith’s in the back,” she adds.

Max and Dustin share a significant look. “Yeah, three works,” Max says.

Nodding, Dustin slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it on the counter. Steve frowns. “What are you doing?” he asks just as Dustin shoves the backpack hard, sending it tumbling to the floor inside the counter along with several tapes. “Whoa, what are you—”

“My pile!” Robin shouts as they back away and Dustin launches himself over the counter.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Steve says, throwing his hands up as Dustin’s feet knock over another stack of tapes. “Not my tapes!” Dustin completely ignores him, heading straight for the computer. “Dude! What are you doing, man?”

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin says matter-of-factly, typing away on the keyboard.

“Base of operations?” Robin asks as Max joins them behind the counter, having gone the long way around.

“Stop,” Steve tells Dustin, “Get off of that.”

Dustin doesn’t budge. “No,” he says, “I need it.”

“Need it for what?”

“Looking up Eddie’s friends' phone numbers.”

Steve’s stomach drops. What the hell does he know about Eddie? Why does he need to get in touch with his friends? Shit, Max lives across from Eddie at the trailer park. Maybe she saw something. Maybe they think Eddie’s guilty.

“Seriously, guys,” Robin says, collecting tapes and rearranging them on the counter. “Maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.”

“Alright, look, Robin,” Dustin says, putting up a finger in her direction but not turning around. “I totally empathize but this cannot wait until Monday.”

“What, ‘cause calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin asks. 

“Correct!” Dustin says. 

Shit shit shit. What do they know? Steve needs to get them the hell out of here before they decide to go calling the cops on Eddie.

“Do you want me to strangle them or do you want to do that?” Steve asks Robin, trying to distract himself from his panic.

She grins at him. “We could take turns.”

Dustin turns to Max. “Can you just fill them in while I do this?”

“Fill us in on what?” Robin asks. She and Steve both turn to look at Max, who sighs. 

“We think there might be something going on with the Upside Down,” she says. 

Steve feels Robin’s hand shoot out and lock around his wrist. He glances at her and sees the panic on her face. Weirdly, all he feels is relief. So Max and Dustin’s investigation is about the Upside Down, not about accusing Eddie. That’s definitely positive, all things considered.

Max glances at Dustin and then back at Steve and Robin. “The murder happened right across the street from me,” she says, “The girl that got murdered was Chrissy Cunningham, and I saw her going in with Eddie. Honestly, he might be guilty, but the lights were flickering around when it would have happened. And when he left, he looked terrified.”

Yeah, Steve can vouch for that. Who wouldn’t be?

“So, we’re trying to track down Eddie to find out what really happened,” Max says, gesturing to Dustin. “We need to use your system and your phones to call around and see if anyone’s heard from him.”

Steve swallows. “Uh, that might not be necessary,” he says. 

“I know you have a weird vendetta against him,” Dustin says, not looking away from the computer as he keeps typing, “But it is imperative that we find Eddie immediately.”

“No, I get that,” Steve says, sighing. “I’m saying I know where he is.”

Dustin stops typing and turns around. “What?” he asks, looking dumbfounded. “How?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. No taking it back now, he guesses. “He, uh, came to my house last night,” he says, “That’s where he went after Max saw him leave.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Max asks.

“Sort of,” Steve says, “He was really upset, obviously, so he couldn’t really—”

Dustin waves his hands frantically. “Hold on, wait,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought you and Eddie didn’t even know each other. Now suddenly you’re close enough that he went to your house?”

“Long story?” Steve offers weakly.

Robin nudges him with her elbow and gives him a significant look. “One that I would really like to hear,” she hisses. Okay, so she’s on to him. Maybe that’s not so surprising; they basically share a brain. And he came out to her a few months ago, so the pieces are all there. 

At the very least, the kids accept that Steve and Eddie know each other and abandon their ridiculous scheme to call all of Eddie’s friends. They want to go to Steve’s house right away to talk to Eddie, but Steve refuses to drive them until his and Robin’s shift is over. They threaten to bike there, but Steve eventually manages to convince them that there’s no way in hell Eddie is opening the door for anyone. 

So once their shift wraps up, Steve, Robin, and the kids bundle into the Beemer so he can take them back to his house. He’s apprehensive about this, not sure exactly how Eddie will react. But he knows Dustin well and will probably recognize Robin and Max by sight, so surely he’ll know Steve didn’t bring strangers around. Right?

He parks in the driveway on the off chance that someone drives by at the exact wrong moment and sees Eddie’s car in the garage. Urging the others to be gentle, Steve unlocks the front door. 

“Eddie!” he calls, not wanting to worry him with the sound of the door. “It’s me!”

“Hi!” Eddie’s voice calls from the kitchen, sounding significantly less distressed than he did this morning. “Baby, did you know you left a TV dinner in the microwave?”

He appears in the entryway looking soft and a little rumpled in a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and a green crewneck. His eyes widen in surprise and horror as he sees the others, but their heads have all snapped to look at Steve. Dustin’s eyes in particular are bugging out of his skull.

“Did he just call you baby?”

#everyone take bets on whether they try to play it off or own up to it #never used a TV dinner as a motif before that's a first for me #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet