#to FUCK SHIT FUCK WHAT THE FUCK OH GOD MY APARTMENT IS CONTAMINATED OH FUCK OH GOD NO

[galexystern]

centerfold - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; smut (MDNI), fluff, confessions of love, mutual masturbation, jerking off, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, fingering (f receiving), mutual pining, no use of y/n, no established relationship!

word count; 9.4k

desc; ♪ My blood runs cold My memory has just been sold My angel is the centerfold Angel is the centerfold ♪- 'centerfold' by the j. geils band steve and eddie's mutual high school crush graces the centerfold of an adult magazine. when they learn you're going to be at steve's 5-year hawkins high reunion, they are so there—and maybe they can turn their crush into something more.

a/n; aged up nancy so she's the same year as steve

read on ao3 / masterlist

Steve's buying milk and a pack of cigarettes for Eddie when something draws him to the magazine stand. His eyes rove over it and, checking that he's alone in the store, he quickly picks up an adult issue and flips through it, just letting his gaze skim over the enticing pictures. They're nice, but it's not until he gets to the middle of the publication—where the centerfold unfurls all by itself—that he freezes, staring down at the picture uncomprehendingly.

There you are, splayed out on a sheepskin rug in front of a roaring fire, only covered by a dainty negligee, eye-fucking the camera with a knowing smirk painted on your lips, spread across two pages for the whole nation to see.

Dick already half-hard, he shuts the magazine and throws it onto the counter with his other items, hopefully coming across as nonchalant. Thankfully, the cashier either doesn't notice or care, scanning it without a second look. Steve releases a breath—he didn't know he was so worried about that—and then pays with the spare change from his pocket. He takes his three purchases and books it to his car outside, speeding down the roads until he reaches his building.

He bursts through the door of the apartment he shares with Eddie, shouting the other boy's name repeatedly.

"Fuck, what?" Eddie finally replies, grumpy as he exits his room, where hard rock is blaring loudly. "Where's the fire?"

"Here," Steve says and tosses the magazine and cigarettes to him. He quickly heads into the kitchen to put away the milk and then reappears in the hallway beside Eddie, who has tucked the cigarettes in his pocket and is now looking at the magazine in disgust.

"Uh, thanks, I guess, but I don't need any help getting off." He holds it between two fingers, like it'll contaminate him.

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, look." He grabs the issue back and flips it to the centerfold, rolling open on its own again. He holds it right side up and presents it to Eddie.

"Again, dude, I don't need—" He cuts off when he finally recognizes just who he's looking at: you scantily-clad and inviting every man in the country to look upon you with abandon. He takes it from Steve and holds it close to his face, so he can really make sure. "Is that—"

"Yup." Steve's nodding. "Sure is."

"Holy shit," Eddie breathes.

"You can say that again." Steve sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He moves so he's standing a little behind Eddie and can see the picture again. Fuck, you look even better the second time around. He's having a really hard time not palming his crotch.

Eddie's not, because he's already doing it. "What the fuck," he groans, digging the heel of his hand against his cock, steadily growing harder as he keeps ogling you.

Seeing that Eddie isn't holding back, Steve's resolve snaps and he grips his length through his jeans. "Oh my god," he whines lowly. "She looks so fucking good."

"I always knew she'd be fucking gorgeous," Eddie mutters.

He wanders over to the living room with the magazine, and Steve follows so he can keep studying you. They both collapse onto the couch gracelessly, glancing at each other briefly before undoing their jeans and pulling out their cocks, starting to jerk them hard and fast. The magazine rests on the cushion between them, centerfold spread out, each man convinced your eyes are following them as they get themselves off to the fantasy of you.

"I used to have a crush on her," Steve moans, thinking of you as a cheerleader back in high school, doing dances on the sidelines of the football and basketball games. You were the only one who actually seemed interested in the games, and he could always pick out your screaming voice whenever he'd make a basket. There were a couple of times he'd been so distracted by your beautiful body on the court that the ball had been stolen right out from under him, but he never regretted watching you. And now here you are, on display again. He grunts as he twists his hand in just the way he likes, unable to choose just one part of your photo to focus on, the whole thing captivating him. "Always knew she was outta my league though."

Eddie lets out a strangled laugh. "Out of King Steve's league? If you'd told me that a week ago, I wouldn't have believed it, but looking at this divine creature from heaven, now I'd say your instincts were right."

Steve snorts unexpectedly, but it turns into a moan as he thumbs the head of his dick to smear the pre-cum on his next pass back down.

"I had a crush on her too," Eddie continues, remembering you sitting in front of him in homeroom, wearing soft pink sweaters and sweet little dresses that always made him want to take a peek underneath. You'd occasionally pass notes under the desk to him, asking him about the homework for Mrs. O'Donnell's class or complimenting Corroded Coffin's last performance at the Hideout. He'd always been so disappointed when he couldn't find you after finishing a set, knowing innately you'd already left, but those little messages always made his day, putting a smile on his face that he couldn't explain for the next, oh, week or so. His hand is moving like a flash, clenching at just the right places to propel him towards climax, wanting the photo of you to come alive and help him out in reality. "It was obvious she'd always be out of my league."

"Goddamn, whoever discovered her and made her a model knew what they were doing. She's fucking incredible." Steve's panting as his orgasm nears. "Wonder what her pussy looks like."

"I bet it feels fantastic." Eddie can feel the edge close in on him. "So fucking tight, so warm, so perfect. Fuck, I wanna put my cock inside her."

"I wanna feel that beautiful mouth around mine."

"And her stunning tits, oh my god."

"Wish she was laying on her stomach so we could see that amazing ass as well."

"Oh man, her ass looked so good in those little cheerleading skirts. Remember how they wore the uniforms on game days?"

"Fuck, those were my favorite days. Once or twice she'd forget her uniform underwear and you could get a glimpse of her lacy panties if you were lucky."

"Such a fucking tease. God, I wanna ruin her."

"Me too."

A few more thrusts into tight fists and then both boys are cumming hard, spend splattering across their hands and fists and you. They pant, coming down from their highs, closing their eyes at the dream of fucking you for real. When they've caught their breaths, they look down at the centerfold.

Steve snorts. "Shit," Eddie swears as he wipes a splash of cum off your face, grabbing a tissue from the box Steve always makes sure is on the coffee table. Steve follows suit and they both clean themselves off to the best of their ability with such an inadequate material. Even after, Eddie looks at himself in disgust. "I'm gonna shower."

"Same," Steve sighs, closing the magazine and hiding you away so he doesn't get hard again.

;

Later, the now-clean boys sit on the couch again, watching a movie. They're really not paying attention, too distracted by the thought of you and that centerfold, the magazine tempting them from the coffee table. Despite having mind-blowing orgasms not that long ago, both can feel how easy it would be to get off again, just from one more glance at your perfect figure.

The phone rings.

Steve sighs and stands, walking over and answering it. "Hello?"

"Steve, it's Nancy."

"Hey, what's up?"

"I'm just calling to see if you're coming to the reunion this weekend." Nancy had somehow been roped into being on the alumni committee and volunteered to help handle their upcoming 5-year reunion. She swears it makes her want to shoot herself in the head.

Steve makes a face. "Probably not."

"Oh, come on," she pleads. "I can't do this alone."

"You have Jonathan and Robin," he points out, laughing a little at her misery with something so normal. They'd fought monsters while high school students.

"Robin wasn't in our class."

"Yeah, but she'll be there, right? You have that power."

"Doesn't matter. Why won't you come?"

Steve smirks at her whiny tone. "It sounds miserable, Nancy. You know how high school went."

"You were the King!"

"And it was lonely at the top." Steve hears Eddie snicker behind him, and shoots him a grin.

"What can I do to convince you to come?"

"Noth—" His eyes pass over the magazine and he has a brilliant idea. "Actually, can you tell me if somebody else will be going?"

"I guess so, if that'll help." He gives your name and waits for Nancy to check her list. "Yes, looks like she's RSVP'd as coming."

Steve's heart jumps. "Then I'll be there. So will Eddie."

"Really?" Nancy's so relieved she doesn't even ask why Steve would be asking about you.

"Yeah, we'll see you then."

"Great! See you Saturday!"

When Steve hangs up the phone, Eddie groans, "What have you got me into?"

"My high school reunion," Steve answers and Eddie gives him a look.

"I don't wanna go to that!"

"You will when you hear who else is coming." Eddie watches him curiously, and definitely catches the meaningful glance Steve performs towards the magazine.

"No shit, really?"

Steve nods. "RSVP'd yes."

"Then we're absolutely going."

Steve smirks. "That's what I thought."

;

That Saturday night, Steve and Eddie stroll through the doors of Hawkins High, dressed in their best—or at least their best on such short notice and without looking like they're trying too hard. Nancy, who's manning the welcome table, lights up and stands to hug them both. Eddie's a little surprised by the gesture, but returns it all the same.

"I'm so glad you guys are here," she says, actually sounding like it. She hands them name tags and a couple of Sharpies; they both write their first names down and paste them onto their shirts. "You can head in. Robin and Jonathan are in there too."

Steve nods. "We'll find them. Good to see you, Nance."

She beams. "You too. I'll see you later."

The boys walk into the gym, where there has been attempt to mask the sweat and body odor smell and depressing, prison-like atmosphere, with streamers, balloons, a DJ, colored lights, and cheesy decorations. Eddie has to hold back a laugh at the earnestness of it.

"Dingus!" Someone shouts and Steve turns to see Robin come flying towards him. He catches her in a hug with ease and squeezes her tight.

"Robs, you're a sight for sore eyes." When they lean back from each other, Robin's eyes are sparkling and there's a huge grin on her face.

"I didn't believe it when Nancy said you were coming."

Steve lets his jaw drop in fake-outrage. "I wouldn't lie about that."

Robin snorts. "Sure. Munson, looking good."

He flashes her a cheeky smile. "As do you, Buckley."

"Stop it, you're making me blush," she replies without a trace of red in her cheeks, making Steve and Eddie both chuckle. "Come on, we're over here." She starts walking and the boys have to move quickly to catch up with her long strides. She leads them to a table half-filled: Jonathan, who stands to give them both a handshake; Vickie, who pulls Steve into a hug as well; and Maggie, one of Robin's friends all throughout school, despite being a year older, and who gives them both a polite nod. They nod back.

"How are you two doing?" Jonathan asks. "How's Chicago?"

"Good," Eddie replies and Steve nods in agreement. "Chicago is cold as ever." The table laughs.

"How are you and Nancy?" Steve asks.

Jonathan, of all things, blushes. Steve and Eddie both raise their eyebrows in intrigue. Jonathan checks the area and then says, quietly, "Can you keep a secret?"

Everyone nods excitedly.

"Okay," he says with a deep breath. He pulls something out from his pocket and holds it up: it's a ring box. He pops it open to show off a dazzling diamond ring. Robin gasps loudly while Maggie and Vickie take a closer look. Steve looks at Jonathan, impressed. Eddie even whistles lowly.

"Damn," he says, "that's a nice rock."

"Thanks." Jonathan smiles and then puts the box away.

"Wait, you're not proposing here, right?" Steve asks.

"God, no. I've just been carrying it around since I bought it. Trying to find the right moment."

"Well, it's definitely not here," Eddie replies, to which Jonathan nods.

"Congrats, man," Steve adds, giving Jonathan another handshake.

"Do you need help?" Robin jumps in. "With proposing? 'Cause I can help!"

"Uh..." Jonathan looks a little panicked. Eddie knocks Steve's shoulders and points towards the refreshment table. Steve nods and they turn and walk away, laughing when they hear Robin continuing with her ideas of how Jonathan should propose to Nancy.

"Hope he's having fun with that one," Eddie says with a smirk.

"He deserves it," Steve replies snarkily, making the other boy snicker.

They reach their destination and procure drinks from the punch bowl. They're both in the process of taking the first sip when someone behind them says, in an angelic voice, "Please tell me there's alcohol in there."

Steve and Eddie turn and come face-to-face with you, their high school crush and current wet dream. You look just as good as you do in the centerfold, little black dress outlining your delicious curves and strappy heels accentuating your long legs. Your hair is blown-out and wavy, looking soft to the touch and curling over your shoulder. You're all dolled up, with a smoky eye, red lips, and pink blush cheeks. There's an amused look on your face, watching the two boys take you in.

"Uh," Eddie clears his throat, "would you like there to be?"

You give him an intrigued expression and he pulls his handy flask from an inside pocket of his jacket. Your eyes light up at the reveal and a smile spreads across your delectable lips. "Yes, please."

Both boys try not to pop a boner at your politeness as you fill a cup with punch, holding it out to Eddie eagerly. He unscrews the flask and pours a healthy helping of whiskey into your glass. You take a taste and make a tiny disgruntled face. It's adorable.

"Too much?" Steve asks, lightly teasing.

You shrug. "I'll manage." You size them up. They also look great, from their tight suits to their styled hair to their awed expressions. "So. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. As I live and breathe."

Steve says your full name in the same tone, making you smile wide.

"I don't think I knew you two knew each other," you continue, taking another sip of the spiked punch.

Steve and Eddie glance at each other before looking back at you. "We...became acquainted his senior year," Steve explains. "Or rather, his last senior year." Eddie shoots him an annoyed glare that makes you giggle.

"Is that so? Well, score for high school me."

That catches both their attention. "What do you mean by that, princess?" Eddie asks sweetly.

You smirk. "Maybe I'll tell you later. After I've had more of this." You hold up the glass and then take a long drink. The boys' gazes are magnetized to your throat as you swallow.

"We're gonna hold you to that, honey," Steve replies with a wink.

"Hopefully that's not everything you'll hold me to." You give him your own wink, which seems to throw him for a loop. You revel in your ability to disarm them so easily. "Where have you guys been since high school? Being rich and famous?"

"Hardly," Eddie snorts, making you laugh unexpectedly. He seems delighted by it.

"We're in Chicago," Steve answers. "Definitely not rich but Eddie is semi-famous."

His cheeks go pink as you look at him in interest. "Semi-famous in the sense that my band is known around the dive bars of the city."

"Corroded Coffin is still together and performing?" You're almost transported back to high school, when you used to sneak into the Hideout to watch them play and then escape as their set finished, exhilarated by the forbidden nature of it. The bar had been pretty skeevy and an unpopular hangout for Hawkins High students, so you'd always gone alone and never told anyone about your adventures. You'd loved watching Eddie play guitar, sure he's never hotter than when onstage.

"Um, yeah.” Eddie’s surprised. "You remember my band?"

"Of course, you guys were so good. Sounds like you still are."

"We have gotten better with age." Eddie's cheeky smile makes you twist your mouth to hold back a giggle. "And Steve here is in law school."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Law school? That's amazing!"

"Oh," Steve says, both embarrassed and proud, "not really. I had the money, so why not?"

"I know that's not why you went." Your gaze pierces into his, seemingly able to read his mind.

"Uh, no, you're right about that." Steve scratches the back of his head self-consciously. "I do wanna help people. Maybe something rights-based. I don't really know yet."

"That's very noble, Steve. You should be proud of it." Steve blushes a little, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

"But what are you doing, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, like he knows.

He should know. You want him to know, both him and Steve. "Oh, you know." You wave a hand in nonchalance. "Random things. But lately I've really been into photography."

Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent all his blood from flowing down to his half-hard cock. Eddie uses the hand in his pocket to secretly adjust his crotch as his boner grows. You may not be able to see those motions, but you can see how their pupils dilate, and hold back a smirk.

"Anything we might've seen?" Steve asks innocently.

"Possibly," you purr back. "If you've looked in the right places." You watch him swallow and feel triumphant.

"Hey, you guys wanna go exploring?" Eddie asks, startling you out of your dirty headspace. But he has a sinful look in his eyes that tells you you won't be away from it for long. You look back at Steve, who raises his eyebrows in enticing invitation.

"Let's do it," you agree, eyes glinting. You spin on your heels and stride away, leaving the boys to follow like puppies. The power goes to your head a little bit, and you have to focus on your steps so you don't trip in your heels. You push out of the gym and into a deserted hallway, looking over your shoulder at Steve and Eddie, who are walking with purpose behind you. Giving them a wicked smirk, you speed up and then dart into a specific, empty classroom.

When the boys enter, you're sitting on the teacher's desk. Eddie looks around while Steve presumptuously closes the door. You give him a look, but he just smiles angelically.

"You recognize this place?" You ask. You don't expect Steve to know, but Eddie responds as you'd wished.

"Oh man, this was our homeroom senior year. Your senior year, at least."

You hum. "That's right. Where did you sit again?"

Eddie walks over to the third column, fourth seat back, and sinks into it. He props his feet up on the desk in front of him and leans back, looking at you with a grin. "And you, angel, sat right here." He taps his heel on your old desk forcefully.

"Correct, Mr. Munson. A+ for you," you tease, and his eyes narrow playfully. "Now you, Mr. Harrington." Steve looks up from where he's leaning against the wall. "What do you see out that window?" You point.

He doesn't even glance out, making your thighs clench together. "That would be the football field, honey."

"Right you are. And where was I on the field usually?"

"On the sidelines. In that tiny little cheerleading uniform." His eyes are half-lidded now, matching Eddie's, which you see when you catch a glimpse of the other boy.

"Correct again. You two are my best students yet."

Eddie slides out from the desk like liquid sex. "Do you know what today is, Miss?"

You shake your head, caught speechless as both he and Steve stalk towards you like they're predators and you're their prey.

Steve bares his teeth in a sultry smile. "Why, it's teacher appreciation day, Miss. And I think you need some appreciating, doesn't she, Eddie?"

"Absolutely she does," his friend replies, licking his lips tauntingly, adding another layer of slick to your already wet underwear. "And I think we know just how to appreciate her."

"Do tell," you manage to say, making them draw close to you, their body heat descending upon you like a humid summer day. "Maybe Miss will let you if it's what she needs."

"I think," Steve starts, brushing the hair on your shoulder away to expose your hot skin, "you need some of this." He leans down and places his lips on your neck, pressing sweet kisses across the space he can reach, increasing his pressure when it's clear you're not going to push him away. You whimper when his teeth come out to play, nipping just under your jaw and soothing with his tongue.

"You also need some of this." Eddie cups your cheek gently and turns your face towards him, propelling himself forward to lock your lips together. You moan quietly into his mouth when his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, granting him access to dive in and explore. Your tongues tangle together, the feeling intensely pleasurable.

Steve and Eddie each slide a hand down one of your thighs, spreading your legs and inching them towards your center. When they get under your dress's hem and finally touch your panties, they both separate from you, inhaling deeply, pupils blown out with lust as you whine at the loss of their lips.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, tone laced with evil glee, "you're positively soaked."

"This all for us, baby?" Steve asks, and you nod your head pathetically. "Oh, pretty girl too cock-drunk already?" He pouts.

Fire licks through your veins at his condescending question. "Not even close. You two gonna finish appreciating me or what?"

"Oh, there's a lot of appreciation we'd like to do to you, angel." Eddie grips your jaw and makes you look at him again. "Can we take these off?" He snaps the waistband of your underwear. You nod and they both slide them down your legs. The garment disappears into Steve's pocket; he gives you a wink and a smirk when you eye him for it. Steve lifts the end of your dress until it's bunched at your hips, and Eddie spreads your legs until you're really on display for them. They both groan at the sight.

"Knew your pussy would be so fucking pretty, baby," Eddie murmurs, eyes glued to your glistening folds.

"Can't wait to feel it," Steve adds, and kisses you. You reciprocate happily—both of them are amazing kissers, like you'd always imagined they would be—but gasp when two sets of fingers explore your pussy further: One searches out your clit, finding it quickly and rubbing it in slow, torturous circles, while the other locates your entrance and slowly slides in a digit. Steve takes the opportunity and pries your mouth open further so his tongue can enter and take control. You let him.

Eddie groans. "She's just sucking me in, babygirl."

When you lean back from Steve to get air, you pant out, "More." The word turns into a keen as Eddie listens and adds another finger, and Steve trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck and collarbone while speeding up his fingers. He sucks the skin harshly, wanting to leave marks so everyone knows he's been there.

You grab on to both boys' arms, digging your nails in and making them harder in their pants. Eddie's fingers go deep and curl up, hitting that spongey spot that always makes you see stars. Knowing he's hit the jackpot, he moves faster and harder, and you let out little noises whenever he presses to that spot, losing your mind at the sensation.

"You close, honey?" Steve whispers in your ear. You nod wordlessly. "What do you say, Miss?"

When you just moan in response, Eddie says, "Mm-mm, sweetheart. What's the magic word?"

Your orgasm right in front of you, you wail the word they're looking for: "Please!" Satisfied, both boys increase their movements, and the coil inside you finally snaps and you sail over the edge. They hold you up as you jerk in their arms, slowing their fingers to extend your high, eventually stopping. Eddie gently pulls out, and you watch with bedroom eyes as he puts one in his mouth and moans at the taste of you.

"Stevie, you gotta taste this." He holds out the other finger to Steve, who leans forwards and sucks it into his mouth, cleaning you off.

"Shit, taste so good, princess," he groans, looking down at you with adoring eyes. "You okay, baby?"

You breathe deeply, trying to get your bearings back, and nod.

"Did so well for us, angel," Eddie says, just as loving. "You need anything?"

"Um, maybe something to clean me?" You offer tentatively. The boys move immediately. Steve shakes off his coat and gently wipes up your mess. "Not your jacket!"

"It's fine, honey." Steve grins. "I'll get it dry cleaned."

"He can afford it," Eddie reassures, and you laugh a little.

"I thought you were poor?" You tease.

Steve chuckles. "I said we weren't rich, I didn't say we didn't have any money at all."

"Good," you reply, breathless and giggling.

"You feel okay to stand, baby?" Eddie asks. "Need any help?"

You slide off the desk and stand on shaky legs. You're a little unstable, but you can keep yourself upright. You straighten up, back at the boys' height. They smile at you and you smile back.

"You wanna get outta here?" Steve holds out his elbow and you take it. Eddie follows suit and you grab his proffered arm as well, now in the middle of them and being led out of the classroom. You look at Steve, who asked the question. "We can go grab food or something."

"Food is nice, but I think I'm hungry for something else." You glance down their bodies in an obvious way, and you can hear both boys suck in at the realization. You smirk.

"We can definitely help with that," Eddie says. He steers you three to a door that leads outside and holds it open for you. They both walk you to Steve's car, who gives you a kiss on the temple before unhooking your arm and going over to the driver's side. Eddie opens the passenger side door and motions for you to sit. "Your chariot awaits, Miss."

You giggle and slide in with his help. He shuts the door once you're fully inside and hops into the back, as Steve starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. "Hope Nancy doesn't hold this against us," he jokes.

You cock your head. "Why?"

Eddie leans his head over the seats, propping it on his arms resting on the center console. "She practically begged us to come. This is her idea of hell, I think."

"Then why'd she volunteer?" You giggle.

"I believe she was volunteered," Steve clarifies and you nod in understanding.

"You two weren't gonna come? I assume that's why she had to beg."

"We weren't. A+ for Miss." Eddie smiles cheekily when you look at him. "At least, not until we heard you were coming."

Flattered, you raise a hand to your chest. "You came for me?"

Steve's blushing a little, but replies, "We had to, after we saw that centerfold."

You laugh at that. "I knew you saw it."

"I think everyone saw it, angel." Eddie says it like it's a good thing, which makes you feel good.

"And I think every man got off to it, just like us," Steve adds.

You squirm in your seat, fresh arousal dripping from your cunt to your dress, underwear still in Steve's pocket. Eddie looks at you like he can tell, cocky smirk plastered on his face. Unfortunately, it just makes him look hotter somehow. "Good," you reply with fresh confidence, to meet that cockiness.

There's a comfortable silence. Steve lays one hand on your thigh lightly, caressing his thumb across your skin. Eddie has his head resting on the side of your seat, and you can feel his hair on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart?" Eddie breaks the lull and you hum. "What'd you mean when you said 'score one for high school you'?"

You laugh a little. "Well, you know when people talk about dream threesomes?" Both boys nod, and then they comprehend.

"Jesus Christ," Steve breathes.

"We didn't even know each other in high school," Eddie points out.

"I know." You giggle. "So you can imagine how elated I am by this chain of events."

They want to ask you more about that revelation, but then Steve is turning into the motel lot and parking just outside their room. Both boys pop out, and Eddie opens your door before you can, holding out a hand and helping you step into the warm air. You thank him, to which he bows dramatically, making you smile goofily. He notices and grins back, delighted.

"Shall we?" Steve calls and you quickly catch up to him as he walks to the door and unlocks it. He swings it open and motions for you to go first, and you step inside as he flicks on the light. It's fairly nice for a motel, clean and full of their stuff so it already smells like them. The door closes behind you, and you turn to find the boys gazing at you.

Eddie scratches his head, looking awkward. "Sorry. This is the best we could do on short notice."

"It's fine." You shrug. "I don't mind."

"You deserve better," Steve says, making you blush a little.

"Mm, that's true," you muse, and the boys grin. "But I'm not expecting to pay much attention to the aesthetic." Your eyebrows raise in invitation.

"Is that so, princess?" Eddie teases with a smirk. "Where do you think your attention will be?"

Instead of answering, you slip off your heels and slowly slide to your knees, looking up at them with an innocent expression and parted lips. Both sets of eyes on you darken as you take up position. "I think I'll be much more focused on two things at my current eye level. If that works for you?"

They spring into action, unbuttoning and pulling down their pants and toeing off their shoes to reveal bulges straining at their boxers. You hold out a hand and crook a finger at them, and they walk towards you as if being reeled in by the power of your stare alone. You reach up and caress both of their dicks, hard and leaking in their confinements, making them hiss and sigh at the touch. You look up and feel slick slide down your thigh at their half-lidded gazes.

You grip the boxers' waistbands and tug a couple times, pairing it with a jutted-out lip and wide eyes. The move works as intended and the boys move immediately, revealing nicely-sized cocks that slap against their abdomens temptingly. You admire them for a minute—they're both large, roughly the same size, but Eddie trumps Steve in length while Steve wins for girth.

Then you wrap a hand around each of them and squeeze as you jerk them once, torturously slow. They groan, Steve's head going back while Eddie's eyes shut tightly. You smirk and continue to work their lengths with your hands, leaning in and licking the tip of one and then the other.

"Fuck," Eddie draws out, trying to keep his eyes open so he can watch you.

Since he spoke first, you reward him by placing your mouth around him, bobbing your head to take more of him each time. He's panting, unable to believe this is happening, working very hard not to cum down your throat already. Though part of him knows you'd swallow every drop without trouble.

Steve whines, and you look over at him to see him staring at Eddie's cock in your mouth. You pull off and take Steve as far as you can, feeling him stretch your lips so wide your cunt spasms at the thought of him stretching it later. His whine turns into a full moan when he hits the back of your throat and you swallow around him.

"God, you look so hot, baby," Eddie murmurs, focus glued to how Steve's dick is visible against your neck. "Knew you'd love a couple of cocks in your mouth."

You hum around Steve's cock, making him unintentionally thrust forward. You pull off, sputtering a little, and he looks down.

"Sorry, angel," he says quietly, genuine. You blink back a few tears and then smile up at him, reassuring that no harm was done. You switch back to Eddie, challenging yourself to do the same thing to him. It's more difficult, he is longer after all, but you manage to fit the whole thing in your mouth, and glance up at him when his pubic hair brushes your nose.

"Fuck me." Eddie's eyes are blown out with lust.

"You're a wonder, baby," Steve agrees, staring unblinkingly at your accomplishment. You slowly pull back and grin at them, drool beading down your chin, jerking them again, hard and fast. Both boys groan.

You get back to work and bob your head over them again, switching between their cocks every minute or so. Beautiful noises fall from their lips like manna from heaven, and you squirm to get some sort of friction for your aching cunt.

"Shit, angel," Eddie says breathlessly, and one of his hands goes to your hair and pulls you off his dick. You whine at the loss and he tilts your head so you're looking back up at him. "Keep doing that and I'll lose it real quick." You smile beatifically and Eddie shakes his head.

"I see you fidgeting down there." Steve gets your attention and you flick your eyes towards him. He cups your jaw and rubs a thumb across your cheek. "Need some attention too, sweetheart?"

You pout and nod pitifully. Both boys' faces turn sympathetic.

"Up you get then, baby," Eddie orders, and he and Steve help you to your feet, on which you stand shakily.

Steve grips your waist and pushes you backwards gently. You follow his motions until he stops you, the backs of your knees hitting the bed. "Let's get this off you," he adds, pinching your dress.

You raise your arms, and he and Eddie grab the hem and pull it up and off. You're left completely nude, not having needed a bra with the tight garment. When the boys notice, they both groan, and you smirk a little. Like they can't help it, each grab at now-freed breast, squeezing and pinching and groping. You let your head drop back, enjoying the ministrations they're rewarding you with.

Then you gasp and look down: Steve has leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it adoringly. You whimper at the sight, stuck on it until Eddie grips your chin and pulls your attention to him. He leans down and catches your lips with his. You immediately open for him, and his tongue dives in to take what's his, what's always been his and Steve's.

Someone gently pushes and you sit on the bed, gazing up at the boys. You notice their shirts are still on, so you tug at the material lazily and they get the hint. Steve undoes all his buttons carefully and quickly, while Eddie just pulls it over his head and throws it away. You giggle as you watch Steve half-fold his before tossing it down.

They both look so good, Steve with his dark, coarse chest hair you can't wait to run a hand through, and Eddie with tattoos covering his chest and arms you want to examine. They may not be ripped, but they've kept in shape, and there's nothing to laugh at. Very much not so, as you eye the happy trails leading to their still-leaking cocks and all the way down their muscled and toned legs. When you run your eyes back up their bodies and land on their faces, you can see they're checking you out in the same way. They must see something they like, because their expressions are awed and excited.

"So, boys," their attention snaps back to your face, "who wants to appreciate me first?"

They glance at each other and then back at you. "Me," Eddie says first and Steve nods at the request. You nod as well, and slowly slip back on the bed as they both crawl towards you. You lean back so your head is on the pillows, Steve settling on his side next to you as Eddie kneels between your thighs. He grips your legs and spreads them, coming close and running his cock through your wet folds, both of you moaning at the feeling.

"Ready, baby?" Eddie asks sweetly and you nod. He lines up and starts pushing in, and you bite your lip as you watch him.

Steve runs a hand across your stomach and then up to your tits, pinching a nipple gently and making you whine. The whine turns into a groan that Eddie joins as he bottoms out. He sits for a few seconds to let you adjust. "Feel good, honey?" Steve asks, and you look over at him with hazy vision. He chuckles at it, continuing to squeeze your nipple.

"Move, Eds," you plead. He listens and pulls out and then slams back in, making your jaw drop as you feel him immediately hit that sweet spot inside you that you can never reach alone. He starts a hard and fast rhythm, and you make little noises whenever he hits the spot, feeling that familiar coil tighten within you again.

Eddie squeezes your thighs in his grip, pushing them further up so he can thrust even deeper. "Holy shit, baby. Fucking amazing pussy, oh my god."

You keen at his dirty talk. "Feels so good, Eds. Please, please, please."

"Please what, baby?" Steve teases.

"Please," a particularly hard thrust makes you wail before finishing your plea, "make me cum. I wanna cum again."

"Oh god yes," Eddie moans, moving faster and hitting harder. Another minute of letting the wave build and then it breaks, crashing over you and making you jerk in Eddie's grasp. He hisses at the feeling of you clenching around his cock. "I'm so close. Where should I cum, angel?"

"In—inside," you pant, vision bleary from the powerful climax, "on—on the pill."

He grunts in acknowledgement and another few thrusts and he's cumming too, spilling into you hotly, his pulsing length making you twitch. He collapses forward, burying his face in your neck and giving you sloppy kisses there, making you giggle. He groans as he lifts himself and pulls out; you whine at the loss of feeling full.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve says a tad condescendingly. As soon as Eddie's resting on the bed on your other side, Steve's turning you to face him. He lifts your leg and slides his red and leaking cock through your pussy lips, making you gasp. "We're not done yet."

Then he's pushing inside and your eyes are rolling back at the feeling of being split open, as if torn in two. He moans and rests his forehead against yours when he bottoms out, breathing heavily.

"Fuck," he keens, after he pulls out and thrusts back in, slow and hard, you feeling like you're being cleaved all over again. "Your cunt, baby. It's perfect."

"Yes, yes, Stevie," you pant with each pump of his hips. "Love your cock." Impossibly, you can feel another orgasm headed your way.

Behind you, Eddie comes in close and starts kissing and sucking on the skin of your neck and shoulders. When his teeth dig in lightly, your breath hitches, and you can feel his smirk against you. His hand slides between you and Steve, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in tiny, fast circles. Steve grunts when you squeeze around him due to the added stimulation.

"You gonna cum again, princess?" Eddie taunts in your ear. You nod frantically. "Look at Stevie for me, baby."

You work to lift your head and train your gaze on Steve, who's staring back at you with half-closed eyes and a blissed-out expression. You whine when his hand grips your hip harder, sure to leave a bruise later and making your cunt flutter around him at the thought.

Eddie continues, "Ask him. Ask him for it."

"Stevie," you keen, eyes shutting briefly as he speeds up at your voice. "Please, please, wanna cum. Make me cum, please?"

"I've got you, baby," he pants, increasing his tempo even more. That, along with Eddie's persistent fingers on your clit, pushes you off the edge for the third time, coil snapping inside and making your mouth drop open. "Fuck, squeezing me so hard, angel."

He thrusts a few more times and then he's cumming too, pulsing within you, making you moan at the knowledge that both his and Eddie's cum are inside you now. He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls out, making you scrunch up your face at the icky feeling. Almost immediately, there's a warm wetness between your legs, and you look down to find Eddie cleaning you with a washcloth gently. You smile at him when he glances up, and he smiles back as he hands the rag to Steve, who wipes himself off quickly.

You roll to your back. "Oh my god," you breathe, stunned and happy.

"Tell me about it," Eddie jokes, as he slides under the covers and pulls them over you and Steve. You face him and giggle tiredly when Steve presses his chest against your back and places quick kisses to your neck. Eddie tucks your hair behind your hair, and you gaze at him with soft eyes. He lays back and you rest your head on his chest, hand coming up to grab his resting on his abs. You all sigh happily.

"Sweet dreams, honey," Steve whispers, making you curl against him closer.

"See you in the morning, princess," Eddie adds, half-asleep.

You yawn. "G'night, my loves."

You fall asleep all tangled together.

;

In the morning, Steve wakes up slowly, memories of last night coming in and making him smile. He'd turned onto his back during the night, and he turns over to grab ahold of you again, but the space between him and Eddie is empty. He blinks.

"Eds," he mumbles. The other boy groans; he always hated waking up. "Eddie."

"What?" He finally says, turning his head. It takes a second, but he registers your absence. "Where'd she go?"

Steve shrugs nervously. "I don't know," he answers honestly.

Eddie sighs and flops back on his pillow. "Knew we should've talked last night," he mutters.

"Yeah," Steve agrees miserably.

They're both mourning what could've been when the door opens and you step in, holding a couple of McDonald's bags and three coffees. They look up at you in surprise and you smile brightly. "Good morning, boys." You slip off your shoes and climb onto the bed awkwardly. Steve and Eddie sit up and take the items from you, and you give them a grateful look. "I hope you don't mind, but I took your car. Woke up starving, thought I'd get us some breakfast. Wasn't sure what you'd like so I just bought one of everything."

You take a bag from Eddie and pour it on the bed; it is indeed filled with half of the McDonald's breakfast menu. "That one has pancakes and stuff," you add, pointing to the other bag. "And coffee, obviously," pointing to Steve's carrier. "Cream and sugar are around here if you want it."

Both boys gaze at you in awe. "You're an angel from heaven," Eddie says reverently, and Steve nods. You laugh.

"Well," you reply, "dig in."

The boys take your order and run with it, searching through the packages to find something they want. Eddie goes for the unopened bag and opens the pancakes, pouring all three syrups on them before shoveling a few bites into his mouth, moaning at the delicious taste.

You giggle. "Knew you'd be a cinnamon roll on the inside," you tease him. He glares at you playfully. Steve's eating some version of a sandwich and you look at him. "Can I have a coffee, baby?"

His eyes open wide and then he's nodding, leaning to his bedside table and handing you a cup. He gives the other to Eddie and throws the creams and sugar packets into the middle of the bed, keeping two creams and a sugar for himself. You sip yours as you watch him pour in the sweeteners. He notices you staring.

"Black, angel? Bit bitter for someone so sweet." You shoot him a look and he grins cheekily.

With both boys eating, you search the remains for something to eat, settling on a sandwich and hash brown. You all sit and eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, satisfying your hunger.

"So where you headed after this, sweetheart?" Eddie asks between bites.

You shrug. "Not sure."

Steve swallows. "No more shoots lined up?"

"No, I think once is enough for that."

"I dunno, I think we'd love to see you in another magazine." You smirk at Eddie's light tease.

"Look damn good for plenty more," Steve agrees.

"It was fun, and I liked it. Made me feel real good about myself, that's for sure. But it's not like I have a dream to be a Playboy bunny or something." The boys chuckle. "I don't even wanna be an actress or model, so I don't need that kind of help."

"What do you wanna do?" Eddie asks curiously.

You twist your mouth anxiously. "I don't really know. Someone discovered me pretty soon after I graduated and moved to L.A., and it took a while to get to a centerfold. I haven't thought about it much."

"I seem to remember you enjoying yourself during halftime dances at basketball games," Steve says. "A lot. Didn't you also choreograph them too, your senior year?"

You blush. "Yeah, that was fun. I don't know if I'm that good though."

"I don't know." Steve shrugs. "Caught my attention, for sure. Even got in trouble for it a couple times when I played."

"You were watching me while playing?" You ask, a little surprised.

He nods. "You were really good."

Eddie jumps in. "I also remember seeing you dancing during Corroded Coffin's sets at the Hideout a couple times. Looked like you were having a great time."

Your cheeks grow redder. "That was just for fun, not serious."

"And yet, you were the best dancer on the floor." Eddie smiles encouragingly.

"Is dance something you'd wanna pursue?" Steve asks.

"Maybe," you muse. "I did enjoy making routines for the cheerleaders. I even did some dance choreography for the musicals." You think they might make fun of you for that, but they just keep kind expressions on their faces. "Did people like them?"

"Absolutely," Steve exclaims. "You think people came to see us play? Halftime was always packed."

"I knew some theater kids," Eddie adds, "through Hellfire. They liked when you made up the dances for them. They said you were nice and a good teacher."

"Oh, that's so sweet." You blink, a bit shocked at the flattery you never knew existed. "I can look into it."

"You'd be a great dancer and choreographer," Steve says.

Eddie nods. "You always were."

You change the subject so the butterflies in your stomach can stop going crazy. "Stevie, did you say you got in trouble for watching me?"

Now he goes pink. "I might've lost the ball a couple times," he mumbles. Your lips twitch. "But who could blame me? You were stunning. Still are."

"Did King Steve...like me in high school?"

Eddie laughs. "We both did, sweetheart." You look at him. "My homeroom angel, I called you."

You melt. "Stop, that's so cute."

"And you liked us too, honey," Steve continues. "If us being your 'dream threesome' is anything to go by."

"Guilty," you reply with a giggle.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Eddie asks. There's something in his voice, a trace of something pained.

You look down. "I liked you both and I...I couldn't choose. Didn't seem right to try with just one of you, and I didn't want you to think I was cheating on you. I wasn't sure you'd understand."

"I'm not sure I would've," Steve admits. "In high school, at least. Small-minded back then."

"'Til he met me," Eddie says proudly, "and I opened his eyes to the world of polyamory." Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't disagree.

"Have you guys done this before?" You ask.

They shake their heads. "Nothing together," Eddie clarifies.

"But we're not against it," Steve adds.

"Actually, we're all for it if it involves you," Eddie finishes. You smile.

"Only if you want to," Steve reassures.

"What part of 'dream threesome' didn't you understand?" You tease, making them grin excitedly. "Obviously I'm interested."

"Just one question, princess." Eddie looks a little nervous. You nod, encouraging. He takes a deep breath. "Why...why us? You're a centerfold, possibly the hottest centerfold ever photographed. You could have anyone. What makes us special?"

Your face softens and you reach out your hands, grabbing theirs and holding tight. "Eddie Munson, I have been in love with you since I first saw you make a commotion in Mr. Clerk's class after he'd humiliated Emily Trollop by making fun of her last name and you stood up for her. And Steve Harrington, I have been in love with you since I saw you make the winning shot for the junior varsity basketball championship and you'd been so genuinely excited that you'd hugged everyone on the team and all the cheerleaders. Not to sound sappy or like a cliché, but it's always been you two. Doesn't matter if I'm a centerfold or the most eligible woman around. You've had my heart for years. No one else stood a chance."

Both boys sit there, stunned to hear these words from you, the girl they've always wanted and never thought they could have. Then Steve is tugging you forward and you're falling towards him and he's kissing you, intense and full of unspoken affection. When you break away, Eddie moves your head to him and kisses you too, passionate and saying everything he can't say aloud. You're all panting by the time you've stopped.

"You were the one that got away, angel," Eddie whispers.

"We never stopped loving you, baby," Steve murmurs.

Tears come to your eyes, and you try to blink them away. "Sorry," you sniffle, embarrassed.

"No apologies necessary, honey." Steve wipes away a stray droplet with his thumb. "This is a dream come true."

"Honest," Eddie agrees, voice a little warbled.

You sniff and lean back, sitting up straight and drying your eyes. You look at them with a gentle smile. "Missed you guys."

They chuckle. "Missed you too, sweetheart," Eddie replies.

"You know what, angel, I've heard that Northwestern has a pretty good dance program." Steve's trying to be nonchalant but you can see through it. He's excited by the idea, and so are you.

"Is that so?" You play along. "I wonder if I know anybody who lives in Illinois."

"Well, it just so happens that you know two awesome guys who reside in Chicago." Eddie's fighting a smile.

"And who might they be?" You're smirking to prevent a huge grin from breaking onto your face.

"Oh, your two new loving boyfriends," Steve offers, "if you'll have them."

"You know, I think I will." You finally cave and really smile, making your boys smile back. You kiss them each.

"Thank god for centerfolds!" Eddie shouts, making you all laugh.

;

A month later, the phone rings.

Steve sets down the box he's carrying, wipes his brow, and picks it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Steve! It's Nancy!" She's bubbling over with excitement.

"Whoa, hey," he replies with a smile. "What's up?"

"Jonathan proposed and I said yes!"

The smile grows wider. "Congrats, I'm glad he finally did it. He showed us the ring at the reunion."

"Yeah, it was really sweet. Wait—the reunion. Why'd you and Eddie disappear? I thought you two were gonna support me."

Steve looks around the apartment. It's cluttered with moving boxes, haphazardly labeled and strewn everywhere. He wouldn't have thought you'd have so much stuff to bring, but guess living in L.A. as a model gets one lots of free shit. You're still in the process of applying to Northwestern, but the boys invited you to move in anyways. They wanted you close whether you got in or not, and although they both think you're a shoo-in, there are other schools near Chicago you could try if you don't.

There's a ruckus by the front door, and then you and Eddie appear, carrying in a bookcase. Eddie is cracking jokes and you're laughing, warning him to stop before you drop the furniture because you're laughing too hard. Steve listens to you two talk over each other and watches as both of your smiles just grow bigger and never fade. You turn and notice Steve looking at you, and scrunch your face at him. It's along the same lines as a cat slow-blinking to tell someone they love them.

"Oh, you know," he says to Nancy, "we just found somewhere more important to be."

The old friends talk for a bit more, Nancy explaining the proposal—Robin had helped, but just a little—and then they say their goodbyes. When he sets down the phone, Eddie's just entering the apartment with what seems like a heavy box, and he sets it down where there's space. You walk in too, not carrying anything, and Eddie grumbles that you could've helped. You just go up to him and kiss his cheek and he melts, giving you a winning smile.

Eddie notices Steve's off the phone. "Who was that?"

"Nancy. Jonathan finally popped the question."

"Oh, yay!" You clapped excitedly. Steve and Eddie had told you about Jonathan showing them the ring.

"Good for them," Eddie agrees.

Steve moves towards you, and you hold out an arm for him to slip around his waist, which he does. "Yeah. She also said she could be mad about me and Eddie leaving the reunion but, and I quote, 'I'm so happy that I'll forgive you'." The three of you laugh. "She spoke like there was an exclamation point after every sentence."

"I'm happy for them." You sigh and rest your head on Steve's shoulder. Eddie holds out a hand and wiggles his fingers, and you giggle as you take it. "I love weddings."

"I think they'll actually have a nice one," Eddie muses, rubbing a thumb across yours. "Plus, you'll look so good all dressed up for it."

Both boys are thinking of all you dressed up, but you're wearing a big white gown, and holding a bouquet, and standing at the start of an aisle with them at the end.

You beam. "I'm sure you two can clean up nicely too. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

Steve narrows his eyes at your teasing. "Are you sassing us, baby?"

"No," you reply, with an innocent expression and glinting eyes. "Definitely not."

"Oh, it's on." Steve starts tickling you, and you shriek with laughter. You escape his grasp and run further into the apartment.

"Come on," Eddie says, already starting to rush after you. "Let's go get our girl."

Steve grins and follows.

#steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #mine

[askfoxythejokerfox]

FNAF OC Ghostbusters Crossover

*both Foxy The Joker and Springtrap get suited up as Foxy The Joker zips up her suit she decides to zip it back down a little to show her breasts off a little to try to look sexy (lol) as she puts on a necklace that says "I ain't afraid of no ghosts" on as Springtrap puts on his proton pack Foxy The Joker takes her hook off and puts on a plasma cannon onto her hook and connects it to the hose to the proton pack as they both head to Willy's Wonderland Pizzeria as some epic rock music plays in the background*

*Foxy The joker and Springtrap and smile softly as they both nod*

Foxy The Joker: let's do this shit! *epic rock music plays in the background as Foxy The Joker tries to kick the door in trying to act like a bad ass but fails as there was a loud CLANG! noise as the epic rock music stops and Foxy The Joker yells* SHIT!! ahhh....*rubs her leg in pain* thought the fuckers kept the fucking doors open! ahh...*still groaning slightly in pain* it's NOTHING like they do in the movies!

Springtrap: *opens the door* um because they kept the doors unlocked babe...

Foxy The Joker: o-oh! heh...I knew that! heh...just wanted to look like a badass in front of my boyfriend heh *smirks and blushes*

Springtrap: *laughs softly and kisses him softly* of course your a badass love...

Foxy The Joker: *giggles and nuzzles him softly* I love you so much babe....lets do this and end this shit with these fuckers trying to copy our business...

*after a few hours they both finally captured all of the other animatronics successfully trapping them all except for Willy Weasel Foxy The Joker looks around nervously with the P.K.E Meter*

Foxy The Joker: huh...wonder were the other asshole went...hmm...

Springtrap: *looks up and and freezes In terror*

Foxy The Joker: hmm? what's wrong honey?

Springtrap: u-um...h-hes...*gulps nervously as his face turned pale white*

Foxy The Joker: *sighs* he's right behind me isn't he?

Springtrap: *nods nervously*

Foxy The Joker: ok on the count of 3...1...2...3!! *turns around with the P.K.E. Meter she zaps Willy using the pulse upgrade on the P.K.E. meter as it groans in pain she turns on the plasma canon on her hook and Zaps him as the animatronic body Willy was possessing started to slowly break apart catching on fire as she successfully pulled out the killer's spirit from the suit*

Foxy The Joker: BABE! THE TRAP! NOW!!

Springtrap: ON IT!! *he throws the trap twords Foxy The Joker*

Foxy The Joker: *stops on the peddle as the trap opens up but Willy wasn't going down without a fight as he was trying to break free of the stasis stream* GOD DAMMIT! BABE THIS FUCKER IS TRYING TO BREAK FREE OF THE STREAM!!!

Springtrap: ON IT! *activates his neutrona wand and fires another stream onto Willy successfully forging a teacher on him*

Foxy The Joker: THERE WE GO! HAHA! COME ON TUBBY! YA COMING HOME WITH ME TO THE LAB!! *smirks as she steps on the peddle again opening the trap as Willy was desperately trying to break free from the teachers but fails as he was successfully sucked into the trap as Foxy The Joker stops on the peddle again closing the trap successfully trapping all of the killers souls into the trap*

Foxy The Joker: *pants softly* heh...wow!...this sunva bitch put one helluva fight heh...let's get these fuckers back to the contaminant unit back in Freddy's...at least now these fuckers can't ever hurt a living soul again...besides it's my job here in Gotham to kill the criminals not there's...

#funny #FNAF Oc #Foxy The Joker Fox #Ghostbusters #Willy's Wonderland #foxy the joker speaks #uploads

[grunge-mermaid]

here's a fun practical joke to play on someone who allergic to sugar cane:

stuff a kinder egg capsule with sugar packets (one with a hole) from a restaurant that hasn't existed in 10 years and sneak it into a parcel while your wife isn't looking so when the recipient opens it, thinking how considerate it was of her parents to send her the toy but not the chocolate, she and her apartment get covered in sugar

#honestly the whiplash from my childlike joy of I GOT A KINDER EGG TOY WITHOUT GETTING POISONED!!!!! #to FUCK SHIT FUCK WHAT THE FUCK OH GOD MY APARTMENT IS CONTAMINATED OH FUCK OH GOD NO #I have now (indirectly) read my father the riot act by going through my mother #if I did it directly I'd be told to lighten up or that it's just a joke #instead of him acknowledging that he just put my physical health at risk #and have requested that no more candy be sent unless it is maple syrup candies #from our friends' sugar bush

[songmingisthighs]

[20.50] wooyoung × reader ft. ateez

⇀ how do you win a stupid argument ?

⇁ buckle up, it's best friends!ateez y'all

It was supposed to be a fun night in.

All 8 boys were free of schedule and were beyond sick of their dorms so they decided, without telling you that they were having a sleepover at your apartment until they're sick of it or their manager came dragging them back to their dorm.

Everything was going smoothly at first.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong picked the movies obviously from your netflix which they had been leeching off of, Yunho, Mingi, and San brought snacks, Yeosang and Wooyoung brought drinks, and Jongho brought extra bedding for all of them to crash on.

You guys were 2 movies in before San began whining about needing to go to the toilet but not wanting to miss anything. Seriously, what could you possibly miss from twilight?

So you all decided to take a short break before continuing with your impromptu twilight saga movie marathon. As stupid as it is, you guys were actually enjoying it. Even Jongho.

"(Y/N), we're out of popcorn," Hongjoong called out, breaking your conversation with Mingi as he mindlessly drop the popcorn bowl on your lap, making you glare at him, "I'm not your errand girl, Hongjoong, make the popcorn yourself,"

"Sure, okay," surprisingly, he got up and grab the bowl from your lap. You thought he'd just go and make the popcorn himself, but before he walk to your kitchen, he stood by you while tilting his head, "you have the fire department's number on speed dial, right?"

You narrow your eyes at him, understanding what he meant.

Not really wanting to deal with a burnt down kitchen, you groaned, stood up, and grab the bowl from him, "you're lucky I'm such a nice person," you grumbled.

Hongjoong grinned widely at you, happy that you're abiding to his request.

"Aww, cheer up champ, you know I only ask you because you make the best popcorn," he then slung an arm around your shoulder, "come on, pancake! I'll watch, you cook!" He exclaimed while practically dragging you to the kitchen.

You both passed by San who had just finished his business in the toilet and see Wooyoung getting in.

As you made Hongjoong his popcorn, and the others debate which team they were on, Jacob or Edward, and whether it'd be more efficient to be a vampire or a wolf, but the debate was halted when a loud scream was heard from your bathroom.

You all halt all movements for a split second before rushing to the bathroom to see whether or not Wooyoung is okay. You told Hongjoong to stand by the popcorn as it is about to be done.

You bang the bathroom door 3 times before yelling, "Wooyoung? Wooyoung! Are you okay? What happened, what's wrong!?"

When no sound came from the other side, you were ready to run back to the living room, grab Jongho and told him to break your door open.

But thankfully Wooyoung opened the door before you were able to do anything else.

"Jesus Christ, Jung Wooyoung you scared the living shit out of-"

"Why did you put the tab of your toilet paper over?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, "I'm sorry, what?"

Wooyoung pointed at the toilet paper roll that hung on the dispenser by the toilet, "appology accepted, but answer me, why did you put the tab on the outside aka over ?"

"Appology accepte- what? Wooyoung are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

He sighed at you and crossed his arms, "I didn't hit my head, no, but you might have because why would you put your toilet paper in that position? THAT'S WRONG!"

Still not quite getting what his problem is, you just shook your head at him, "I just put it that way because that's how I always do it, what's the big deal?" You answered him before walking away to rejoin the others.

But Wooyoung still wasn't satisfied, "noooooo no no no no no, (Y/N), no," he caught up to you and grab both of your shoulders, "you need to repent, (Y/N), come back to the righteous path," he whined.

You tried shrugging his hands off of you but he kept a firm grip, even staring so deep into your eyes to the point that you kinda feel violated.

"Jung Wooyoung, it's just a toilet paper placement, what the heck is your issue with it?" You asked, starting to get irritated, "my issue is that it's not in the correct position!" "Yes, it is!" "No it's not!"

Finally noticing the commotion between you and Wooyoung, the others turned to you both, "wait, what's happening?" San asked, eyes blinking in confusion.

Wooyoung jab a finger to your shoulder, "little princess here put her toilet paper weird!" He shrieked, making you cringe at the sheer loudness of it, "I did not," you cut yourself off to push his jabbing finger off of you, "put it weird, YOU're the one who put your toilet paper weird,"

You don't know how but you've fallen into the argument. Maybe it's because of Wooyoung's persistence.

"There's nothing weird about putting the tab under! It's more efficient a-"

Before he could say more, Seonghwa had cut him off, "YOU're the one who put the toilet paper like that!?"

Blinking confusedly, Wooyoung just nod at his older member.

Seonghwa groaned and glared at him, "that's so unnatural! I had to reposition it so many times but it kept going back to the previous position, I even blame Hongjoong for that!"

Hongjoong, who was back on his position on the mat with a fresh bowl of popcorn scoffed, "told you it wasn't me, I'm whimsical, not a lunatic,"

"Wait, I don't get it," San piped in, "what toilet paper tab position are we talking about?"

Wooyoung ran back to your toilet to procure a toilet paper roll. He demonstrated which side is over and which side is under.

"Oh, pfft the correct side is under, of course," San said, which earned him a shove to the side by Yeosang, "no, the correct one is over," Yeosang said, which prompted a new debate between them, "why would it be over ? If you put it over then the toilet paper will be contaminated by the bathroom's germs!" "As opposed to the very clean toilet wall? Nice logic, San, where did you get it? The corner mini mart?" "Hey! They're the only one who sell that one chocolate milk from Japan, they're heroes!"

Wooyoung turned his attention back to you, "see? I got San on my side," to which you rolled your eyes and scoffed at him, "really? You're proud of that? I've got Kang Yeosang on my side, he's the one with the braincell," hearing that, made San snap his head towards you for a split second, "hey!" He exclaimed to which both you and Wooyoung ignored.

Jongho casually strolled in and plop himself next to Hongjoong, picking some popcorn from the bowl, "I don't get this stupid argument, why don't you guys just use regular facial tissue?"

That, brought a whole new argument to the table.

Hongjoong was the first to spoke up against him, "Jongho! It's called facial tissue!" Jongho only raised an eyebrow at that, "yeah? So?" "It's for faces! Not for butt wiping!" "Well, if that's the case then toilet paper isn't for butt wiping either!"

"Guys," Yunho called from the corridor, trying to get all of your attention.

But no one was listening to him, too immersed in the argument.

"No, no, see, if not for butt wiping, what would toilet paper be for?" Seonghwa asked Jongho.

Jongho shrugged, "I don't know? Toilet purposes? Wiping hands? It was Hongjoong hyung's logic," he defended himself.

"Guys," Yunho called once more.

Yeosang rolled his eyes at Jongho, "then the name should be hand tissue!" He exclaimed.

San piped in, "that doesn't make any sense? Why would you need tissues just for one specific thing? Things could have double function," Jongho clapped his hands at that, "see? Now that's logic!" "Really? So you agree that toilet paper tabs should be under?" "What? Heck no, over is the way"

Having had had enough of being ignored, and seeing that the argument is nowhere of being done, Yunho took a deep breath and yelled.

"GUYS!!!!!"

It proved to be effective as suddenly everyone was looking at him.

"Mingi got his head stuck on (Y/N)'s barred bedroom window" he said simply.

Hearing that, you immediately ran over to Mingi, Wooyoung following first, "God fucking damn it, Song Mingi! What the heck did you do!?" You yelled which was answered by muffles from your bedroom. Soon everyone followed to help their friend.

And with that, the toilet paper argument was long forgotten.

Or at least, for now.

#ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #san #yeosang #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #mingi #jongho #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez soft hours #smt timestamp

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

When Lappland woke up that morning, the first thing she noticed was how cold her bed was; the second thing was the Doctor-shaped hole in it; and the third was that it was, in fact, her bed and not his. This series of observations confused her - she’d definitely fallen asleep in his bed last night and had been for the past four months - and so she did what any rational person would do: yell.

“Doctoooor!” The Lupo roamed around her apartment, finding neither hide nor hair of her captive darling...darling captive? He was hers, that was what mattered. “Dooooctooooor! You there, my guy?...No?...Well, shit, where’d he go? I’ll try texting him.”

A rigorous search of her phone told her nothing - or, rather, it told her ALL information related to the Doctor she’d kept on there (contact info, some pictures both safe for work and otherwise, conversations, anything related to him) had been precision-stripped from her device while leaving everything else intact. It was like he’d never existed according to her phone. “Well, fuck. Weird bug, but maybe someone can help me find him. Or fix my phone. One of the two. Seriously, what the fuck happened?”

“Lappland?” A voice at her front door. Since she was wearing pajamas (for some reason), there wasn’t anything to stop her from answering.

“Yeah? Oh, hey, Pipsqueak.” Her ‘affectionate’ name for Sussurro. “What’s up?”

The Vulpo simply gave her a look - not offended, at least not at this hour of the day. “You were calling for a doctor.”

“Huh? No, I was calling for Doctor.”

“The only difference is a definite article in there.” She walked around the Lupo in a tight circle. “Feeling alright?”

Lappland...well, she might as well tell someone what was happening, and Pipsqueak seemed to know something. “You know where The Doctor is?”

“Who are you referring to? Dr. Kal’tsit?” Now Sussurro’s tone was drifting into confusion.

“No, The Doctor.” The Lupo shook her head. “Company hoodie, runs strategy and personal relations, been shacking up with him for the past four months?”

More, deeper confusion. “I’m sorry, Lappland, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Four months, you say?”

“Yeah. Look, he gave me thi- what the fuck?!” There should’ve been a bite mark from the other night on one of her shoulders, but it, too, was gone.

“Calm down, Lappland,” the Vulpo advised. “Would you mind coming with me to my office so we can get this down in writing?”

She certainly did...but she needed her Doctor and she needed him NOW, damnit. At least Pipsqueak wanted to help. “Yeah, sure, whatever brings him back, take me with you.”

“Alright. If you wouldn’t mind stepping in front of me? I’ll tell you when to turn.” With that, the Lupo took the lead, following Sussurro’s directions to Medical, then to a small office near the front.

“Good morning, Dr. Sussurro,” Ptilopsis chirped as they entered the office. “How may we help you?”

The Vulpo gestured to the door. “Close that for us; I’ll be writing a transcript for an exam with Lappland here.”

“An exam? You think I’m lying?”

“Lying, no,” the Medic replied, “but there’s a reason you remember this Doctor person and I don’t- Ptilopsis? Something wrong?”

At the mention of ‘Doctor,’ Tilly had stutter-stepped. “Corrupted database entry found: one file labeled ‘The Doctor.’ Peripheral contamination detected; quarantining affected data...This unit needs to record this infraction.”

“Close the door and record it for the transcript; this is more serious than I thought. Perhaps some kind of cognition hazard...” Sussurro hopped over to where she kept her medical journal, flipped to a fresh page, and began writing furiously.

“You remember him, too, then?” Lappland grabbed the Liberi’s shoulder as she turned away from the now-closed door. “Do you know what happened?! Tell me if you do!”

Ptilopsis shuddered. “This unit apologizes, User Lappland, but this unit’s memory bank has been corrupted. This unit cannot determine the veracity of their data-”

“To hell with that! What. Do. You. Know.” The frenzy was starting to kick in.

“Lappland, control yourself or I will be forced to control you,” Sussurro called from her desk, eyeing her patient with a frown. “Please give us time. We’re working through this together.”

The Lupo growled. “I could throw you across the room and make sure you wouldn’t bounce.”

“I believe that. Ptilopsis, how are you doing?”

“Data recovery complete,” Tilly replied as her eyes changed color. “Assuming direct control.”

Both Vulpo and Vulpo-chucker looked at the Liberi. “Ptilopsis?”

“She realized I was the only one who knew what happened to him, so I’m gonna take over for a minute. Nice to see the outside after all that time cooped up in her head.” She giggled.

“...Ah.” Sussorro reached for her tranquilizer setup. “What happened, then?”

The Other Voice grinned at Lappland. “This is all a dream, lil’ Lappy. Alllll a dream.”

“Then get me the fuck out of it.”

“Oh, I can’t.” ‘Ptilopsis’ opened the door. “Go find Dusk. She’ll get you out.”

The Lupo was gone before the tranq dart landed in the analyst’s neck.

Locating Dusk was actually rather simple: find Saga. “Hey! Saga! Where’s Dusk?”

“Oh! Hail and well met, Miss Lappland!” The Perro gestured to a nearby wall that was curled in on itself - attempted camouflage? Hard to say. “Surely you shall come upon her in here, although she has most graciously asked for a warning-”

“I’ll give her a warning, alright. Thanks.” No further questions; the Lupo charged across the painting’s threshold.

The monk looked on for a moment. “If only I’d spoken more precisely. I meant to give her a warning, not ask her to give one in turn...”

“Ashes to SilverAsh, dust to Dusk!” Lappland called into the inky blackness she’d found waiting for her. “I don’t know why I’m here, but you’d better take me back quickly!”

“Even a facsimile of Saga can’t help but be helpful, it seems. Will you stop shouting so much if I send you back?” The Dusk addressed her without revealing herself.

Her visitor, though, knew exactly where she was. “You’re my world’s Dusk?”

“Obviously.” The artist waited. “So?”

“Take me back, or my shouting will be the least of your problems.” Lappland’s hand was pressed against the back of her neck.

Dusk sighed. “A thousand rivers will dry before a drop of my blood meets the earth. You really think-”

“I don’t.” The Lupo struck the Dusk’s back with her other hand in three very specific places, and her victim fell forward. “I also found the exit while you were replying. You’ll be back on your feet in an hour. The next time you do this, you’re dead.”

“Ah...So this is where she took her?” The Doctor was standing in front of a conspicuous, swirling void made of paint.

Saga nodded. “Verily, I witnessed her in the midst of crossing the threshold. Doctor, thine anger burns brighter than I hath seen.”

“Don’t worry, Saga, I’m not angry.” He cracked his neck. “I’m furious. When I see her-”

“Doctor!!!” Lappland, like a streak of white lightning, bolted across the threshold and sent them both flying into the opposite wall.

Their Perro witness clapped. “Lappland! Thou hast spared Dusk the wrath of thine beloved!”

“Why?” Said beloved’s face was covering her with kisses and secondhand tears at the moment. “Why the fuck did she take you?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, and she didn’t care; much more important was the fact that she was home.

“If I might interject? Lady Dusk oft spoke of Lappland’s cackling having a powerfully distracting effect on her. Mayhaps she found herself incapable of restraining herself and acted out in anger?”

“...Sounds like what she said,” the Lupo muttered in the Doctor’s ear. “Can we go home?”

He squeezed her tightly to his chest before letting her rise to her feet and following suit. “Let’s go home...Saga? Let Dusk know I’ll need to speak with her tomorrow. I see a lot of Orirock in her future, and I’m not talking about her painting a fucking mountain.”

“Um, yes, I shall inform her of thine will post-haste.” Saga took her leave into the ink dimension.

“She’s got another fifty minutes of time-out,” Lappland noted, her entire demeanor muted by relief, both hers and her dearest’s. “Some god...same weak points as a Lung...”

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “Let’s forget about her for the rest of the day, hmm? All that matters right now is that you’re here, and I’m here, and that’s not changing any time soon.”

“Mmm...Yeah. You have my phone on you?”

“Sure do.” He handed it to her, and she opened her photo album. “Everything there?”

The Perro nodded, scrolling until she was satisfactorily reassured that this was the right reality she was in, before putting it away in her pajama pants pocket. Everything was back to the way it should be.

Everything, that is, except for Dusk’s locomotive capabilities, but they’d sort themselves out eventually.

#arknights #arknights fic #lappland (arknights) #this was the 'an Operator dating the Doctor wakes up and the Doctor's been forgotten' prompt #went with Lappland because i am not immune to Lappland attraction #especially after she saved my ASS in the R6S event #silence+ranged arts damage? #woof woof #i am definitely some kind of hypocrite for being attracted to her in spite of her whole personality #but i'm a simp first and logical person second

[washymylifeaway]

SakuAtsu Fanfic recs pt2 leggo

I promised a pt 2 and here it is! Link to pt 1 here :) I was lazy so given summaries (I cped this time, but in the future I might paraphrase), and ofc these aren’t all of the ones I loved, just some :D So in no particular order, have some SakuAtsu <3

As always, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for fics before reading (esp cause I didn’t put individual warnings PLEASE make sure you’re okay with the content!!!!!!) and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Teach Me, Tune Me, Tempt Me by Anonymous (E) 38.8k // Sakusa Kiyoomi needs to conquer many lifelong fears in order to enter his first romantic relationship. Miya Atsumu is there to guide him every step of the way, even if the one Sakusa desires is someone else.

Flowers Bloom In Our Masks by UnicornFlowers (G) 24.5k // "Mysophobia, also known as verminophobia, germophobia, germaphobia, bacillophobia and bacteriophobia, is a pathological fear of contamination and germs." "You read that off of Wikipedia." "That's the point, Omi-kun. I read up on it fer you."

the art of folding a handkerchief by Emlee_J (T) 5.6k // “Atsumu-san’s just realised he likes Sakusa-san,” Shouyou says simply, as though announcing the weather. “Ahh,” Bokuto nods sagely, standing up straight and nodding his head, as though this was a perfectly normal thing to hear and not monumental in any way. “'Ahh?'” Atsumu protests, indignantly, “what do ya mean ‘ahh?’” “We were wondering when you were going to notice,” Bokuto shrugs, and Atsumu gawps at him. “'Scuse me?” He splutters, and whips his gaze around to Shouyou, who bobs his head at him in confirmation. “How did you two notice before I did?” Atsumu blurts out. "Most people do," Shouyou says softly. -In which Atsumu develops something annoying, like feelings for a teammate, but at least he has a couple of wingmen and Tobio's seemingly infinite resources to help him out.

for whom the heart beats by cielelyse (T) 1.6k // Atsumu's heart keeps skipping a beat whenever Sakusa's around - so often that it's baffling and honestly downright concerning. "I think I might have a medical condition," he says into the phone. "Good," says Osamu, and hangs up.

as you are by papertulips (G) 5.8k // Kiyoomi learns that falling for Atsumu is the easiest thing in the world.

Hide and seek by badreputation (E) 10.5k // It’s just a fleeting infatuation. As long as he pushes through it he’ll manage. So what if nowadays there isn’t a night where he doesn’t dream of Sakusa pinning him down on his own bed, in the shower or make Atsumu go down on his knees in the hallway? Those are just pesky details.

People Will Say We're in Love by tirralirra (T) 9.5k // “Saku...Atsu? What does that even mean?” Atsumu says, squinting at the device. People seem to think that Sakusa and Atsumu are in love, so they come up with a list of things to do to deter that. Maybe it would work...if they weren’t in love.

do not separate! by aalphard (T) 5k // He knows he likes peanut butter and the tuna onigiri Uncle Shamu makes for him. He knows he likes volleyball and the way his daddy looks so, so cool when he’s on court. He knows he likes drawing and playing with toy swords. He knows he likes reading and it’s even better when Atsumu is the one reading for him. He knows he likes to have pancakes in the morning but he also really, really likes tamagoyaki and he knows his daddy can’t make those at all. He tries, but fails every single time. He knows his daddy’s teammates like him and he knows they’ll help him if he wants to play with them one day. But the thing is he likes Uncle Omi-kun more than he likes the rest of them and that is a secret he won’t tell anyone that’s not his daddy. He doesn’t like to make people sad.“Omi?” “Yeah?” “Nao said he likes you more than he likes the rest of the team. Don’t tell’em.” or atsumu is a single dad and kiyoomi can't help but fall for him.

you make my heart burn by myhopeisjhope (G) 9.2k // “What’s up with that awful expression?” Atsumu asked. He leaned against the counter with his hip, looking directly at Kiyoomi, his regular fox-line grin plastered on his face. Kiyoomi made eye-contact with him then, his eyebrows knotting in annoyance, but Atsumu was too interested in the cute pair of beauty marks above Kiyoomi’s eye to care about the glare that was sent his way. “What’s up with that awful hair?” Kiyoomi shot back. And that was exactly when Atsumu decided he liked the guy. 

somewhere in the middle (i think we lied a little) by akanemnida (E) 4.3k // “Body worship,” Miya said instantly, after Kiyoomi asked him what he wanted as reward as the winner of their service ace competition. “I can do that,” Kiyoomi said with a frown. “God, you really are the vainest person on this planet—”Miya shook his head, smirking. “Nuh-uh, Omi-kun. I meant I wanted ‘ta worship ‘ya.”(Or: Sakusa and Atsumu and all the blurred lines in between.)

san'yō expressway, 6:17 pm by yamabato (T) 8.1k // Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe. Kiss him again, maybe. They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out.

affection by papertulips (G) 2.1k // "I gave you the key to my house for emergencies only." “This is an emergency.” “What?” Atsumu pouts, looking up at him with wide eyes that definitely work on Kiyoomi but he will never admit it. “I missed you.”

love could be labeled poison and we'd drink it anyways by myhopeisjhope (NR) 21.3k // "Huh?" is Atsumu's response, and it's seemingly the only thing the man could think of after the minute-long silence that stretched between them. "We should break up," Kiyoomi repeats, more clearly now. He doesn't let any emotion seep into his voice, keeping it neutral and detached, as if breaking up with Atsumu was the easiest thing ever, while in fact it's the complete opposite.

And I'll Ask for the Sea by meeks00 (T) 6.9k // When a couple of his teammates reveal that Atsumu has feelings for him, Sakusa doesn’t react well. It doesn’t help that Atsumu is his typical petty and salty self. --“Come on,” Atsumu is saying in a wheedling tone behind a bright grin. “Just stop,” Sakusa snaps suddenly. “Will you just leave me alone for once? I don’t even like you!”Normally, Sakusa’s words don’t phase Atsumu at all. He’ll talk over Sakusa or brush off any harsh words easily enough and might turn to someone else for the attention he apparently craves. But this time, Sakusa’s words seem to stop him cold, the smile freezing for just a moment on his face.

the Definition of Miya Atsumu, by Sakusa Kiyoomi by orphan_account (G) 4k // Miya Atsumu is a self-centred prick who thinks he's top shit. Underneath the word 'asshole' in the dictionary is a picture of his stupidly pretty face. Sakusa Kiyoomi's definition is, according to him, 100% correct, until he takes a closer look.

i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by liliapocalypse (T) 7.6k // Seeing Sakusa stressed out, Atsumu writes random letters on Sakusa’s skin to soothe him during the team’s assisted stretches. Somewhere along the way, the touches shift from barely tolerable to something Sakusa actively craved for. One day, though, Atsumu accidentally writes a confession instead.

it ain't no matter of 'if' honey, it's just a matter of 'when' by irleggsy (M) 2.1k // With a beer in one hand and an accusatory pointer finger on the other, Sakusa slurred, shouted even, “Atsumu. If you wear those godforsaken cutoff camo jorts one more fucking time I’m breaking up with you.”Atsumu made a noise in his throat caught somewhere between a wheeze and a squawk that came out more of an avant-garde honk noise than anything else. He stared up at Sakusa with wide eyes, a bewildered smile just barely glued onto his face. Or: The MSBY Black Jackals go to a bar. Sakusa likes to run his mouth when he's drunk.

dog eat dog eat dog world by perennials (T) 8.4k // You are your first and only line of defense against the universe.

Who Could Have Seen This Coming? by crone_zone (M) 16.7k // Peering out the side of his eyes at the man walking beside him, Sakusa wondered why he’d impulsively changed his mind about his plans this evening when he’d noticed Miya’s reluctance. Surely he wasn’t worried about this asshole, was he?--In which Sakusa impulsively invites Atsumu over to his apartment when he sees he's upset and something entirely unexpected happens: he realizes he likes this asshole. Cue [off-camera]sex, mutual confessions, insecurity, and adorable losers who are opposite in all the right ways.

Miya Atsumu's unwavering love for Sakusa Kiyoomi and an unholy amount of terrible food analogies that should not have the right to Exist by aiviloti (G) 5.6k // Five times Miya Atsumu talks to (harasses) his friends and sibling because he has feelings for Sakusa and doesn't know what to do or how to deal with them and the one time he talks to Sakusa about it. “How do you make friends apart from showering them in praise?” Atsumu wails one night, and Osamu thinks, oh god, here we go again.

Sakusa's Secret Admirer by TwilaFrost (T) 20.2k // Every day after practice, Kiyoomi finds another letter inside his shoe locker. It's only every signed: -❤ He's determined to find this person. Is it crazy to fall in love with someone you've never met?

take what's yours and make it mine by claudusdiei (T) 5.9k // (this has a second fic hehe) atsumu falls in love four times in his life (or: in which atsumu gets his heart broken twice, has the self-awareness of a sober mule and really likes yellow tulips)

School Bus Yellow by yuuki (G) 4.9k // Atsumu has a crush on Sakusa, and it’s kind of ridiculous how much he likes a guy who wears ugly colored jackets and is afraid of germs.Though, Atsumu’s probably not all that great himself. He’s still figuring that part out.

show me how by emeraldpalace (G) 2.9k // Sakusa isn’t sure when or how it happened, but the fact remains: Miya Atsumu has become a comfortable constant in his life.

touch me (i want you to) by melstar (G) 3.9k // He should have seen it coming, really. Spend six months tip-toeing around the line of domesticity with the team’s resident germaphobe, and there was no way he’d be able to think of the guy the same way anymore. Or, Atsumu touches Sakusa's arm once and thus begins a downward spiral into the inescapable jaws of attraction.

Dreaming of You, Talking About You by kitkatwrites (T) 1.1k // Osamu learns that Atsumu talks in his sleep, especially about a certain wing spiker from Tokyo.

If your world falls apart, I'd start a riot by Serendipity (jenjaemrens) (NR) 3.1k // "It was Atsumu who was the older brother, but it was Osamu who was more protective of him. He would always protect Atsumu from things around them that could hurt him. "Or, the story of Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu through the eyes of Miya Osamu.

but soft what light by min_mintobe (T) 2.1k // "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, Bokkun—" Atsumu drawls, "—hot. "In which Miya Atsumu woos Sakusa Kiyoomi by (gratuitously, seductively) quoting Shakespeare. One-shot.

sakusa kiyoomi's fixation on (miya atsumu's) lips by catsoncocaine (E) 3.7k // Everything about Atsumu is fucking beautiful, but there is one specific part of his that is like kryptonite for Kiyoomi. It is both his curse and his remedy, rendering him useless and yet egging him on to move at the same time. Kiyoomi hates it as much as he loves it.

The Jacket In Your Closet by dai_naning (T) 8.6k // According to the gossiping players around him, Miya Atsumu is an asshole. He's an incredible player in court and an obnoxious person off the court. He taunts people, points out their weakness, and doesn't give a shit if he's disliked or not. Some even say his teammates ostracize him. Sakusa looks at Miya Atsumu and can only see a player who keeps his eyes firmly forward, demanding the same to the players who want to stay on the court. Sakusa can't fault him for that. (That doesn't erase the fact that he's an asshole though. And that he's still the one who gave a jacket to a stranger.)

sakusa kiyoomi is....an uncle? by miyaudrey (T) 5.9k // “Oh, by the way, my nieces and nephews are going to be there.” “Your what now?” Or, Atsumu finds out three hours prior to a Sakusa family gathering that Kiyoomi is an uncle.

Confessions of a V-League Setter by Anubis_2701 (T) 3.3k // "Never?" Sakusa's lips thinned. "No, never. Now stop talking to me." Or, Atsumu discovers that Sakusa Kiyoomi, germaphobe and reluctant heartthrob of the Black Jackals, has never been confessed to before. He decides to change that.

Touch Me by cajynn (E) 3k // Sakusa actually likes being touched but he's very picky when it comes to who and how. When the who turns out to be Miya Atsumu he has a crisis.

Please Stop Crying by dauwtrappen (G) 2.9k // Friday starts off well until it doesn’t and Kiyoomi can hear something crash, feel something snap inside him when Miya, about to set him up for a quick attack, suddenly starts crying in the middle of their three-on-three. Kiyoomi doesn’t even react when the ball bounces off his head, doesn’t cringe when his face is smushed against the net briefly because he forgets to land in front of the it. He’s too shocked, too appalled with the tears pouring out from Miya’s eyes to care.

I can't take much more of your hesitating by playexodus (T) 2.7k // The curved sides of Atsumu’s pecs peek through that absurd tank top at just the right angle. Sakusa swallows. “Your entire chest is hanging out of that shirt. We’re in public. You could at least pretend to be a decent, morally upright person. Not to mention that this Los Angeles beach boy aesthetic is terrible on you.”Glancing back down at Atsumu’s chest to glare at his sharp, glistening collarbones is a bad idea. Sakusa wills his eyes to stay fixated on Atsumu’s face. As it turns out, this too, is a bad idea. “Oh?” Atsumu turns his half-lidded gaze onto Sakusa, the corners of his mouth curling. “Just to be clear: you’re definitely not enjoying the view then, Omi-Omi?”

curse breaking by allicanseeispink (T) 9.2k // Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers. Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours. (In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)

Summer Special: Omigiri by mika60 (T) 6.9k // Miya Osamu always comes up with the perfect marketing plan for his shop, even if it involves the two biggest idiots he knows.

a list of things sakusa kiyoomi hates by BrenH (T) 7.3k // “Just fuckin’ write shit down so ya remember it then. ”It was probably supposed to be a joke, just Osamu being as annoying and unhelpful as always, just reminding him that he shouldn’t have bothered trying to count on his brother for help. He’s forgotten about the whole thing until a few days later when he’s shopping and comes across a small, black notebook shaped like a cat, and his brother’s stupid suggestion flashes through his mind. Before he knows it, the cute little notebook is dropped in his basket, purchased, and in his possession. Or, the one where Osamu suggests Atsumu keep a notebook to track all the things Sakusa hates that he does, and he takes it further than he means to.

A Challenge, A Cat, and A Confession by Kitaa (G) 6.2k // Atsumu enjoys bothering Sakusa. One day he bothers him enough to be invited over to his apartment, only to discover that Sakusa has a plant, a cat, and a cute laugh.

Multiples Of Two by yuuki (G) 3.3k // He does everything in multiples of two. The day Sakusa Kiyoomi died, Atsumu checked his pulse twenty-eight times. Okay, so Sakusa Kiyoomi has never died. And Atsumu has never been close enough to Sakusa to be able to check his pulse. So what if Atsumu is just being dramatic again? He’s allowed to be dramatic when he’s in love with a man who has less emotion than a rock.

gold rush by sketchedsmiles (T) 18k // When the MSBY Black Jackals sign their newest team member, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Atsumu makes it his personal responsibility to befriend the indifferent player.

got sand in my eyes (and my shorts too, damn you miya) by luxnoctre (T) 4.7k // On one of their rare rest days, Hinata takes the part of the MSBY team to the beach. Chaos ensures. (or alternatively, do not piss off Sakusa when he is in the middle of relaxing)

mortality is found in the flesh of your sins by citronnes (M) 10.6k // dickhead one, sakusa kiyoomi. dickhead two, miya atsumu. neither understand how to communicate. Pray tell, why are you drawn to him?Are you drawn to him in the way he looks beautiful even when crying? When his eyes are red, shiny tears streaking down, lips quivering, is he beautiful?

This was v long ahahaha.... Anyway, is this finished? No LOL, but I’ll just make small additions via reblogs (?) over time. Maybe :) Sorry if you wanted me to ramble on about SakuAtsu,,,, slide into my messages/asks for that LOL. Maybe over time I’ll add the commentary from other posts I make in the future :’)

#sakuatsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq fic rec #anime #manga #sakuatsu fic recs #i'm a lazy person #also if you saw me saying i was gonna post kyouhaba #no you didnt #like i just said #lazy #there are a lot of fics in that one #anyway #all of these are really good #like i couldnt not put them all #ya know?

[festiveferret]

Alarmed (Tony/Bucky)

BEEP BEEP BEEP

JARVIS's emergency alarm cut through Tony's music, flushing hot adrenaline through his veins. He jerked upright, having slid nearly flat in his chair while he thought. "What is it?" He was halfway to the armour before he'd even asked his legs to move.

"Dangerous volume of particulate matter detected in the tower," JARVIS replied.

"Shit. Inside the tower?" Tony flipped the faceplate down and ran a full diagnostic of his air filtration system. If there was a contaminant in the tower, the others might have already been affected. He needed to take the time to be careful.

"Sergeant Barnes' floor."

Tony stilled, on his way to the workshop door. "Bucky?" A new layer of adrenaline flushed over the first. He and Bucky hadn't spent an inordinate amount of time together since he'd moved to the tower, but all the time they had spent in the same room had felt charged. There was no other word for it. There was an instant and intense attraction, and Tony was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who felt it.

But Bucky was newly recovered after a course of care in Shuri's hands in Wakanda, and Tony didn't want to push anything. The thought of Bucky in danger, however, urged Tony into motion. He rattled off commands to JARVIS to shut down the air venting systems, rerouting filtration, and lock down three floors of the tower. JARVIS opened a port in the side window of the workshop, and Tony blasted through, shooting straight up towards Bucky's window. 

Bucky's window opened automatically, and Tony cut through, corkscrewing through the air to slam to his feet in the middle of the open plan apartment. 

James Buchanan Barnes was standing in the kitchen, dirty pans, bowls, and spatulas dotting the countertops, completely covered, head to foot, in flour.

Tony stared for a solid minute, and Bucky stared back, scowling, then Tony burst out laughing.

"Shut up," Bucky grumbled. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You have to! J locked the tower down, oh my god, Bucky. What are you doing?"

"I'm baking."

Tony snorted and was set off into wilder peals. "Baking what? A life-sized Hulk cake?"

Bucky glared, the effect somewhat dampened by the cloud of white hair sticking up around his face and the smears of flour over his cheeks. "I -" He rolled his eyes and folded down over the counter with a groan. "I squeezed. With the wrong hand. And the flour bag… exploded."

"Oh my god." Tony opened the suit and stepped out, laughing so hard he was struggling to draw air in. "I thought someone had released a biological weapon in your apartment," he squeaked out. "I was one order away from mobilizing the whole team."

"Oh, fuck, no. Tell me you didn't tell everyone else," Bucky begged. "Clint will never let me live this down. Steve will take my oven away."

Tony stepped into the kitchen to survey the destruction. The entire floor was white with flour. "I didn't tell anyone else. J - all emergency protocols cancelled, yes?"

"Yes, sir. My apologies for the overreaction."

Something niggled at the back of Tony's mind. A vague thought that JARVIS was a proven meddler and this did seem like a bit of an overreaction. Either his code was faulty, or he was putting a little too much I in AI. That was something to look into later. Right now…

"You need a hand?" Tony couldn't stop his grin, giddy, still coming down from the panic. 

"I don't know what I need," Bucky whined mournfully. "Just hose down the whole apartment, I guess, me in it."

"How about, instead, you take a shower, and I'll get the broom out." Tony stepped a little closer, chewing the corner of his lip. "And then maybe I could hold the flour bag steady while you measure?"

Bucky's tongue darted out to brush over his bottom lip, eyes fixed on Tony. "I was baking muffins."

"I like muffins."

"Okay." Bucky watched him for a moment longer, then nodded to himself. "Okay." He shuffled off, leaving white footprints across the hardwood. 

Tony pawed through the front closet until he found a broom. "Hey, J?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You know flour isn't a dangerous contaminant, right?"

There was an uncharacteristic pause. "Flour particulates in great number can be combustible. Dust fires have a vast and fatal history."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Mhm. Sure."

But when Bucky came out of shower to check on Tony, clean and fresh and beautiful and wearing nothing but a towel… Well, Tony found it in himself to forgive his overinvolved AI.

Bingo deets under the cut

Tony Stark Bingo:

Title: Alarmed Collaborator: FestiveFerret Card Number:  3137 Square:  S4 - Adrenaline Rush Pairing: Tony/Bucky Rating: T Major Tags: Fluff  Wordcount: 770

StarkBucks Bingo: Title: Alarmed Collaborator Name: FestiveFerret Square filled: I5 - Baking Ship/Main pairing: Tony/Bucky Rating: T Major Tags: Fluff Word count: 770

#winteriron #my writing #fanfiction #tonystarkbingo2020 #starkbucksbingo2020

[anastasiabeaverhousen87]

Praying to the porcelain God

words: 3205

You been told before never to eat from suspicious food stands, especially if you never tried them before or if Kara or Alex haven’t already approved the food. But today you forgot your lunch at home and the food from the cafeteria was not very appealing for you. One of your co-workers saw you make faces at the food options and invited you to eat lunch with them. They were going to get burgers from a new street vendor a couple of blocks away. It was too tempting; you love cheeseburgers and they made it sound like they were really good. So, you said yes. Everyone was going and you were starving.

The following day you woke up feeling a little odd, a bit nauseous but you didn’t think anything about it. You got a chamomile tea instead of coffee and went about your day as usual. Kara was already gone so you just decided to grab a yogurt and granola bar at work.

You finished getting your things ready and were about to leave the apartment when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach followed by cramping. You went to the bathroom and removed your sweater, you felt a swelling of your abdomen and yes, you lower abdomen was inflamed and felt tender to the touch. Another painful cramp made you run to the toilet and you knew you were screwed the moment you sit down.

y/n: “Fuck!!!, ughh it hurts…damn it, Alex is going to kill me” – you didn’t leave the bathroom for a while, you lamented your poor choices while you were sitting in the toilet seat.

 You decided you needed to let someone know you felt like shit and wouldn’t be able to get to work with further incidents, so you called Kara. Kara was softer and if you play your card right maybe she could be the buffer between Alex’s lecturing and you.  You dialed her number and put it on speaker while washing your hands, you were standing Infront of the sink mirror and put the phone down.

 Kara: “Hi sweet girl, what’s up?”

You were about to respond when you felt nausea hit hard, you saw your reflection become green and you ran to toilet once again. Just in time for you to continue emptying your stomach contents, tears sprung into your eyes as the pain in your stomach grew stronger and effort of being violently ill into the porcelain bowl.

On the other side of the line, Kara was listening to you suffering. “Y/N baby? What’s wrong, where are you?” but at not getting a response she ditched everything to fly straight home following your heartbeat.

You stopped vomiting and felt exhausted, you spit into the toilet and flush it.  You use toilet paper to clean you mouth and drop to the bathroom floor exhausted.  Kara enter the apartment looking for you.

Kara: “y/n?, oh my God what’s wrong baby?”- Kara panics at looking at your body sprawled in the bathroom floor all pale and clammy.

y/n: “Ughh best guess? stomach bug. I just puked my guts out, and before that I emptied my bowels in a different way” - you grimace at the explosive diarrhea you went through less than half an hour ago.

Kara: “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry you feel so poorly. Come on, let me pick you up from the floor”- the blonde woman tries to pick you up, but you feel like you’re not quite over.

Y/n: “Kara, I don’t think I can move quite yet and the floor is cold, it feels nice” –you move a little on the floor to get more of the chilly sensation on your hot skin- “I feel like crap sissy” a tear runs down your cheek and you look up to your sister. Kara brushes the tear away and cradles the side of your face. You are about to move again into a sitting position when you feel your stomach painfully cramp again and you roll into a fetal position trying to make the pain lessen somehow.

Kara: “Oh baby, looks like a horrible stomach bug. But I’m so bad at human illnesses let me call Alex really quick, she is the best when it comes to this kind of things.” Kara looks desperate and seeing you so sick on the floor. Kara is now sitting next to you holding your head in her lap and running her fingers through your hair.

Y/N: “You can’t, busy. Summit in New York” – you mumble trough clenching teeth.

Kara: “I know she is busy with work, but she can take a phone call if it’s an emergency. Its her or the ER. Your call.”

y/n: “Alex…” – you much prefer hearing your helicopter sister ask a thousand question that being prod and wait in the Emergency Room.

Kara takes her phone out of her pocket and dials the number; it rings a few times and then it connects.

Alex: “Hey what’s up, everything okay?”- the red head asks immediately, knowing her sisters wouldn’t be calling her if it was not an emergency.

Kara: “No, y/n is sick. I just found her on the bathroom floor all clammy and she told me she vomited a lot. Also, she thinks it’s a stomach bug.” You can´t hear what Alex says on the phone, then Kara turns the phone on speaker “Ok hold on, yes. Ok ok now you’re on speaker now”

Alex: “Hi little one. I’m so sorry you got sick baby and I bet you feel awful but I need to ask you a few things ok?”

You nod, even though Alex cant see you, but you think if you can let her think it’s a stomach bug going around the office you’ll be off the hook and avoid the speech on getting food from street vendors.

Y/n: “Yeah ok…”- you feel to tire so yes, you can answer whatever she wants as longs she doesn’t ask you to move.

Alex: “Ok sweetie, Kara mentioned vomiting, what else are you feeling? Do you also have diarrhea? is she warm or cold Kara?

Y/N: “painful cramps, diarrhea definitely that was first and the puked my guts out. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything left inside my intestines by this point. It was super gross Alex. I feel a little cold now. There’s a bug going on around the office and some of the guys got sick”- you say the last part a bit fast and avoid looking at Kara, then you groan in pain at another cramp.

Kara: “She is all clammy, her cheeks are flush, and she is shivering a little. Also, she is now avoiding direct eye contact…” – Kara raises an eyebrow at you, knowing there’s something you are avoiding.

Alex: – “y/n baby, was your stool a little bloody and watery? Or soft and muddy? , also Kara can you check her abdomen does it look a little swollen and prod very gently please “

y/n: “first one”- You can hear Alex give a long sigh

Kara: “definitely swollen and a bit tender”

Alex: “What did you eat yesterday either at lunch or dinner? And don’t even think about lying to me y/n. I will know if you are lying. That’s not just a stomach bug”

Kara is looking down at you worry on her face, “We ate steak and mashed potatoes with some veggies last night. Lena cooked. and I know I can’t get sick, but Lena was okay. So, what did you eat for lunch baby?”

Y/n: “a cheeseburger” –you mumble

Alex: “Where?”

y/n: “A new place near the building, a few of the guys I work with we got burgers yesterday”

Alex: “when you say ´new place, you mean a well stablished franchise or restaurant? Not a street vendor with doubtful hygiene and suspicious meat or produce, right? -  ughh busted, you thought.

y/n: “Street vendor” – you lamented

Kara: “ohh sweetie. You know better than that”- Kara kept her gentle touch but looking a bit disappointed in you.

Alex: “Well baby, I hope the burger was so amazing and worth it, because what you have is food poisoning and most likely due to contaminated ground beef with E. coli. There is nothing to stop it or make it better faster. Your body will get rid of the bacteria during the following days. Simply needs to run its course.”

Y/N: “No cheeseburger in world is worth this pain or disgusting vomiting or explosive diarrhea. I feel like crap Lexie”- you play your Lexi card, so your big sister takes pity on you. You feel bad enough as it is, you don’t need to hear more disappointment from her.

Alex: “I know baby girl. Its quite uncomfortable and painful. You need rest and avoid over exerting, that will only make your stomach feel worse. Kara, I need you to make sure she drinks lots of fluids, she will keep vomiting and having constant bowel movements in the next couple of days and she can get dehydrated very quickly. Lots of water and Pedialyte . Let her stomach to settle first .  Avoid giving her any solid foods until she is no longer nauseous or vomiting as much. Avoid juices or other beverages with a lot of sugar or sweeteners that can make diarrhea worse. Let’s wait for 24 hours like this without any food and after that we can see if you can ease her back into eating soft and bland food. Call me if she gets worse or if the fever is too high.”

Y/N: “not even hungry anyways…”

Kara: “will do Alex, I’m taking off work for the week I’ll let Lena know. She is out of town as well, but I can handle goober just fine. right kiddo?”

You just try to crawl into Kara’s lap you starting to feel cold and so very tired. “Yeah, I’m cold. You warm”

Alex: “She will sleep a lot, wake her up and make her drink water or fluids Kara, its very important. Make sure her temperature doesn’t go above 102 F. if she get above that range just make her take a bath in lukewarm water or use a cold compress. Let her eat ice chips, NO dairy, no caffeine, no sugar, or fatty food. If she does eat those, she will end up throwing up everything. If temperature goes above 103 take her immediately to the ER. It shouldn’t but keep an eye on that. Seriously Kara call me anytime ok?”  

Kara: “Will do Alex. Thanks, and I’ll call you later once y/n is more comfortable and asleep”

Alex: “Ok, feel better sweetie, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Be good for Kara and try to relax and let your body get rid of everything at its own pace. Don’t rush anything. I love you sweetheart. Love you Kara, bye”

Y/N “Bye, love you Lexie”

Kara: “Bye Alex, love you too” – the phone calls gets disconnected. Kara looks down at you. “You think you are ready to move from the bathroom floor to the living room?”

y/n: “can you help me up to rinse my mouth? It tastes like crap ugh”

Kara: “of course. Up we go”- Kara gently stands up with you in her arms and helps you to your feet.

But you get dizzy and grab ahold of Kara’s arms for support

Kara: “hey hey I got you, easy there baby girl”

y/n: “everything its spinning and I don’t feel so g…” but before you can finish the sentence your eyes go wide and Kara see what’s about to happen and helps you to your knees in front of the toilet once again. Kara holds your hair away from your face with her other hand rubbing soothing circles down your spine while providing word of comfort.

You keep vomiting for a few minutes more “ughh I thought I had ridden of everything by now. This Is so disgusting” a few tears leak down your cheeks and Kara just helps you to your feet again and flushes the toilet.

Kara: “I know sweet girl, but Alex did say you will be experiencing vomiting and other stuff for a few days. So, let’s get you rinse your mouth and settle down in the couch so you can sleep this off, okay?”

You just nod and work on getting your teeth brushed and get rid of the nasty taste. Kara helps you to your room to change into your pajamas.

Kara: “Bed or couch?” -you just point down to your bed giving her your answer. “Okay okay” Kara lowers you on your bed and goes to close the curtains so you can rest more comfortably.

y/n: “Hold me?”- you pout pitifully

Kara: “of course baby girl. Let me just get your water and text Lena to let her know I won’t be into work for a few days and also text your boss you’re sick” – I’ll be right back.

y/n:” don’t want water please just hold me, I’m cold sissy”- more tears run down your cheeks, you just want your sister to hold you now.

Kara: “aww chucks, baby you feel real awful don’t ya? Ok here I’ll call later, and you need to drink water in an hour or two. I will wake you up. come here sweet bean”- Kara moves you so you are now lying basically on top of her, you hide your face into her neck and wrap your arms around her. You are leaching on her warmth shamelessly. Kara doesn’t mind at all begins to pat down your back softly like when you were little she needed to calm you down and put to to sleep.

Kara: “Aww my little koala is here. You’re so cuddly baby. I’m sorry you are feeling so poorly but I’ll be here with you all the time. You just close your eyes and go to sleep. You’ll feel better in no time, you’ll see”

y/n: “I’m never eating cheeseburgers again”- you give a yawn and began to drift off. Kara juts chuckles and starts to hum softly a lullaby song she uses since you were a little girl and where having trouble falling asleep or felt sick. You are out in less than 5 minutes.

Kara wait for you to be completely asleep to grab her cellphone she still has on her pocket. Texts Lena you are sick and will call her later, but you are okay just miserable for eating street food. And then sends a quick text to y/n boss, thank Rao she is close friends with y/n otherwise would be a pain to explain why she is texting instead of her employee.

Kara puts the cellphone down on the nightstand and holds y/n more to her chest and begins to run her hand up and down y/n spine and watches her sleep for a little while until herself starts to feel sleepy and decides to take a nap too.

Kara is awaken by your moving around and painful moaning. You curl into yourself as much as you can, trying to wave through the painful cramp in your tummy.

y/n: “It really hurts Kara, it hurts so bad”- you say through clenching teeth and tears sprung into your eyes once again. You feel miserable and in so much pain.  

Kara feels you are getting a bit hotter now and you are sweating too. “Okay little one, I think a bath can help you now, and you need to drink a little bit of water. Come here”

y/n: “No. pelease, no Kara. I just want the pain to stop and sleep again. I don’t want a bath” -you cry softly into her neck

Kara: “I’m sorry baby, but you feel too warm and you will feel better after the bath. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Kara picks you up from the bed and takes into the bathroom, she sits you down at the toilet seat while she runs a lukewarm bath for you.

Y/n: “Kara I don’t feel so good…” again you turn green and Kara helps you to sit infront the porcelain bowl once more.

You throw up again, but its mostly bile. Kara holds your hair out of your face while making comforting rubs on your lower back while you continue to be sick. your stomach its already empty from all the previous vomiting and you didn’t really eat anything for breakfast. You feel so weak after the effort it took to vomit once again. You are sweaty and pale and slump into Kara. Kara gently runs a hand down your spine and grabs a small towel to clean off the bile in your lips.

Kara: “sshh …baby come one. Its over now.  Here use this mouth wash to rinse and spit it in the toilet” -Kara then flushes the toilet and strips you off your clothes. She also strips down to her underwear and gets into the tub with you.  She helps you lean into her so she can wash your skin with a soft washcloth and pour the lukewarm water down your body to cool you down. After a while she notices your feel cooler to the touch. Washes your hair gently and lets you lean back onto her. You have always loved the skin to skin contact when feeling sick or unwell. Your sisters have done this many times over the years as well as you mom Eliza. You like feeling their warm skin and listen to their heartbeat. But Kara posses a special feature, she is warmer than any human. You feel her skin on you help you with the chills and you feel yourself drifting off to sleep again.

Kara notices you are almost asleep, and decides you are cool enough now and gently nudges you awake.

Kara: “sweet girl please don’t fall asleep quite yet. Let me dry you off a bit and you need to drink a little bit of water. Then you can sleep again promise”

You grunt in disapproval “Nuh uh … don’t wanna, I just want sleep”

Kara: “ I know sweetie but its not an option, come one”- Kara immediately stands and grabs ahold of you and takes one of the bath robes and uses one on her and then she uses a big fluffy towel to pat you down enough to remove the water excess but leaving your skin a bit damp to help keeping you cool.

She takes you back to your room and sets you on top of the bed and quickly grabs a set of lose shorts and tank top to avoid overheating you.  She then sits you with you back on a pillow resting against the headboard while she speeds to the kitchen to get you ice water.

Kara: “Okay sweetie small sips, just a few smalls sips and that’s it.”- she makes you drink a bit of water and leaves the glass on the nightstand again. You notice she is now wearing a pajamas too and in the nightstand there’s also a bowl with water and a few small towels and an empty plastic bow- “Just in case you feel sick and need to vomit again and avoid a trip to the bathroom”

Y/N:” thank you sissy”- you tear up and your chin trembles.

Kara: “No no don’t cry baby girl. Come here”- she gently lifts you up sits down and then lays you on her side you head resting on her collarbone. She left her soft button- up pajama top mostly open so you can lean into her and feel her skin near the collarbone and upper chest. You settle down and keep listening to her heartbeat.

Kara: “sshh sshh…sweetie just close your eyes and sleep. You’ll feel better soon just sleep now” – once again you feel her gentle touch on your back, down your arms and temple. And that soft voice humming the melody you associate with comfort. you move a little trying to find the perfect spot and just like that in less than 10 minutes you’re asleep.

#supergirl #alex x baby danvers #baby danvers #baby!danvers #alex danvers #baby danvers x kara #baby danvers imagine #b!d #sickfic #i feel sick #vomit warning #food poisoning #caretaker #skin to skin

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

In Your World (Randall Boggs x Reader)

Tagging @creeperchild​ because I know how much they love Randall. <3. Same AU series as ‘Where Did You Come From?’ and ‘Fear Factor’. 

You landed with a thud onto a hard floor and let out a yell of pain.

“Shit!” you hissed. Your shoulder was throbbing a little from the fall. Sitting up, you rubbed your arm and looked up. In front of you, was the most bizarre image you'd ever seen. You were sitting in a large room like a factory floor of some sort but you were looking into your neighbour's daughter's room. Like some sort of weird portrait.

How was this possible?

Something weird and fluffy fell on your shoulder, making you flinch and recoil. Looking up, you saw a...creature?...and standing over you. He was covered from head to toe in pink fur with two horns growing from his head. He had a long tail that ended with spikes at the end.

He smiled at you. “Hi. Welcome to Monsters Inc.” he said.

You stared at him and then looked round. There were dozens of creatures around you, all shapes and sizes and colours. Some of them were watching you apprehensively whilst others were curious.

Wait...Monsters Inc.? Didn't Randall say he worked there? Um, here?

You wanted to curl in on yourself. Or maybe it was a dream. That's it, it was a dream. You were still in bed with Randall right beside you, both huddled under your thick duvet. Or maybe the floor would swallow you up and—

—that's when you heard it the whispers.

“Is that a human?”

“An adult by the look of it.”

“Do you think we should near it—?”

“Are you crazy? We'll be dead in minutes! Or thoroughly contaminated!”

“Well, Horace touched her and he looks fine.”

“Yeah for now!”

“Maybe adults are different. Kids maybe, but adults—.”

“Don't be an idiot. Sullivan and Wazowski told us humans aren't contagious.”

“Are you all right, miss?”

You looked up at the fluffy monster, you assumed to be Horace. He was still smiling at you.

“Where am I?” you asked.

“Monstropolis. I think you've accidentally entered our world.” His face suddenly changed into one of concern. “You're looking a little peaky. Maybe the shock of ending up somewhere new.” He turned around and looked towards a weird looking creature that that had many eyes.

“Hey, Waxford! Go tell the big bosses. They'll have to know about this.”

Waxford nodded, making all of his eyes bob and scuttled off out of the room. Horace helped you up and guided you over to one of the desks. You sat down, keeping a wary eye between the monsters around you and the door that led back to your world.

Randall, where are you?

“Here ya go, sweets.” said a new voice.

You looked up to find a thin, pink creature with one of eye and snakes for hair. She hovered near you, holding out a mug of what looked to be tea

“Thank you.” you replied, taking the mug of hot tea into your hands.

“Gotta say.” said Horace, standing beside the female monster. “You're the first adult human I've never seen.”

You didn't know how to respond. You weren't too sure how you would. You just sipped on your tea, wincing a little over how sweet it was.

Suddenly, there was a short piercing alarm and the whole factory floor went dark. You watched as inside of your neighbour's child's bedroom disappeared showing the back wall of the room.

You sprang to your feet and hurried to the door. You took hold of the handle, closed the door and opened it.

Nothing. No inside of a bedroom or a closet full of clothes. No way of getting back. Of getting back to Randall.

“Shit!” you snapped, kicking the door grip and immediately regretting it.

“What's going on?” called Horace.

“Power's gone out.” called a voice.

“Damn it.”

“Um, Horace?”

Everyone looked round saw Waxford hurrying back over.

“Sullivan and Wazowski want to see the human in the office.”

“I'll take her.” said the female. “C'mon, sweetie. You'll get to meet the big boys. Gent, leave that door here. And let us know when that light comes back on.”

Looking up at the weird door mechanism where the red light had once been on, you felt your heart break. Randall was bound to notice that you were gone for longer than you'd imagined and would get upset.

Reluctantly, you followed two monsters out of the factory floor as monsters hurried to and fro, trying to fix whatever the situation was.

I'm Celia, by the way.” the female monsters said as you both followed Horace through the halls. “And what's yours?”

“Um, (Y/N).”

“Well, nice to meet you.” smiled Celia. “And don't worry. You're not the only human who had entered our world.”

“Really?” you asked, innocently. You remembered how much Randall had told you about his world and what had happened for him to end up in your world. You didn't want to give yourself away yet. You could not find yourself digging yourself deeper into this rabbit hole.

“Oh, yes. Mind you it was a little different back then. But we've come a long way since then.” 

“In what way?”

“Well, instead of using children's screams for energy, we just use their laughter. My fiancée found that out with his friend when a child came into our world.”

As you walked along the corridors and up the stairs, you saw some of the monsters looking at you and backing away slightly. You guessed some of them were still not used to the fact that humans weren't 'contagious'. You remembered proving Randall wrong when you had dragged him from your balcony to your couch when you first met him.

God, was he okay? Would there be another way of him to get back to you? Or you to him?

You hoped to whoever that the power would come back on and you would get home and back to Randall before it was too late.

                                               ***************

Soon enough, you arrived at the office where Celia was immediately swept up into the arms of a small Cyclops creature with green skin. Behind a desk sat a large furry beast, larger than Horace but this one had blue fur with purple spots.

“Googly bear, um! Mike, Sully, this is (Y/N). From the human world.”

“Hi!” greeted the big blue monster who you guessed to be Sully.

“Hi!”

“Sorry about the power. Fingers thinks it may have been a wire trip of some kind. They'll fix it soon.”

“You.” said the giant eyeball you guessed was Mike. “Look very relaxed for someone who had just seen a bunch of monsters.”

“I've seen bigger and badder believe you me. You'd be surprised.”

“Wow.” Sully breathed.

“Listen, I don't mean to sound rude but how long is this going to take. I need to get back home.”

“I understand, (Y/N). You have someone at home, you care for, don't you?”

You nodded. “I need to get home or he'll worry about me. All I was doing was checking up on my neighbour's apartment, making sure everything was okay for her and her daughter and...I came here. It's all been a misunderstanding and a complete accident.”

“It's all right.” Sully comforted. “It'll be all okay. I know what's it like. We've all been there.”

You gave Sully a sort a reassuring smile.

“Who was your monster?” Mike piped up.

You stared at him, wide eyed. “What?”

“Who was your monster growing up?”

“I...I don't remember. ”you said. Your heart began to slow down from racing so much. You almost thought Mike had figured out somehow about Randall.

Suddenly, there was a flickering of lights and...

“Power's back on.” Horace smiled. “That's good. Quicker than I though.”

“Thank goodness.” you muttered “Well, this was fun. But I need to get home.”

“Right, let's get you down to the Scare Floor.” Sully said, rubbing his paws together. 

“Great.” you said.

Leaving the office, you headed out with Horace beside you and Sully, Mike and Celia behind you.

“Is there any need for the bodyguard sch-tick?”

“We just need to make sure that nothing else goes wrong.” Sully reassured.

You sighed, getting really irritated.

Your thoughts were interrupted as a small monster with large sharp teeth, hurrying over to you.

“Mr. Sullivan! Mr. Sullivan!”

“What is it?”

“We need to call the authorities.” the monsters panted.

“What the heck is going on?”

“It's Randall Boggs. Somehow, he's come back.”

You felt like your stomach had dropped out of you. Like the air had just escaped from your lungs. Your mind just lost itself of all thought and common sense because you blurted out! “Where is he?”

You could feel all eyes on you at this, but you really didn't care.

“Where is he?” you pressed, making the monster quiver.

“By the Scare Floor—.” he started and just as those four words left his mouth, you bolted down the corridors and down the stairs. The others called after you but you couldn't care less about them. You needed to get back to Randall and let him know you were okay.

Jumping the last two steps and dodging the monsters huddling in the hallway, you sprinted down to the Scare Floor.

There!

At the opening, two or three monsters had Randall in some kind of lock and Randall was struggling against them.

“RANDALL!” you screamed as you ran towards him.

The chameleon like monster froze and looked over at you, running.

“(Y/N)!” he sprang out from the hold and slithered over to you. Meeting you in the middle, he scooped you into his arms whilst his others paws softly slipped into your hair.

“Randall, thank fuck.” you gasped. “How did you know I was here?”

“I had a hunch.” he whispered. “Shit, (Y/N), you had me worried.”

“Sorry, baby.” you rumbled. “I didn't think I'd end  up here.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, drawing back a little to look you in the eyes.

“A little shaken. But I'm better for seeing you. Now, we can go home.”

His eyes flickered away from you to what was behind you. “I doubt that for a little while.”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked round to see a whole throng of monsters surrounding you and Randall. Sully and Mike moved to the front, both of them did not look pleased to see their ex-colleague.

You stepped in front of Randall, looking defiantly at them.

“(Y/N), step away from him.” Sully warned. “He's a criminal.”

“No. Not in my world, he isn't.” you spat. “So, we can go. You promised me that.” 

“And you didn't tell us that you were harbouring a criminal.”

“Let us go home, now.”

“Call the authorities, Celia—.”

“No.” barked Sully.” Don't.”

“Sully, what are you—?”

“We did promised to bring you back home to the one you care for. And since Randall is the one you 'care' for. So, go home and live your life happily with him.”  

“I will.” you said, taking hold of Randall's scaly paw. You pulled your lizard boyfriend over to the factory floor where the right door was still waiting, the red light blaring.

Without a glance back to your monsters audience, you re-entered the human world.

                                                      *************

A week later...

You were lying in bed snuggling under the thin blankets when you heard a knock on your door.

“Mmm.” you grunted, stirring a little from your sleep. The knock came again. Becoming more awake, you sat up in bed and noticed Randall standing at your closet door, he was holding something and looking bewildered.

“Randall? What's wrong?”

He turned to look at you. In one of his palms, he held a letter.

“What's going on, hun?”

Randall still didn't reply. He looked terrified. His gaze fell on the letter in his hand. 

“Randall, you're scaring me. What's going on?”

Still Randall didn't reply. Instead, he opened the envelope and took out the letter inside. His large green eyes scanned the letter, the look of terror and changing into one of surprise and then relief.

“Randall?”

The lizard like creature moved over to the bed and settled down in front of you. He handed you the letter.

Taking it, you cast your gaze on the words before you.

                                      Monstropolis Supreme Court

                                 Subject of Letter: A Case of Pardon.

You looked up at Randall who was still in a case of shock.

After reading the letter, you looked back at him, a smile creeping up on your face. 

And you jumped on him! Squealing in happiness!

“Oh, Randall.” you cooed. “I'm so happy for you.”

“Yeah. I can't believe it.” he said, snuggling into you.

“Hey...ya hear that?”

He smiled up at you. “Sure do.”

…

...

“The winds of change.” 

#Monsters Inc. #monsters inc #Monsters University #Pixar Monsters Inc. #randall boggs #randall boggs x reader #randall boggs imagine #Steve Buscemi #steve buscemi x reader #steve buscemi imagine

[losingmymindtonight]

Whumptober: Unconscious

AN: Whumptober is just me seeing how quickly I can write something. It’s not quality, nor is it quantity, but it sure is fic. That’s about all I’ve got in me.

--

The alert went off just after 3:00 am.

Which was, as a general rule, not one of Tony’s favorite times to get alerts.

“Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled him from his hyperfocus on the exposed circuitry in front of him, “I have detected strange anomalies in Peter Parker’s vitals.”

He looked up in surprise. “What time is it?”

“3:03 am.”

He blinked. “And why the fuck is the kid in the suit at 3:00 am? It’s a school night. His curfew is 11:00.”

“Mister Parker is not in the suit. My readings are coming from the biotech in his watch.”

Okay. That… that wasn’t exactly ideal.

“What are the anomalies?”

“Mister Parker’s heart rate is unusually elevated and his blood oxygen levels appear to be rapidly decreasing.”

Did the kid go on patrol without his suit? Tony was going to kill him. “Where is he?”

“In his bed.”

Wait, what?

“Are you… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck? F.R.I.D.A.Y., track his phone.”

There was a pause as the AI completed the request. Then,

“It appears to be on the table beside his bed, Boss.”

“Call him. Now.”

“Of course.”

The sound of the phone ringing filled the lab. Tony pushed away his project. He had more important things to worry about now.

The phone kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. Peter Parker is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you finish recording you may hang up, or press 1 for more-

“Push the call through, FRI.”

“Yes, Boss.”

There was a brief rush of static, and then quiet.

If he listened really, really hard, he could just barely make out the sound of someone breathing.

“Peter?” The kid must be asleep (or unconscious), because there wasn’t any answer. He tried again, louder. “Peter!”

He heard the rustle of sheets, then a huff of confusion.

“Mis’er St’rk?”

“Thank god, you’re alive. You had me wondering there for a minute.”

“Huh? Where’re you?”

He blinked. “Try your phone, bud.”

“Wha’? Why’re you in my ph’ne?”

No, no, no, no, no. The spark of concern that had settled at the sound of the kid’s voice lit right back up, bright and sharp. This was a serious step above you-just-woke-me-up-and-I’m-still-half-asleep confusion. This was… that was something much, much worse.

“I-I’m not. I called you, Pete.”

“Called me?”

“Mhm. Are you alright? F.R.I.D.A.Y. says your vitals went wonky and you seem… a little out of it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I don’ feel good.”

He sat up straighter on the bench, hands clenching with fear. He’d known something was wrong before, but hearing the kid admit it only gave purchase to the panic. “What do you mean?”

“Feel weird.”

“Define weird.”

“Dunno. Head hurts. Feel sick.”

Tony blinked. “FRI? Does he have a fever?”

“No, Boss. Although Mister Parker’s O2 levels are dropping low enough to be an imminent concern.”

He leapt to his feet. A little early morning trip to Queens wouldn’t kill him. Who needed sleep, anyway? “Pete? I’m coming over, okay? Can you get up and wake May?”

“Not here.”

“May isn’t there?”

“No. Graveyard shift.”

“Okay. Okay. That’s alright. I’m gonna come take care of you. Just keep talking to me.” The suit folded around him and F.R.I.D.A.Y. flipped the call to his heads up display without being prompted. “Do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?”

“Mhm.”

“If you need to, just do it. I’ll clean it up later.”

“M’kay.”

“Good boy.” He rushed out onto the roof and shot into the air. He was so hasty in his takeoff that he had to quickly correct his trajectory with his thrusters, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Did you feel sick before you went to sleep?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright.” He muted himself and finally let the panic seep through his voice. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.? What the fuck is wrong with him? Is it the flu?”

“The flu does not usually involve such a rapid drop in oxygen levels.”

“Then what’s wrong with him?”

“My sources indicate-”

“Those sources better not be WebMD.”

“They are not.” If Tony didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded offended. “As I was saying: my sources indicate that Mister Parker is likely suffering from a drug allergy. However, it is also possible that the symptoms are the precursor to an epileptic episode or a brain hemorrhage.”

“Why the fuck would he have a brain hemorrhage?”

“Considering Mister Parker’s age, state of health, and activity level, the most likely cause would be trauma. Until I can run a more in-depth scan, your best course of action would be to continue assessing his mental status.”

He switched his audio back on, nodding as if F.R.I.D.A.Y. needed his confirmation. “Hey, buddy. You still with me?”

“Mhm.”

“Good job. Hey, I have some questions to ask you, and it’s really important that you answer them honestly. I swear I won’t get mad.”

“M’kay.”

“Did you go on patrol earlier? Without the suit?”

“No.”

“Do you promise?”

“Mhm.”

“So no injuries I should know about?”

“No.”

“Did you take medicine before you went to sleep? Ibuprofen? Anything?”

“No.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright. Have you ever had a seizure, Pete?”

“Wha’?” That question seemed to wake the kid up a bit. “No. Why?”

“I’m just checking. How do you feel?”

Peter seemed to contemplate that for a second.

“‘M... ‘M really tired, Mis’er Stark.”

“No. Nope. Stay awake, okay? I don’t know what's wrong with you yet.”

“Somethin’s wrong wi’ me?”

This is wrong. This is so, so wrong. “Yeah, buddy. You told me you didn’t feel good. Remember?”

“Mm. Oh, yeah. I really don’ feel good.”

“I know. I’m,” he glanced at the ETA F.R.I.D.A.Y. helpfully threw up on the screen, “I’m three minutes away from you. Hang on.”

“M’kay.”

There was something impossibly frightening about having something wrong with Peter and not knowing what. He’d had to get used to the idea of the kid getting hurt on patrol, rolling into the Tower clutching a bleeding wound or a broken bone. It was an uncomfortable truth, but one he’d learned to assimilate into his life.

But this… this was exponentially more frightening. This was something happening to Peter, not Spider-Man. He could sew up bullet wounds and cast broken bones. He couldn’t fix something he couldn’t even diagnose.

God, he hated being stuck in the dark.

“Can you tell me more about what’s wrong, kiddo?” Honestly, he didn’t really expect to learn anything useful. He was just trying to keep Peter as lucid as possible until he could get there. “What feels bad?”

“Head.”

“Your head hurts?”

“Mhm.”

He could see Peter’s apartment complex now. Every inch closer made his heart rate climb. “Anything else?”

“Dunno. ‘M just… tired.”

“Alright. Remember what I said, though, right? No sleeping.”

“No sleepin’.”

“That’s it. Good boy.” He landed on the fire escape outside Peter’s room with the discordant clatter of metal on metal. It was loud enough to be unwanted at 3:00 in the goddamn morning, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’m here, bud.”

“Took a long time.”

Don’t I know it, kid.

He ended up climbing through the window into Peter’s room. There was a part of him that nearly went into the main entrance and took the elevator to the apartment (May had given him a spare key, so he could’ve just let himself in), but the half-panicked ball of worry in his chest convinced him otherwise.

“Pete?”

The lump on the bed shifted. “Mis’er Stark?”

He rushed to the kid’s side, metal-clad knees knocking into wooden floors as he knelt beside the low-slung mattress. “Hey, squirt. Told you I was coming.”

Suddenly, an alert, red and flashing and impossible to ignore, exploded onto his heads up display.

WARNING: DANGEROUS LEVELS OF CARBON MONOXIDE DETECTED DO NOT REMOVE HELMET INITIALIZING OXYGEN RESERVES OXYGEN RESERVES INITIALIZED

He froze in realization. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Mister Parker’s symptoms match those of carbon monoxide poisoning, although it is notoriously difficult to diagnose without context. There is likely a leak somewhere in the building.”

“What do I-”

“It is advised to remove Mister Parker from the contaminated area and into fresh air as quickly as possible. I have notified emergency services. They should arrive within five minutes to assist the other residents.”

At some point during his hurried conversation with F.R.I.D.A.Y., Peter’s eyes had fallen shut. He didn’t move when Tony pressed his gauntlet against his shoulder. He shook him, first gently and then with more vigor, and the kid just stayed limp.

“Pete?” Nothing. Shit. “Alright. Don’t worry about it, kiddo, I’ve got it handled.” He tore Peter’s comforter away in a manner that definitely did not denote I’ve got it handled, but he supposed it didn’t really matter when Peter was unconscious. “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay? We’re going on a little trip.”

Peter offered no resistance when Tony scooped him up. And, fuck, the kid was heavy. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the kid was 5’8” of pure muscle.

Pure muscle that was now a complete deadweight.

Great.

He clambered onto the fire escape with a lot more grace than he’d really expected. Then again, he had the added motivation of not wanting to jostle the precious cargo cradled to his chestplate. As he went, he found himself babbling nonsensically to the kid.

“It’s all gonna be fine. I’m gonna take you back to the Tower and pump you full of oxygen. That’ll be nice, yeah? And I’ll call May, tell her that you can both bunk at the Tower until the leak gets solved. It’ll be great. You love sleepovers.”

Peter didn’t twitch during the flight back to the Tower, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t alert him to any worsening vitals, so he did his best to focus through it. He didn’t waste time taking the suit off when he landed on the roof, just headed straight for the MedBay.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” He called, skidding his way into one of the MedBay rooms. “What do I do? Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”

“He needs oxygen, Boss.”

He felt like screaming. “He’s getting oxygen.”

“Not enough.”

He deposited Peter onto the bed in a tangle of uncoordinated limbs. His lips were tinged with blue, just slightly, and the sight made Tony feel like he wasn’t getting enough oxygen himself.

“Sorry, sorry.” He winced in sympathy as the kid’s head lolled unnaturally against the plastic mattress. “I’ll make you comfy when you can breathe, kiddo, sorry…”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in before he could even process that he needed her help. “The oxygen tanks are located in the hallway supply closet, along with tubing and a mask.”

He jogged out the door and tore open the closet door. It only took him a few seconds to bundle everything he needed into his arms, but they felt like wasted moments all the same.

He’d helped set up a few oxygen tanks in the past, and it wasn’t necessarily difficult. Attaching the tubing was made slightly more complicated by the tremors running through his hands, but he pushed through it. 

“There ya go, buddy.” Relief rushed through him once the mask was snug over the kid’s face. “All better now. Or, at least, we’re on our way, yeah?”

The next few minutes dragged by. Tony resisted the urge to glue himself to the vital monitors. Instead, he forced himself to trust F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s judgement, and stuck right by Peter’s side, brushing his hair back and talking gently. He knew firsthand the adrenaline rush of waking up in a place different than the one you lost consciousness in, knew how terrifying and disorienting it was. He wanted Peter to have an anchor: something that he understood, even if he didn’t understand anything else.

“His oxygen stats are improving rapidly, Boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. offered after what felt like an eternity. “I estimate that he is likely to regain consciousness soon.”

Sure enough, Peter groaned a minute or two later, forehead wrinkling and he shifted weakly against the mattress. 

“Hey buddy,” he murmured, cupping Peter’s face and tilting his head so he’d be lined up perfectly in the kid’s vision when he opened his eyes. “C’mon. Look at me, yeah? Let me know you’re alive in there.”

Peter’s eyes snapped open. For a brief second, his entire body keyed up, muscles coiling, but then his gaze cleared and his pupils found the face hovering above him and Tony could see recognition shoot through his expression. He melted, then, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of his mouth.

“Morning,” Tony whispered. Peter just blinked up at him slowly, brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s alright. Just keep breathing, nice and slow.”

A sluggish hand fumbled up to the oxygen mask, but Tony caught it before he could pull it off. “Yeah, I know. Leave that be. It’s helping.”

“Patrol?” Peter slurred, and Tony had to strain to make out the word through the mask.

He shook his head. “Shh. Don’t worry about it right now, alright?”

To his surprise, Peter relented, eyes drifting closed again, any hint of lingering tension releasing from his expression. “M’kay.”

Tony let his head bow forward, shaky with relief. He felt like he’d spend the rest of his life chasing after Peter Parker, scooping him up and stitching him back together again.

“I’m really glad you’re alright, buddy,” he said, voice low and strained.

Peter didn’t answer, just turned his face sleepily into his palm, but Tony didn’t need to hear anything from the kid, anyway.

He knew.

#this has been sitting in my drafts for ages #and i slapped it together and wrote in the gaps and now it's for u #i was gonna write an entirely different concept #but i decided to save it for 'bleeding out' #not to be a massive downer in the tags but #i'm havin a rough time so please be patient with me while i get my feet underneath me again #thank ye #whumptober2019 #whumptober 2019 #whumptober day 10 #no. 10 #tw: carbon monoxide #is that a trigger? #idk but i'm tagging it #losingmymindtonight writes #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #tony & peter

[non-binary-nightmare]

Pills: Chapter 9

One more chapter left!

Chpt 1 Chpt 2 Chpt 3 Chpt 4 Chpt 5 Chpt 6 Chpt 7 Chpt 8 Chpt 10

Warnings: This chapter might make you cry.. And I don’t want to spoil it so warnings in the tags

Again... really sorry.. I’m so evil..

----

Patton ran after Deceit, knife in hand. Deceit managed to get in his room and lock himself in. “Let!...Me!...In!...” Patton banged his shoulder on the door, trying to break the door down.

Deceit looked around, trying to find a place to hide. “Deceit! You little bitch! OPEN THIS DOOR!” Patton yelled. Deceit hid under his bed. Patton continued trying to break the door and he managed to break the hinges.

“Oh so you tried to hide huh?!” Patton yelled. Deceit covered his mouth to keep from making any noise.

Patton slammed open Deceit’s closet door. “Where the hell are you?!” Patton said, searching the closet. “Come out, come out, wherever you are….” Patton said walking around the room, and looking in the bathroom. Patton walked out of the bathroom and stopped. He stared at the bed and smiled. “I guess, since you won’t come out on your own..” Patton said as he walked over to the bed. “I’LL JUST HAVE TO MAKE YOU!” Patton said as he bent down and grabbed Deceit out from under his bed. 

Patton struggled with Deceit and got on top of him. “Patton please! Don’t do this!” Deceit pleaded, trying to get Patton off of him. “We can figure things out! You don’t have to do this!”

“That’s where you’re wrong...” Patton said as he lifted the knife above his head. “I do.” Patton said as he brought the knife down and into Deceit’s chest, directly through his heart.

Patton smiled as he saw the life leave Deceit’s eyes. Patton slowly pulled the knife out of Deceit’s chest. “Dee..” Patton looked up and saw Logan standing in the doorway. Patton’s eyes grew as he stood up. “Logan- Logan it’s not-”

“Don’t tell me it’s not what it looks like, Patton! It’s exactly what it looks like!” Logan yelled, tears streaming down his face.

Patton sighed. “You’re right, Lo. But if you’d just let me explain!” Patton said, walking closer to Logan. “Explain?! You just killed someone I loved!” Logan said, backing away from Patton.

Patton grabbed Logan’s arm and pulled him into the room. “Look at me! I did this for YOU.” Patton said as he forced Logan to look at him. “He didn’t love you. He lies. He wanted to tear my family apart.” Patton said, looking at Deceit then back at Logan. “He was a threat.” Patton said as he let go of Logan. “A threat? Deceit did nothing to any of us! Maybe a few snarky remarks here and there, but so has Virgil. You gonna kill Virgil next? Huh? Or maybe even Remus because Lord knows you hate him too! Maybe you’ll even-”

“Shut up! I have a plan for everyone here. Even you!” Patton said, pointing the knife at Logan. “Patton, you can’t fix everyone. Nobody is perfect. Not even y-”

“Don’t you dare say it! I AM perfect. And I will make sure that nobody in my family messes up AGAIN!”

“Again?” Logan asked. “It was all fine until Romulus started doing weird things. He kept getting grosser and grosser. He used to be so innocent. He called me dad, he was so sweet to me. But as Thomas got older, he seemed to become…. Such a bad person.”

“Patton what are you talking about? Romulus is gone.”

“I had to do it Logan.  I had to seperate the good from the bad. He was contaminating Thomas’ mind.” Patton said, tears in his eyes, and voice getting raspy. “But it wasn’t my fault Logan! It wasn’t! I promise! I had to! He was ruining Thomas’ mind with all these thoughts! I had to make sure that Thomas knew they were bad. And I even tried to change Remus! To make him a better person!”

“You can’t change everyone, Patton. You have to remember that. But this doesn’t change the fact that you killed Deceit.”

“I-I know.. Logan will you ever forgive me?” Patton asked. Logan thought for a second. “Only-only if you promise to tell the others, comply with what we decide on, and give me the knife.” Logan said as he outstretched his hand. “No! They can’t know! They won’t believe me when I tell them that it’s not my fault!!”

“Patton, listen.”

“No! You listen to me! The others don’t have to know anything! We can run away to the imagination. And at this rate, if Thomas has one more anxiety attack, and takes another pill, then Virgil will stay a toddler. I can force another one on him! We can run away and take care of him together! Just you, me, and-”

“Patton! You can’t run away from your problems! What kind of person does that? I’ll tell you: a bad person.” Logan said. “I-I I’m not a bad person!” Patton yelled. “I know. That’s why you need to tell the others what you’ve done.”

“You have to tell them that it wasn’t my fault! That I was just protecting everyone!”

“I promise, I’ll tell them. Now give me the knife.” Logan demanded in a fake soft tone. Logan walked slowly towards Patton. “I- Okay.” Patton said, handing Logan the knife. “Thank you.” Logan said. Patton started crying. Logan pulled Patton into a hug. “It’ll be okay, Patton.”

 “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Logan said as he pushed the knife into Patton’s stomach. “Wha-” Patton said as Logan pulled the knife out and pushed him onto the ground. “How could you expect me to forgive you….after you killed Deceit!?” Logan said as he climbed on top of Patton. “No- please… don’t-”

“Do this? Was that what Deceit said as you stabbed directly into his heart? Huh? WAS IT!?” Logan yelled as he thrusted the knife directly into Patton’s heart. Logan placed his hands and head on the top of the knife. He took a deep breath and sat up. Logan got off of Patton and slowly, Patton’s influence on the imagination faded, leaving a white background, with two bodies on the ground.

Logan made the ground into grass and made it so Deceit was laying on a blanket.

“Logan!” Logan looked over at the voice. The owner of which was Roman.

“Remus I found them!”

Roman ran up to Logan and hugged him. Logan hugged back. “Are you okay?” Roman asked. “I believe so.” Logan said as he stared blankly with cold, emotionless, eyes.

“What happened to Deceit!?” Remus yelled, voice cracking. Roman let go of Logan and the reality of the situation set in. He gasped. Remus ran over to Deceit. “Patton- uhh.. Killed him. I’m sorry.” Logan said, his own voice cracking.

Remus held Deceit in his hands and began sobbing. “Dad! No- please.. This can’t-” Roman placed a comforting hand on Remus’ shoulder. “Rem..”

“NOOO!” Remus screamed as he stood up and ran over to Patton’s body. “YOU DID THIS TO HIM YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” He began kicking Patton’s body.

Roman ran over to him and pulled him off. “Remus he’s already dead!” Roman yelled. “HE FUCKING KILLED MY DAD! THAT BITCH! LET ME GO!” Remus yelled, struggling to get out of Roman’s grasp.

Roman forced Remus to look at him. “Snap out of it!”

Remus immediately began crying into Roman’s arms. “This can’t be happening! Oh no! Please God NO!” Roman quickly wrapped his arms around Remus and began comforting him.

“It’s okay. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Roman said, leading Remus away. “Logan?” Roman looked at Logan. A tear fell down Logan’s cheek. “Oh Logan it’ll be okay..” Roman comforted. “It’s just that- I never got to tell him…. how I really felt..” Logan said, starting to cry even more. “He died thinking I never even liked him..”

“Logan, you can’t change that. You can’t go back. I know it’ll be hard moving on. I’m sure you are going to blame yourself. But for right now, we need to just get out of here. Okay?”

“I-I know.. I just-” Logan sighed and wiped his tears. “I’m just tired. Is-is Virgil okay?”

“Yeah, he grew back up and was still really sick so I put him to bed. He’s out cold.” Roman said. “Okay..”

“I’m tired.” Remus said with a yawn. “How about I get the two of you in bed, check on Virgil, then go to bed myself? Then, we can talk to Thomas about all of this when we wake up. M’kay?” Roman said. Remus and Logan both nodded.

“Let’s go home.” Remus said. 

----

AGAIN.. REALLY HECKING SORRY

Taglist:

@misunderstoodshadowling @no-no-no-no-6 @grayson-22 @sanderssidesstuffs001 @nope-not-more @magimerlyn @fellinfire @chihuahuafaceappreciationblog @basiic-emo @crei-crei

#tw in the tags #character death #blood mentions #murder #gaslighting #manipulation #manipulative patton #unsympathetic patton #deceit sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #ask to be tagged //

[medeafive]

Blood and Stone - 15

Masterpost

(Not sure how to warn you about this but there is one scene at the beginning that's very much not pretty, though ultimately turning out fine. Also some brutal action.)

She's clean again, the wound on her head has stopped bleeding but it obviously still smells. She's pacing around the apartment restlessly. Maybe it's the adrenaline or the worry that James is mad at her, that she went too far, or- she just feels off. The nerves. Schmidt's going to want her dead now, as soon as he hears.

She's washing her face when she hears the balcony door, quickly dries it, grabs a pistol just to be safe. But it is James, in the living room, looking through the pile of bloody clothing. She leans in the doorway, crossing her legs. "James?"

He looks up, smirks, looks her up and down, only the black cloak tied around her neck and nothing else. "Oh Nat."

She smiles, even though she doesn't feel like it. "You weren't going to just leave, were you?"

"Sun's coming up," he reminds her.

"Stay." She walks over, taking his strangely warm hands. "Please."

He whirls her around and dips her, like in the old movies. "Sweetheart. If you insist."

She wants him to want her. More than she wants him. Oh, she's a wreck. Surges up to kiss him hungrily, grabbing onto his shoulders. Wants him to stay without asking, to grab her without prompting, to fuck her without waiting for permission. She's in a weird mood. He lowers her on the ground carefully, too slowly, breathing. "You do smell strange, though."

Maybe that's the needy feeling. "Good?"

"Awfully," he confirms, licking over her sternum. "Carnal. Not bloody, but… I don't know. You do know bad things happen to people who wear these things without permission, right?"

"Are you going to do bad things to me?" she asks. She doesn't sound like herself, neither the tone nor what she's saying. "Do you want to punish me?"

He breathes her in. "You smell- really, I don't know. How do you feel?"

"Answer my fucking question," she demands. "You pushover."

He growls, baring his fangs, yanking her towards him. "You're utterly helpless, dollface, so don't push it."

She's turned on and frustrated and swear to God. "Don't give me empty threats. You don't have it in you."

"Have what in me," he scoffs, claws digging slightly into her hips. "Don't make me do something you don't want."

She's served herself on a silver plate, naked in the black cloak, and he's hardly done anything about it. "You're too weak to take what you want anyway."

His nostrils are flaring and his eyes are not normal. "You can't stop me."

"But you won't," she hisses, planting her feet. "You won't even try. Because you're soft."

His fangs sink into her shoulder, painfully, she groans loudly, and then he slams into her without warning, she is awfully dry and it burns , hurts, worse than the shoulder, like turning a knife in- he's whispering scary stuff about how she's his and she suddenly doesn't recognize anything anymore, needs to make it stop right now, he impales her, jacks this impossible object up her vagina, she gets her feet against his shoulders and kicks, throws her head back and pleads with him to-

His face is above hers, still some of the crazy tinge in his eyes. "Is that part-"

"No," she whimpers. "Make it stop. Please. Stop."

She's curled into a ball, cradled, starts crying. It still hurts, even if he's not inside her anymore. Just a few seconds and- she has no idea what just happened, how she got into this mess. "Shit, doll," he mutters behind her. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry."

She's crying so she can't- she doesn't understand it either, what got into her. Something runs down her shoulder. Blood. She shudders. "Did you-"

"No poison," he tries to assure her. "I promise. I didn't want to- I thought you wanted it rough but I didn't want to hurt you, really. I'm sorry."

It's like a different world. She has a bite wound on her shoulder. "Could you- suck on my shoulder? In case there is any trace of poison?"

"Whatever you want," he replies, rolling her onto her back. "But I really didn't poison you. Would never… but I never wanted to hurt you either."

It's quiet when he licks over her wound and sucks on it. She feels a little calmer but will break back into tears at any hint. Somehow weirdly estranged from her body. "I'm- I'm okay."

"Are you?" he asks. "You were talking strangely. Smell strange, too."

She sighs, tear pricking at her eyes. "I don't know what- what got into me. Didn't feel like- like me."

"I should get you back to the tower," he says, wrapping her in the cloak. "So you can get some rest. It's going to be okay."

"The sun's coming up," she protests weakly as he helps her up.

"Let's see whether your tinker's stuff actually works," he says. "Where's your suit?"

"Bathroom." She chews on her lip. He is off to the bathroom and she keeps talking to herself. "That was- creepy. Scary. I don't know- I don't know. I just wanna get home."

"I'll get you home." He shakes the suit out. "It's still wet but it's not far. I'll get rid of Pierce's clothes later."

"I'll- I'll take them," she suggests quietly, taking her suit from him. "Blood samples and- yeah."

He pulls out the mask, goggles and hood from under his cloak. "I'll step outside and try it out. Be right back."

She breathes deeply, bracing herself on the table. She's hot and shaky and slightly sick. Probably the mix of exhaustion and adrenaline and maybe she overdid it on the vampire blood. Fucked up her hormones. She should just get home, get into bed and sleep. Let her body sort it out.

The door opens again. He looks scary with the mask and goggles and the hood hooked into it, not leaving a sliver uncovered. "Seems fine. Are you ready?"

His voice sounds weird through the mask. She zips up the cold wet suit and grabs the bloodied vampire clothes. "Let's get home."

He opens the balcony door. "Yeah. It's just one jump."

  The rest is fuzzy and she wakes up in her bed, ten hours later, still tired, alone. Sore, especially in her arms. Hungry. She shuffles into sweatpants and down the stairs, hearing voices from the kitchen. Stops for a moment, leaning against the wall. "Still can‘t believe she killed him," James' voice says. "All on her own. Just like that."

"Yeah, I know," Sam replies. "She's awesome. And scary. But, I mean, you taught her some of it at least."

"Some," James admits. "But-"

"Yeah?" Sam prompts.

"I think I love her."

"Oh yeah." Sam snorts softly. "Noticed."

Her stomach churns and she pads further down the stairs, rounding the corner into view. James sits up. "Hey."

"Hey," he replies. "Feel better?"

She rolls her head. "Some, yeah. Still exhausted. And really hungry."

"I'll make you eggs," Sam offers, slipping off his chair at the kitchen counter. "Sit down. You should take it slow for a while."

"Thanks." She sinks into his place, rubbing her eyes. "I think the vampire blood really fucked me up."

"It can be traumatic, fighting" Sam suggests carefully, pulling out a pan. "Even if you don't get hurt. Just the stress of it. Life or death."

"My head doesn't feel straight," she admits. "But it's alright. I'll get better."

Tony walks in, going straight for the vampire clothes on the table. "Oh wow. One of the magic cloaks."

James snorts. "Literally just a cloak."

"So it doesn't deflect bullets?" Tony questions, unfolding it, studying the fabric critically.

"It doesn't do shit," James replies. "Schmidt thinks it looks cool. Just a symbol."

"Power," Natasha mutters, drinking from Sam's glass.

"Sounds like a real bluffer, that Schmidt guy," Tony remarks, folding it up again. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised a nazi is into hierarchy and status symbols. The gold fangs, too?"

James sighs, touching one. "I guess. When they get knocked out, during a fight- which is very painful- they put gold in while they regrow so that the fang builds around. Also painful. It's supposed to make them a little stronger or something, but it's mostly show. Status."

"Really likes scare tactics, the guy," Sam remarks, cracking an egg.

"Oh, hey Nat," Tony interjects. "So you got him, huh? How'd that feel?"

"Exhausting," she replies, drinking from James' glass, too. "Scary. Confusing. I don't know, I just feel out of whack."

"It was a lot of vampire blood," Tony admits. "Maybe you should let Bruce have a look at it, once he gets up."

She has a bite wound on her shoulder that she can't explain. Would just get them unnecessarily concerned. "Thanks, but I'll just try to sleep it off for now."

"Fury's asleep, in case you were wondering," Sam adds, putting a glass of orange juice in front of her. "They'll congratulate you later. We just didn't know when you would wake up."

"That's alright," she mutters. "Can wait."

"What's that?" James asks as Sam spoons some powder into her juice.

"Protein powder," Sam explains, stirring. "With potassium, calcium, cholesterol. Thought she could use it."

"Thanks," she mutters.

"Pep will be down soon, too," Tony remarks, looking through the other clothes. "Oh, nice. Blood samples."

"Uh, my DNA is all over it, for obvious reasons," she remarks. "And I drove a wooden stake through his heart, so that might contaminate it as well."

"Are you going to stay for dinner?" Sam asks.

James looks surprised. "I don't really- eat."

"Yeah, I know," Sam replies. "Just hang around, if you want."

  She almost falls asleep during dinner. James sits down on her bedside, caressing her cheek. "Sure you're going to be okay?"

"Just tired," she mutters, closing her eyes. "It- it wasn't your fault. Or my fault. I really didn't feel like myself."

"It was scary," he admits. "You know exactly where my pressure points are, don't you."

"Hm?" she makes, not opening her eyes.

"You sounded- kinda like Schmidt," he explains. "When he makes us fight. When being weak and soft and not tough and brutal enough gets you killed. That sorta thing- it gets into my head, you know."

"Wasn't intentional," she mutters. "It was scary for me, too."

He breathes out. "Otherwise, I never would have- your strangely alluring smell, too. I really thought that's what you wanted."

"I thought so, too," she whispers. "Maybe some- hormonal or gynaecological issue, and all the vampire blood- I don't know what happened."

"I should let you sleep," he says. "They'll look after you? I'd rather not risk being seen around the tower but you can always text me if you need anything."

"I'll be okay," she sighs. "Uh, do I still smell? Alluring?"

"Yeah." He pulls the blanket up to her neck. "A little less. But I can handle that, don't worry. The smell and if you talk like that, that's close to the edge, though."

"Won't," she mutters. "Mhm. Good night."

She doesn't even hear him leave the room anymore.

  "You really eat a lot," Clint observes.

Sharon snorts. "Oh yeah. You kill a black cloak, let's see how hungry you are afterwards."

"Just observing," Clint retreats. "If she is hungry, she should eat. Just seems it really drained her, is all."

"I feel better already," Natasha remarks between bites. "Hungry like a wolf, though."

"We should plan our next step," Fury interrupts, empathetic and caring as always. "The hunting party. Without Romanoff, if she's not back on the wagon soon. We don't have forever."

"Little over two weeks," Sam agrees. "And honestly, Nat deserves it to sit this one out."

"I'll be fine in a day or two," she promises. "Or three. Don't worry."

"Don't put so much pressure on yourself," Pepper suggests. "We'll be fine, you can really take a break. Be back when it really matters."

"My estimate is that we need about six to eight litres of vampire blood," Bruce states. "More than a human has. It could be more, though. So it would be good if you could get at least two uncontaminated vampires, optimally all three."

"It clearly has side effects, though," Clint remarks. "Looking at Tasha. And that's only going to get worse if you give him eight full litres."

"It's not permanent," Natasha counters. "I'll be alright, really."

"I'd like to take a closer look at that, but I agree, it doesn't seem to be permanent," Bruce confirms. "And I mean, he's been frozen forever. It's definitely an improvement if he wakes up, even if it has side effects."

"So your hippocratic oath is okay with that?" Tony questions.

Bruce nods. "Definitely. It's the only way."

"Well, Clint and Sharon staked out their hideout pretty well," Sam remarks. "We need to strike by night, otherwise the sun will burn their blood before we get them to the tower. I suggest just after sunset, so they're only just waking up. Surround them, all exits, break in at the same time from all sides."

"No weapons," Sharon adds. "Nothing silver. Maybe batons."

"Did Bobbi leave hers?" Pepper asks.

Fury snorts. "She would've never left her batons. But we have some."

"Any blunt weapon will do," Natasha remarks. "Just beat them. Full force. Break their bones until they can't move."

"The vampire slayer has spoken," Tony comments. "Honestly, if I were your friend, I'd be really really scared."

"Are you kidding," Sam replies. "I'm already scared of her as it is."

  She eats a lot and sleeps a lot and gradually feels better. Not fully on it but good enough for a fight. Sam's nutritional supplements seem to help as well. The others have been training the last few days, all in good shape. Seems like they're really doing this.

They crowd around the basement in the evening when everyone else is rushing home behind locked doors. She's on the South side, together with Sharon. Sam and Clint in the West, Pepper and Tony in the East, no exit on the Northern side. "Are you sure you can do this?" Sharon asks.

Natasha breathes deeply, clutching the batons. "Yeah. Absolutely."

"Is it true that you used to have a sword?" Sharon asks with amusement.

"Fury promised to get me a new one," Natasha replies with a smile. "I'm completely out of practice, though."

"I'd love to see that," Sharon remarks. "You know, at the dinner, your friend… he really seemed familiar. I still couldn't find him in the database, though. Are you sure he's American?"

"I mean, he never said-" Natasha pauses. "I don't know. Maybe the database doesn't go that far back. Or he was just never active in America."

"Yes," Sharon concedes. "Maybe."

The comm crackles. "Sun's down. Move in in 40."

"Copy that," Sharon replies. "Ready?"

"Won't get much readier," Natasha returns.

They stalk towards the Southern entrance to the basement, the tilted wooden hatch, keeping their breathing down. Steps around the building. "Five."

Natasha looks to Sharon who nods. Just a little moment and- slamming wood, Sharon kicks down the hatch, dropping down herself, Natasha following her- it's dark and quiet, mouldy smell. Flashlight on, darting across the cellar walls. Smells of old blood, somewhat rotten. Old broken furniture around. Fangs-

Sharon ducks down just right and the vampire flies over her, crashing into Natasha, hard stone floor, teeth trying to break through to her arm, she tries to kick and knock him off but he's got her pinned down, fangs forcing through the suit-

Sharon yanks him off, gets in a hit with the baton before she has to dodge, he throws her over and she kicks his legs out, Natasha grabs his head but he's up too quick, knocking her back, he's fast enough to block both hers and Sharon's blows, Sharon goes for the legs again and Natasha pummels him in the face, sending him stumbling, dark blood dripping from his mouth, she jumps at him and wraps her legs around his neck, momentum sending them both to the ground. His claws scratch across her biteguard, Sharon's baton hits him in the neck, he jumps at her again, she grabs his arm and slams her foot in, cracking, howling, twists him so she can get him in a chokehold, he tries to sink his teeth through her arm protection, scrambling for purchase with his claws, Sharon grits her teeth and twists hard, his neck cracks, not enough, lets go and yanks his head around, crushing his spine.

He drops down slowly, not fully paralysed, hisses at Sharon when she comes closer, she picks up his other arm and breaks it, too, then the legs, calmly and methodically while he screams in agony, then straightens. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Natasha groans, head dropping back. "Just a second. I'm exhausted."

"Stay with him while I look for the others?" Sharon suggests. "You could… incapacitate him even more."

Yeah, she knows a thing or two about that. Sits up. "Yeah. Go."

There's still fighting noises emanating from the door Sharon disappears through, flashlight down the hall. The vampire with the broken neck hisses at Natasha. She grins, pushing up. "So."

"Bitch," he hisses, breathless. "Slut. Whore."

"Quite the smooth talker." She crouches down next to him. "You know, I'd put you out of your misery, but we need you alive. So… your spine's not quite through, is it."

He bares his fangs again. "The Red Skull's coming for you. You know that."

"Looks like he's not coming quick enough," she remarks, leaning over and taking his head. "Uh, this is going to hurt, not gonna lie."

She twists and he screams before gritting his teeth, and then it's quiet. She grins. "Oh, now you feel nothing. Good."

"We found the body," his twisted head whispers.

She leans forward involuntarily. "What?"

The vampire grins, blood running out of his mouth. "You- killed him- and now they're coming for you. You're all going to die. Painfully."

Shit. "Who's coming?"

"Everyone," he whispers, craning his neck as good as he can. "Everyone."

  Clint has a broken hand but otherwise, everyone is fine. Tony maybe knocked against a wall too hard, despite the helmet, slight nosebleed. They're dragging the vampires out now, strapping them to stretchers. Doesn't bring up good memories.

"Hey!"

She turns around and James is hiding in a dark entrance, looking agitated. She looks back. "Mind if I-"

Sharon waves her off, so she walks down the alley and ducks into the entrance. "Hey."

"What the fuck are you doing," he asks.

Right. "Hunting vampires," she replies. "Is what we do. Uh, over the black cloak, I kinda forgot to tell you about the ice block."

"The ice block?" He doesn't seem pleased. "What the fuck?"

"Someone fished a frozen guy out of the Norwegian sea," she explains. "And Bruce, our resident smart guy, is trying to revive him. Needs a lot of vampire blood for that, though. So we thought we'd raid a hunting party."

"That's not how vampire blood works."

She snorts. "Yeah? You know that?"

"I just can't believe you'd change plans for that ," he complains. "I thought we agreed!"

"Look, they're not going to be surprised that we hunt vampires," Natasha counters. "Actually, bigger fish to fry. It seems that the Castle found Pierce's body and sent a messenger to Schmidt, so this place will reek of his goons soon enough."

James leans back against the wall, breathing out. "Shit."

"Yeah," she agrees. "But it seems they don't know about your involvement. So it shortens our timeline but doesn't change the plan."

"He can't draw them together that quickly," James remarks. "I talked to Pierce- before- and the black cloaks are all across the globe. He thought two in Prague would be enough. There's only three others in Europe and they may not be dispensable."

"Can't just hop on a plane?" she asks.

He snorts. "Sweetheart. The sun."

"Right." She rubs her nose. "So three. Karpov in Russia."

He pulls a face. "Yeah. Awful guy. So you heard about him."

"Schmidt has big plans for Russia," she says. "So Karpov's probably not available. Who are the others?"

"Schmidt's in Northern France," he replies. "Strucker is still doing Germany and the Viper's down in the Balkans."

"The Viper?" she repeats. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, fun lady," he remarks. "She knocked my fangs out last time. Schmidt has a thing for her."

"Wow." She shakes her head. "Thinks he's a god and is actually just a guy . And the most powerful vampire alive, of course."

"She's worse than him," he adds. "He's at least trying to achieve something, she just enjoys terrorizing and killing people."

"Great people you're working with," she remarks. "And they're both available?"

"Probably," he states. "I'm not sure about Karpov. Maybe you're right. Schmidt doesn't usually tell me what he's planning."

"Oh man." She rubs her forehead. "So they could be here any day."

"Stay in," he advises. "Really. I'll check in with the Castle, whether they know more. I'll come over in a few days and let you know."

"Okay." She breathes out. "Thanks. We‘ll try to work out a battle plan."

"Are you better?" he asks. "You still look kind of pale."

She smiles. "Yeah, I'm better. Don't worry." She gets on her toes. "Glad to see you, actually."

He's careful in kissing her. "Mhm. Can I tell you something awkward that I can't tell anyone else about?"

"Isn't that everything?" she questions. "Sure."

"Last time we met, when you killed Pierce," he starts. "I was warm for a whole day after. Actually, when I brought you back to the Tower, I… I still had the boner, so after bringing you to bed, I went to the bathroom and jacked off and- it just worked. Yeah. And even after I left the Tower, it took some hours until I went back to room temperature."

"Did that turn you on so bad?" she teases.

He snorts. "No. I don't know why. Felt really fucking good, though. I like having sex with you, absolutely, but it's kind of nice to have it in my own hands, too. Literally."

"Yeah, seems fair," she acknowledges, pecking his lips. "I mean, if I can and you couldn't… so I'm glad."

He grins. "Mhm. Tell me more."

"You'd like that," she accuses, pressing against him. "So… will you always be scared when kissing me now?"

"I just feel-" He sighs. "There's something, between us, that's neither me nor you, that's pulling us into a direction and- it's kind of scary. And I don't want you to get hurt, so I'd rather be careful."

"Yeah, maybe that's fair," she allows, kissing him again. "I should get back, probably. Before the Viper strikes."

He snorts. "Yeah. I wish that was funny."

#blood and stone #buckynat #vampire au #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #black widow #winter soldier #my writing #fanfic

[laurenbanasik]

A wholesome meme, and I changed my lockscreen to a desert because my phone is DRYYYYY AS FUCKKKKING HELLLLLL. I rarely get contact from those I love because they’re far away and I’m p sure they have a secret group chat without me in it to make things easier without having to worry about inviting me since I live so far away and don’t want to burden me with not being able to spontaneously hang (which breaks my fucking heart but oh well 🙃) and if I’m wrong I suppose my extreme social paranoia has WON YET AGAIN OOOOPPPPSS. Well I’m emotionally overwhelmed and drunk so here’s another rant on how my life sucks and how I have such an issue telling other people about it because, due to years and years of emotional neglect, I have an INCREDIBLE INABILITY to confide in others healthily HAHAHHAHA. S/o to anyone who deems me a valid human being and god forbid chooses me for a friend.

Anywho, I’ve FINALLY realized why I fucking HATE to see my only friends hangout without me. MAYBE. JJJJUUSTT MAYBE, it has to do with the fact that the last time I saw my old high school friends (the 3 I held closest to my heart and confided everything in) hanging out without me on social media was also the same day they yote me out of their lives forever... More detail? I thought you’d never ask!! How kind of you to care about my innermost traumas and allow me to express myself, seeing as I’m an incredibly open book about my sorrows. Having anyone listen to them and make me feel like a person worthy of love and care despite my many faults is something that NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS to me anymore due to me not opening up, not having the emotional availability to, or I’m just SO SO SICK OF BURDENING MY LOVED ONES WITH THE SAME SAD SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT IVE JUST SWALLOWED MY INNERMOST DEMONS TO AVOID FURTHER CONTAMINATION OF MY LIFES ONLY LIGHT AKA MY FRINDS WHO THINK IM FIIIINNNEEE. FUN FACT IM FUCKING NOOOTTTT !!!!

Anyways, it was the tail end of my senior year in high school and my 3 closest and bestest friends in the whole wide world.... posted on Snapchat that they’d met up, without me, and were doing some bs cutsey bff forever Pinterest bullshit. I asked why I wasn’t there , and they proceeded to mock me via social media and kindly let me know I was no longer their friend by dancing to the hook of “I don’t Fuck With You”. Visciously @-ing meover snapchat. I cried. And cried. And fuck it had an AWFUL panic attack because I had ABSOLUTELY NO GODDAMN Clue what was happening. I was Confused. Hurt. Lost. AND I had no idea what I did wrong. (I later learned it was because someone said that someone said that I Apparently said something mean about them. It wasn’t true but, hey, it’s probably because I’m SUCH a horrible friend, and SUCH a cunt that it was apparently SOOOO believeable that IT completely negated anything I could’ve said in my defense. Adding to my extreme social paranoia I hold near and dear to me to this day, that’s often exploited in most social interactions I have which has made me an almost total recluse! THANKS ABBIE, KOURTNEY, AND BRIDGETTE! FUCK IT ADD JESSICA AND KASEY IN THERE TOO ECWN THOUGH THEYD NEVER CALL ME THEIR FRIEND IN ANY HEALTHY CIRCUMSTANCE HAHA ! YAYYYY TORMENTORS !!!) .....

And that was the last I ever really had contact with them. My only friends throughout some of the most pivotal years of my life. One I talked out of suicide and self harm, another I assisted with confidence and general love and support, and I tried to be there for the third as best I could, but she was a typical badass so I just enjoyed her company. My high school friends. I gutted them out of my heart as best I could. Forgot all of the AMAZING times we’ve had. A great portion of my memories in high school were tossed out along with their presence in my life to make the pain go away. A huge part of me died that day ... and nobody knew about it.

So, now, whenever I’m excluded I’m immediately put back into that void of confusion. What did I do wrong ? Did I hurt them? Why am I not there ? Do they think that little of me? Do they know how much I love them? Do I care for them more than they do for me? Is this a healthy friendship? Do they really think I’d rather be anywhere than with them? Should I just cut them out of my heart now to be ready for eventual betrayal ? Do I cut them out of my soul despite how much I’ll bleed? Haha , Yeah. I know.... it’s tucked up and Toxic as all hell. But, I can’t even begin to imagine a conversation with anyone about their attempt to help me with THAT problem. Or any other problems resulting from that. And, a couple days ago... id met up with a friend I’ve had since middle school. Someone who I loved my life side by side with until college. Someone Who saw that entire exchange, and who is still friends with those who (knowingly/unknowingly) tormented me to the point of breaking all through high school in the most demented,confusing, and underhanded ways you can imagine. I told that story to her, because she never knew how me and my 3 friends drifted so far away from each other. She had JUST heard about ALL of that for the FIRST time in nearly 4 years. And she believed me.... The whole situation of my downfall as a respected senior at Euclid High School. A girl who I’ve shared more than half my life with at the time ... and it was invisible to her. Wild.

I have broken apart an old piece of myself. Analyzed every detail, despite how much each part made me bleed. These old shard rip open old scars. It’s nothing new. I’ve been living in confused, isolated pain for YEARS. You really think this will break me? .... I mean I’m already very much broken. I mean, look at me, I’m venting on tumblr 🙃😒🙄. I just keep making shifty shelters out of the broken pieces of myself, just waiting for the next wolf to blow me down. I may be living in fear and paranoia, but I’m still standing....... aren’t I ?

#itbelikethatsometimes #oof #big oof #trauma #lady #rat #ladylikerat #ratlikelady #highschool #broken

[neekaasaddie]

Silver Chevy Silverado Part 3

      You know that feeling before a storm? The wind whistles, leaves rustle. Not in a menacing way, but in melancholy anticipation. There’s this electricity in the air. The atmosphere is unstable. Suddenly the polarities of the world become apparent. The clouds start condensating, becoming heavier and darker with their burdens until eventually they can’t hold on anymore and they let it all out. You’re standing in no-man’s-land and you know it. You’re conscious of your position in the middle phase––something’s gonna happen soon. You’re on a bridge and when you get to the other side, it’ll be completely different. The animals sense it first. They don’t come out of their dens and nests. They prepare for the storm.

     “Come over!” someone shouts over the hedge to my right.

     I sit up onto my knees, only seeing a head in the distance over the foliage. 

     Him? Why is he asking me to come over? Did he forget our previous interaction? Because I don’t think it ended on a very good note. 

     “But I’m reading!” I yell back. 

     I’m not reading, actually. I’m journaling––but my book is lying right next to me. I don’t know why I said I was reading. I guess reading seems more urgent and a better excuse not to go over than journaling does.

     I peer over the hedge again, watching him as he lights a pipe. The pungent smell of weed wafts through the air and penetrates my nose.

     He waves his hand in a motion towards himself and shouts, “Come on!”

     Damn it.

     I leave everything lying on the lawn and hop over the hedge, staring at the patchy green grass as I approach him. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. He obviously doesn’t like me. But if he doesn’t like me, why is he initiating an interaction?

     The intense afternoon sun blares onto my body and I feel like an ant under an interrogation lamp. I squint, my eyes adjusting from the shaded area I occupied previously to the strong rays of a setting sun. 

     As I approach him my stomach contorts itself into a million knots. I don’t want to say the wrong thing and have him make me feel horrible about it for days after. I don’t want him to pick me apart. 

     I feel like I’m walking on eggshells.

     I shouldn’t even care. 

     I should stop caring. 

     I attempt to un-squint my eyes as I approach him, my eyes tracing up from the ground.

     He’s shirtless. 

    God damn it. It’d be much easier to hate him if he wasn’t hot.

     “What’s up?” he asks, reaching into his pocket, extracting a pack of Camels, and selecting a cigarette. As he places it on his lower lip, he stares right through me. I’ve never met someone with eyes like his. I remember the first time I spoke to him, they were attentive and kind. I study him for a bit longer. His gaze is oddly distant today. There seems to be a disconnect––but they’re still incredibly mesmerizing.

     I realize I’ve been staring at him for too long so I turn my face away. “…Nothing,” I say, flustered.

     “You were just hanging out on your front lawn alone?” he asks, taking a drag. My eyes drift down to his bare chest but I catch myself quickly and respond.

     “Yeah…well kinda…but I was reading.” Could I be anymore incoherent? I can practically hear the eggshells cracking underneath my feet.

     “What are you reading?”

     “The Inferno by Dante Alighieri.”

     He responds with a shrug. I kick myself for answering honestly instead of diverting the conversation back to him. I don’t need him to tell me I’m a dork.

     He takes a step towards me and the tangy aroma of weed pervades my nostrils once more. Maybe that’s why this conversation is insanely dry.

     “So what have you done today?” he asks. He takes another drag and as he exhales the smoke, I smell something else besides weed and tobacco. 

     His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol. 

     This whole interaction is bizarre and confusing. Didn’t he imply that other day that we weren’t friends? Why is he asking me what I’ve done today?

     I stare blankly at the ground for a good five seconds. I feel something in me shift, but I’m not sure what it is. “Uh…well let’s see. I went on my morning walk, made some pancakes and coffee, gardened a little, and played some video games––” Stop talking.

     “Video games?”

     Shit. “Yeah.”

     “You’re a gamer,” he snorts in that all-too familiar condescending tone.

     “Well, no. I just play the games my brother had for his old Xbox 360.”

      i receive a grunt as a response.

     He picks apart everything I do and I’ve been nothing but nice to him.

     God this is awkward.

     I watch the smoke of his cigarette swirl and swivel through the air in a silky light grey streak. He takes out his phone and starts scrolling mindlessly. 

     He asks me to come talk to him, doesn’t really talk to me, and then whips out his phone. What the fuck is going on?

       When his cigarette dwindles down to just the pale yellow filter, he glances at it for a moment, then flicks it onto the road. I physically reel at the sight of him intentionally littering, especially since it's a cigarette bud. 

     Now it’s my turn.

     “You’re just gonna fling that onto the road and not pick it up?” I ask.

     “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” he snaps, grabbing another cigarette from the pack.

     “You know that pollutes our oceans and contaminates our water supply.”

     He rolls his eyes to the gods and scoffs. “The street cleaners will clean it before it goes anywhere.”

     “When was the last time you saw a street cleaner come through this street?”

     “Look, this is where my taxpayer money goes, so I’m gonna use it––and I pay a lot of taxes.”

     “Oh yeah cause you’re in such a high tax bracket,” I snort.

     “Whatever,” he spits, walking back to his garage and grabbing a twenty-four ounce can of Heineken. My legs instinctually take a couple steps back. 

     I don’t feel good. Something’s not right. The first time we spoke he wasn’t like this. What’s different? He had just come from work then––he was probably sober. That morning we spoke and he was rude, he had some alcohol. Right now, he’s high and drunk––and I doubt the cigarettes help. 

     He turns around. 

     “Woah, woah where are you going?”

     “What?” I ask, my quivering voice riddled with anxiety.

     “You’re just gonna call me a loser and leave?”

     “I never called you a loser I just––”

     “You did!”

     “No! I just pointed out that you probably aren’t in a high tax bracket but it’s okay because I’m not either! It was a joke, I swear!” 

     “No, no. I got exactly what you were saying. You think I’m a loser. It makes sense, I mean, I still live with my parents. I have a mediocre, low-paying job and I party all the time. I do drugs––in fact, I’ve done every fucking drug in this world. I smoke a lot, I drink a lot and, like you said, I’m not in a high tax bracket.”

     He takes a step closer. The concentrated stench of weed, tobacco, and alcohol radiates off of him to configure the most repulsive and fear inducing concoction––the scent of sheer volatility. 

     My stomach leaps into my throat.

     I attempt to distance myself but find my back against a tree. He stumbles forward, slamming his hand onto the trunk of the tree right beside my head. He downs half of the large beer can and wipes the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, his erratic eyes and intense gaze violate me. 

     I’m frozen with terror. 

     I could shove him off and run home––it’s only a few long strides from where I’m standing––but suddenly the distance seems insurmountable. 

     “You know, I drank a fifth of whiskey earlier too, let’s add that to the list,” he says, almost slurring. His marajuana-and-alcohol-laden breath molests my nose as he exhales. 

     “What list?”

     “Oh, you know, that mental list you keep of all the repulsive shit I do. Let’s see, I mean, just within the last couple hours I've smoked cigarettes and flung the buds onto the street, I’ve smoked weed, I drank too much alcohol, and I’m drinking even more alcohol now.” He leans his face even closer to mine. I feel like I’m face-to-face with a raging bull. The kind eyes I once used to revere have transformed into the most spiteful pair of snake eyes known to man. “Did I forget anything?” he hisses.

     I feel hot tears well up behind my eyes. I don’t dare blink. “Look, I’m just your neighbor. You asked me to come over and talk to you. There’s no list in my head. I don’t know who you’re mad at and I don’t know where this is coming from, but I barely know you and I just made a joke––I didn’t mean anything by it––”

     “Shut up!” he shouts. Slobbering spit flies onto my cheek but I don’t have the strength to wipe it off so I just let it slowly drip off the side of my face. 

     He’s breathing heavily. The hand he hit against the trunk is still there, trapping me in a malicious embrace. Veins protrude from his neck and onto his jaw. His previously calming green irises are being suffocated by red bulging bloodshot vessels. Who is this person? 

     “You think I wanted my life to be like this? You think I wanted this? Well I didn’t, and I still don’t––but I’m stuck here.” he slurs. “You think a stupid kid like you knows anything? I know everything.” He pauses. “Like I know this––I know that you like me,” he scoffs, “or at least you did. You’re so obvious. I see the way you look at me and talk to me––the way you get all flustered and fake-shy.” He proceeds to pitch up his voice and flail his arms to produce a wildly inaccurate imitation of me. In doing so, he releases me from his cage and I feel as if I can breathe a little again. “Oh me, oh my! Why, I am just a damsel in distress! Please, give me attention!”

     “I think I’m gonna go,” I say shakily, inching to the right and then backwards towards the safety of my front yard. My mannerism is slow and intentional, as if I was confronted by a rabid animal.

     But before I can get very far, he grabs my arm.

     “Leaving so soon? But the fun just started! I was gonna tell you that I don’t fucking like you. You’re nineteen! You’re a kid. You’re weird. You reek of desperation! And you talk like you know what life is, but you don’t even know your face from your ass! You’ve never lived! You don’t know what life is! You’re a fucking child for God’s sake!” His eyes scan downwards and back up. I hunch, suddenly feeling naked. “I mean, your body definitely isn’t shaped like a child’s,” he chuckles dangerously. “I’ll give you this much––you’re hot––but that’s about it. The most I’d do is fuck you.”

     I feel vomit rise in the back of my throat. This is too much.

     “Just stop!” I scream, a single teardrop falling from my left eye, I feel it mingle with the slobber that’s still left over on my face. I twist and rip my wrist from his grasp.

     “Fine!” he roars, tossing his head back and slamming the last half of his beer. He crushes the can in his palm, throws it in the back of his truck, and opens the door.

     “You’re gonna drive?” I shriek, walking towards him now instead of away. “Are you crazy?”

     He chuckles as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “I do this all the time.”

     “You’re fucked up! You could kill someone! You could kill yourself!”

     He laughs in the most mocking, fiendish tone. “Yeah, and?”

     With that, he slams the door of his silver Chevy Silverado, backs out, and speeds off to God knows where.

#short story #fiction #new author #teen short story #silver chevy silverado #part 3

[yesloverboy]

Neighborly (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader) Part 2

SUMMARY:  After helping you move into your new apartment right above the Crüe boys, Tommy stumbles drunkenly to your doorstep that night with an injured hand. With a tipsy confession, Tommy undoubtedly brings more chaos into your life than you ever thought possible in such a short amount of time. The problem is, you find that you don’t exactly mind as much as you should. As Tommy seemingly finds every excuse under the sun just to see you, you wonder if maybe you two are starting to act a little more than neighborly...

word count: 3,917

[Warnings: swearing, mention of injury, vomit, body image, drug and alcohol mention.]

NOTE: It’s finally here! Thank you all for supporting Part 1 so fiercely that I just had to keep it going. I can’t tell if this chapter is as action-packed as the last, but it’s definitely setting up for Part 3, so I hope you enjoy! If you have any suggestions as to what direction to take this fic in don’t hesitate to let me know. I can definitely see some smut/angst in the future if y’all fancy that. 

tags: @kwyloz, @scarecrowmax, @lavendersoundbarrier

 “Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?”

 Tommy’s words ring in your ears as you stare at him blankly, your mind reeling. Just when you thought the past twenty-four hours couldn’t get any more bizarre, your cute and helpful neighbor was not only bleeding in front of you, but calling you beautiful all in the same breath.  “Tommy, that’s really sweet, but I don’t think you know what you’re saying right now,” you comment, trying to laugh the whole situation off. You turn to exit the cramped bathroom, mostly as a half-hearted attempt at getting Tommy to hopefully follow you to the door. About halfway through the door frame, a large hand gently grasps the top of you arm, effectively stopping you in your tracks. 

 Instinctively, you twist around to see Tommy, who is now standing in painfully close proximity to you. You want to speak, but your breath hitches in your throat. There is nothing but a long beat of silence standing in the inches between the two of you. Tommy’s eyes are wide and glistening, as if he were looking right through you.

 “Come on, Y/N, I’m not drunk! I’m right!” Tommy breaks the silence, dropping your arm. “Okay, well...maybe I’m a little both. But I mean it, I swear!”

 You roll your eyes. Whatever trance Tommy has you in instantly brakes when you remember who exactly it is that you’re talking to. Just as you are about to turn back around and retreat to the living room, Tommy’s tall figure lurches violently forward.

 “Tommy, are you–?” You don’t even have time to get the words out before Tommy is retching at your feet.

 Luckily, you had barely been standing outside of the splash zone, but it still doesn’t make the situation any less gross. You hold your breath, not wanting the risk of you gagging to make matters worse. 

 “Oh fuck. I can’t believe I just did that.” Tommy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking disoriented.

 You pinch the space between your eyes and will yourself not to completely snap on the boy in front of you. In your experience, getting frustrated with drunk people never solved anything until the next day and, last you checked, there is still plenty of time left before the sun comes up.

 “Look, it’s fine. Just–please. Sit by the toilet until you’re absolutely sure you’re not going to be sick again.”

 To your relief, Tommy complies by taking a seat at the edge of the bathtub and lifting the toilet seat.

 “Look, Y/N, I–”.    “No,” you abruptly cut him off, “I’m going to go find a towel to sacrifice to the god of bad choices, and you’re going to stay put.” 

 Tommy chuckles softly at your comment, trying his very best to hide the amusement in his face with a bandaged hand. You have to turn your back to him to keep from smiling in return. Even though this whole situation was annoying, and–quite frankly–disgusting, Tommy somehow still makes you crack a smile. 

 What the fuck is wrong with me? You wonder as you go to fetch a spare towel from your bedroom closet. If this were any other guy, you would’ve kicked him out ages ago. So, why him?

 It ends up taking you a good thirty minutes to mop the vomit up off your bathroom floor. It probably should have taken less time, but both your comfort level and morale were low at this time of night. Tommy didn’t really say much for the duration of the cleaning process, apart from the occasional muttered apology followed by an immediate retch into the toilet bowl.   

 Finally finished, you toss the contaminated towel into black garbage bag to be dealt with in the morning. In the kitchen, you scrub your hands raw under the tap and end up getting Tommy a glass of water while you’re there. If you were being honest, he definitely deserves to be hungover in the morning after such a fucking mess. However, you didn’t have the heart to let him dehydrate after all the puking he just did in front of you. You consider the possibility that his humiliation could be enough retribution for his crimes against your sanity.

 You give the door frame a gentle knock before stepping into the small bathroom. The mustard yellow wallpaper gives the room a sickly feeling, and you aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to envision it as a place of cleanliness ever again. Tommy is still resting on the edge of the bathtub, head placed firmly in his hands.

 “Hey there, drummer boy. How ya feeling?” Tommy perks up at the sound of your voice, suddenly sitting up much straighter. His hair is sticking up in all the places where his hands were laced through it, and dark circles were starting to form under his eyes. Despite all odds, he still looks more than happy to see you.

 “There’s my favorite neighbor!” Tommy slowly wobbles to his feet and approaches you, seeming to a little more sober but a lot less energetic.

 “You’re only saying that because I’ve been cleaning up your bodily fluids all night,” rolling your eyes playfully, you hold the glass of water out to him.

 Tommy quickly obliges, downing the water like a castaway in the desert. You start to laugh, unsure if you’re punch-drunk from the lack of sleep or slowly losing your mind. Regardless, something in your mind has decided that the sight of Tommy’s adam’s apple bobbing up and down at a rapid speed is utterly hilarious.

 Setting the glass down on the counter, Tommy quirks an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny, huh?”

 “Nothing,” you reply, still stifling giggles, “it’s just that today has to have been the weirdest fucking first day in L.A. that I could have ever imagined.”

 Tommy only grins back. “Would you believe me if I told you it could only get weirder from here?”

 “Actually, coming from you? Yeah I think I could believe it.”

 Absentmindedly, you glance back into the living room, the clock on the wall catching your eye. Your eyes widen at the realization that it’s already three in the morning. Time certainly flies by when you decide to assume the role of babysitter for your drunken neighbor.

 “Jesus, Tommy. It sure is getting late. Shouldn’t you be heading back?”

 As if on cue, you can hear the piercing sound of police sirens wailing just outside your apartment window. You and Tommy share a brief look before racing over to the bedroom window to see what in the hell is going on. Outside your apartment, the both of you can see two squad cars parked out front while four officers start racing up the steps. You were just about to ask Tommy if he had any idea what could be happening, went you felt a deep thud vibrate beneath your feet. Either the party downstairs had kicked up a notch, or something was wrong.

 “Aw shit,” Tommy immediately starts heading towards the front door at an extremely uncoordinated pace. With the amount of puking and bleeding he had done in one night, it was a wonder he even felt like walking at all. It’s obvious to you that maybe nights like this aren’t all the uncommon for Tommy. 

 “Wait, what the fuck is going on down there?” You gesture to Tommy’s apartment beneath your feet, waiting expectantly for him to elaborate. 

 “The party must’ve got busted again. I can’t leave my band alone down there with the cops, man.”

 “No offense, Tommy, but don’t be stupid,” you scoff, “they’re going to take one look at you and arrest you immediately. The least we can hope for is that your bandmates haven’t given them any reason to come inside.”

 Tommy steps away from the door and flops onto your scruffy old couch, looking conflicted. You never thought your couch was that small, but watching Tommy’s feet dangle over the opposite end makes you feel otherwise. “Well what should I do, then?”

 You could stay here, you think and mentally kick yourself. You stare up at the ceiling, hoping for some reason that you might be able to find the answer to your–no, Tommy’s–predicament there but...no such luck.

 “Well…” you sign, the weariness in your voice is evident despite your efforts to mask it with a smile. “I guess you could crash on my couch, if you really want to.”

 Tommy sits back up, swinging his long legs around to the floor. “Y/N, you’ve done more than enough. It’s cool, man. I’ll just wait outside until the cops get bored. They usually do when they realize the door is nailed shut.”  At Tommy’s mention of the door to his band’s apartment being nailed shut, you recall the smaller man with the scowling face crawling out of the window to clean up the balcony. You remember the image being jarring at the time, but now everything was beginning to make a weird amount of sense.

 “Nailed shut–wait, is that why that little guy was going through the broken window to get to the balcony? You know, the one with the...stare.”

 Tommy bursts out laughing, “Oh yeah! That’s Mick. He’s a weird little man, but he can shred on the guitar. It’s probably on the account that he’s an alien from outer space, or somethin’.” 

 Tommy stands again, this time more confident in his movements. “Everyone goes through the window on account of the cops always busting the door down. And it looks like I’ve got a while before I’m going to crawl through it again tonight.” He gestures to the blue lights flashing from the bedroom window. Although the commotion outside seems to have quieted down significantly, it appears that the police are still camping outside for good measure.

 “Tommy it’s totally fine if you wanna stay. It’s not like I’m getting that much sleep tonight anyways.” To your surprise, you really mean what you’re saying. Sure, you were absolutely knackered from a full day of moving and a night of playing both nurse and babysitter, but the damage had already been done.

 “Sorry again for all that,” he cringes sheepishly. Surprisingly, Tommy isn’t immediately refusing your offer this time. “Don’t be silly, Y/N, there’s no chance in hell I’m going to fit on that couch anyways.”

 “Since when is a cramped couch better than curling up on the bench in a holding cell?” You both know that the chance of Tommy getting bagged by the cops outweighs the possibility of him having a peaceful night waiting outside.

 Tommy runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Alright, you got me there.”

 “Sleep wherever you want, drummer boy, but the bed is still mine.” You turn away with a wry smile, exiting the living room to grab some pajamas from your closet. Deciding on a pair of flannel pajama pants and a cropped t-shirt, you head to the bathroom to change and wash the day’s events from your face and hands.

 As you brush your teeth, you continue to wonder what it is about Tommy that makes you so willing to put up with his antics. You try to consider what your friends, or even your family, back home would say about the whole situation. In your head, you can almost hear the voice of your best friend berating you for letting someone you just met stay in your apartment for the night–no matter the circumstances.

 But then you think back to Tommy approaching you with his bleeding hand, asking you to handle his injury because he couldn’t stomach the sight of it. Most guys you had known in your life weren’t like that; so willing to give help, yet also willing to admit when they need it most. There’s something about that quality in Tommy that makes you trust him a little more than you probably should. Shrugging, you spit foamy toothpaste into the sink and rub your face. Sure, you may have decided you trust Tommy’s motives thus far, but you definitely couldn’t trust his judgment after he decorated your evening with blood and puke.

 Stepping out of the bathroom, you look out into the living room to find the lights switched off and Tommy nowhere in sight. On a whim, you decide to tiptoe to your bedroom where the light was still on. Pushing open the door, you’re shocked to find Tommy lying on the floor next to your mattress, eyes fixed upward at a spot on the ceiling.

 You clear your throat poignantly, causing Tommy’s head to jerk upwards. “Um, what the fuck are you doing on my floor?”

 To your frustration, Tommy is all smiles as always. “Well, you said I could sleep anywhere as long as you kept your bed.”  

 You massage your temples, realizing that you did, in fact, say exactly that. “Okay, fair enough. But, I’ve gotta ask...why my bedroom floor exactly?”

 Tommy props himself up on his elbows, smirking like the two of you are sharing an inside joke. “Well, I figured the guys have noticed I’m not at the party anymore, so at least I can tell them I spent the night sleeping next to a girl.”

 You grab one of the pillows off of your bed and pelt it at Tommy, unable to hide your amusement at the mental gymnastics he went through to justify his behavior. “You are absolutely unbelievable.”  

 You switch off the light, deciding you are too tired to protest any longer. A weird mix of moonlight and flashing blue spills through the curtainless window, illuminating Tommy’s figure resting beneath it. You notice that he’s tightly clutching the pillow you’d tossed at him rather than placing it under his head, giving you the sneaking suspicion that he’s probably a cuddler in his sleep.

 Trying to relax, you turn to face the wall, curling tightly in your quilted duvet. You are unable to tell if you’re exhausted or if the place is growing on you, but you’re surprised to find your apartment is actually becoming rather cozy. You are just about to drift off to sleep when your restfulness is interrupted by Tommy’s voice.

 “Hey,” his voice is barely a gravely whisper in the darkness, it’s so low that you almost don’t hear him at first. “Psst, Y/N.” Tommy tries again, a little louder this time. 

 “What is it, Tommy?” You roll over to face your body in his direction. The police lights had disappeared since you had last closed your eyes, and you’re having a difficult time making him out with in the darkness with just the moonlight.

 There’s a long beat of silence before he answers again, almost making you believe he had fallen asleep. “I meant what I said earlier,” he finally says, his voice still soft. “You really are beautiful.”

 Amazed that he remembered what he had said when he was wasted earlier, you are unable to contain the smile on your lips. Luckily, it’s most likely too dark for Tommy to notice. 

 “Oh yeah?” you reply, “Well I meant what I said too.”

 “What was that?” Tommy asks.

 “That you’re unbelievable.”

 Tommy’s faint laughter is the last thing you hear before drifting off once more, your mind falling away into fuzziness.

 You wake up with the California sunshine in your eyes, the entire bedroom bathed with golden light. Considering how hard you had slept, you assume it must be late in the afternoon, but the digital clock on your dresser claims it’s only 10:37am. Feeling groggy and a little out of place, you glance over to the floor at your bedside. You’re a little disheartened to find that Tommy has already gone, but figure he was probably anxious to see what had happened to his bandmates last night.

 Rather than over analyzing the events from yesterday, you opt to put on a pot of coffee and jump in the shower instead. You turn on your old radio, the sound reminding you that it was really about time to thrift around for a new stereo. As The Doors crackle brokenly over the radio static, you let your shower rinse away the events of the past day (and early morning). Memories of saying goodbye to your family, packing, the overnight drive, unpacking–everything seems to fade away among the steam.

 Well, everything except meeting Tommy.

 Getting out of the shower, you’re feeling far too lazy to bother with drying and fixing your hair. It was pushed back out of your face for so long yesterday that you reckon you can get away with it being a little unruly. Grabbing a cup of coffee along the way, you end up rummaging through your dresser, sifting your way through garments of mesh, leather, lace, and the occasional polyester.

 While you are definitely no stranger to the sunshine, this Los Angeles heat seems like something else entirely. Everything you own feels like way too much fabric. With a nostalgic sigh, you pluck a shredded, leopard print tank top out of the back of your drawer. You laugh softly to yourself as you trace your fingers over all the safety pins you had stuck through the collar to pull together all the rips and tears. Despite the top being an artifact of your high school punk days, you determine you could find some way to make it modern.

 Taking a look in the bathroom mirror, you trace the purple circles under your eyes that reflect your sleepless night. With another sip of coffee, you conclude that a bit of makeup couldn’t hurt. You would never be willing to admit it, but putting on makeup was the best part of your morning routine. It’s not necessarily because you feel like you need it all of the time, but something about the ritual of it all seems special.

 When you did your makeup, you always felt inspired by your mom’s old photos from the 60s. There was something about the bright colors and geometric shapes that really made you feel closer to home whenever you were far away. Now, feeling further away than ever, you set to work on your face.

 As you’re using all of your concentration to paint on a small cat eye, a loud knock on the door causes you to leap in surprise. To your relief, your hand hadn’t jerked hard enough at your sudden movement to mess up any of your efforts. Tossing the pencil on your bathroom counter, you reluctantly go to see who it is.  

 Pulling the door open, you are amused to discover that Tommy has returned yet again, this time looking far more put together than when you last saw each other. Out of curiosity, you look for his bandaged hand to see that it’s clutching a flat, white box.

 “Hey neighbor! It looks like you finally got some beauty sleep after all,” he walks past you, entering your apartment as if he lives there. It would seem that causing harm to himself, showing up unannounced, and walking into places uninvited are just a few minor things on a long list of Tommy’s bad habits.

 “Yeah, and no thanks to you,” you tease, as you shut the door behind him.

 Taking a seat at the dining table, Tommy sets the box down in front of him. “You can be real mean, sometimes, you know that? Besides, I felt bad so I brought a gift.” He then opens the box to reveal a dozen assorted donuts, each of which glistening with some kind of glaze or frosting.

 “Aw, Tommy. You didn’t have to get me those.” Honestly, you hadn’t expected to come by and try to apologize again, let alone attempt to make up for it.

 Tommy kicks his feet up onto the table, leaning back in his chair like an unruly schoolboy. “Actually yeah I did, Mick said so and he’s usually right about most things–but I also really wanted to. I just didn’t know how, so I asked Mick.”

 God he is such a fucking mess, you think, unable to suppress how entertaining you find the idea of Tommy asking his grumpy guitar-player for help.

 “I’m starting to think Mick might be onto something, you should listen to him more often.” You moved to get your coffee cup from your bedroom, knowing that you were going to need a whole lot more if you were going to put up with Tommy today.

 “While you’re here, do you at least want some coffee?” you inquire as you make your way back towards the kitchen.

 Tommy scrunches his face up in disgust, “Thanks, dude, but I really can’t stand the stuff. Had it once and it didn’t really do much for me.”

 You’re utterly amazed that Tommy has the amount of energy he does without drinking caffeine. “Suit yourself then.”

 With a hot mug in hand, you seat yourself across from Tommy. As you start to reach for one of the glazed donuts, you realize that Tommy has stopped reclining backward in his chair. Looking up to see what the matter is, you find his brow furrowed in concentration, looking at you as if you were a riddle he couldn’t quite figure out. “Tommy, what are you–?”

 “Y/N, are you wearing makeup? Because it looks fucking rad, dude!”

 Perplexed by such an enthusiastic outburst, it takes you a moment to answer. “Well yeah, I am. Thanks for noticing.”

 “Wait, would you ever, like, maybe consider doing other people’s makeup? Like as a job?” Tommy’s now leaning in toward you, chin resting thoughtfully in his hands.

 You take a bite of your donut and consider his question. Sure, makeup is something you enjoyed but you’d never consider doing it seriously. You think back to a few Halloweens and theatre productions back home where your friends asked for your help, but that certainly didn’t qualify you to do makeup professionally.

 “Honestly, Tommy, not really. It’s mostly just for fun,” you shrug, setting the other half of your donut back in the box.  

 “My band Mötley Crüe has kind of made makeup part of their thing, but I’m still not really that great at it yet,” Tommy admits as he picks absentmindedly at the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Would you ever be willing to, like, teach me sometime?”

 “Trust me,” you say, pointing to your face, “this is not how you want to look if you’re in a rock band.”

 “Oh come on, Y/N, who wouldn’t want to look like that.” Tommy flashes you a cheeky smile, causing the a blush to creep up to the apples of your cheeks.

 You toy with the idea of teaching Tommy the little bit of cosmetic knowledge you have, finding that you don’t hate the concept as much as you originally thought. “Well, when’s your next gig?”

 “This coming Friday,” Tommy answers eagerly, “I was thinking that you could do my makeup for the Friday show, and then for Saturday’s I could try to recreate it or something.”

 Considering that it’s already Monday, you decide that the idea of having four Tommy-free days is rather appealing. Even though you find him to be a cute mess of a person, you know you could really use the alone time to adjust. Who knows? Maybe agreeing to see him on Friday could do exactly that.

 “Alright, fine,” you relent, “Friday it is, then.”

Part 3

Masterlist

#yeehaw it's here #writing #neighborly series #neighborly part 2 #mgk!tommy lee #mgk!tommy lee x reader #tommy lee #tommy lee x reader #motley crue #mötley crüe #the dirt #the dirt movie #the dirt netflix #vince neil #nikki sixx #mick mars

[msjr0119]

Trouble

This is a one shot for my bestie @pedudley 😘

Happy Birthday Babe!!!!! See you tomorrow for celebrations 🥳

Characters belong to Pixelberry apart from Willow who is Paige’s OC. Freya is my main character in one of my series.

Warnings: One DRUNK character (based on my drunken antics as an 18year old) swearing, and Drillow smut 🔥

*****

In Cordonia, the gang had decided to go on a vacation to the US- Drake was half American and Freya grew up in the New York even though she was English. After much deliberation they agreed to go to Texas.

“Oh I have an old college friend from Texas, I think she lives in the part we will be staying in. It’s her birthday whilst we will be there. I’ll contact her ask if she wants to hang out?” Freya suggested excitedly.

******

It was Willow’s birthday, she had been in contact with her college friend Freya about meeting up for a catch up. Freya had been gallivanting around Europe and Willow was intrigued to hear about the stories.

Making her way to the location that she had agreed to meet at with Freya- she was slightly nervous, as Freya had dropped the bombshell that some of her new friends would be ‘tagging’ along. Arranging to meet up at a local bar - Willow scanned the room hoping to see a familiar face. With no avail, she headed up to the bar- she asked for a few shots to give her that bit of dutch courage. She was an outgoing type of person, but she hadn’t seen Freya in years.

“Surprise!!!” Turning around she recognised that familiar voice.

“Freya!”

“Happy birthday babe. Next rounds on me.”

“Thanks. Where are the tag alongs?”

“Oh, they are sat in the vip area. I’ll introduce you in a minute. I can already tell that tonight is going to get messy!”

Walking over to the VIP area, Willow believed the tourists were going all out for their time in Texas- the vip area was only generally used for; special birthdays, hens/stags or celebrities.

“Guys, this is my friend Willow. It’s her birthday today so all be nice or I’ll get Liv to stab each and every one of you.”

Willows eyes widened- surely she’s joking. She can’t be friends with serial killers?

“Willow, this is; Liam my other half, Maxwell my adopted brother, crazy ass bitch Olivia, sweet loveable Hana and over there is grumpy Drake.”

Willow nervously waved and said hello. Freya noticed that Drake’s usual persona had changed as he couldn’t take his eyes off Willow. Feeling slightly jealous that he never returned her feelings during Liam’s social season- she had hoped that he wouldn’t be a jerk towards Willow like he was with her.

“Hey Lo, are you okay? You and Drake are providing each other with fuck me eyes.”

“I am not!”

“Yes you are. I don’t blame you. I thought I was in love with him but he never looked at me like that. You should talk to him.”

Willow raised her eyebrows at her friend, secretly she was providing him with those looks- but she didn’t want to cause a drift in case Freya still had feelings. Sitting next to him, she decided to start off with small talk- talking wouldn’t do any harm she thought.

“So why does she refer you as the grumpy one?”

“I’m not grumpy. Well I am at times. But it depends what type of person I’m with.”

“Oh?”

“Those lot are all nobles, Liam’s a Prince. Not really my thing. I’m just the commoner.”

“Stop with the self pity- come and dance with me?”

“I can’t dance.”

“I’ll teach you.” Drake gulped as he looked at her natural loose hair and curves in the form fitting dress she wore. The flecks of gold in her brown eyes and freckles that surrounded her nose and cheeks made her look adorable- he thought about maybe risking himself looking like a fool to spend a bit of time with the beautiful stranger. Freya coughed whilst giving him the dagger eyes, encouraging him to dance. Willow dragged him on to the dance floor, before the others followed suit. Noticing that he was a bit stiff, she decided to press her back against his muscled chest and grind along him- forcing his hand to go around her waist. Liam noticed that Drake had come out of his shell, and smiled at him. Spinning Willow around so she was facing him, her eyes sparkled.

“This type of dancing is better than what they do. I’m not into all the fancy Waltzing.” He whispered. Throwing her arms around him, their foreheads touched- Drake felt the urge to kiss her, maybe it was due to the alcohol? Gently placing her lips on to his, the slow kiss soon turned passionate. Drake looked sheepishly at her, wondering if he had crossed the line.

“Well Drake, I’ll class that as a birthday kiss then? Thank you. Thank you for the dance.”

“Yeah something like that. You’re beautiful. I didn’t mean to say that... I Erm.”

“Did anyone tell you how cute you are when you’re flustered and nervous?” Looking over towards Freya, he remembered her saying the same exact words. Feeling guilty with how he treat her, he wasn’t going to do the same mistake again.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked changing the subject due to the awkward situation. Willow nodded, not wanting for the night to end. At first she was nervous about meeting the strangers - now she wanted to get to know them better and show her true personality.

*****

Everyone became intoxicated apart from Willow and Drake who had slowed their drinking down- getting to know each other. He found out that she liked to draw, showing an interest in her hobby- he knew that she was talented. His forte was being able to drink whiskey- now wishing he could better himself. They also both had a common factor- being brought up on the ranch life in Texas. Willow excused herself as she went to the bathroom, Maxwell slid over next to Drake grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What do you want Beaumont?”

“Do I want anything? Why do you always assume the worse of me? I’m rooting for team Drillow.”

“Drillow? Are you serious? We’ve only just met.”

“But that kiss is what Kiara would describe as magnifique. You should invite her back to the hotel- you know what they say... what happens in Texas stays in Texas.”

“That’s Vegas you dumbass!”

“What’s Vegas?” Willow interrupted, as she returned to the table.

“Nothing Drillow.” Max winked as he moonwalked away from the awkward situation that he had caused.

“Oh nothing Willow, Maxwell wondered if you wanted to come back to the hotel with us all to finish the party? I think they are all ready to leave shortly.”

“Sure. Let’s do some shots before we leave. It’s my birthday after all!”

*****

After consuming so many shots in the limited amount of time- Willow felt slightly tipsy, invincible and in the mood for causing some mischief. Deciding to attempt at breakdancing on the floor, she took a stumble on a spilt drink lingering on the sticky floor- falling over laughing hysterically she realised that she had pulled another women down with her. The woman’s boyfriend attempted to help them up, but willow slipped again- pulling the woman’s hair. Once they both stood up regaining their balance- the woman snatched the bits of her weave out of Willow’s hand- “Shit happens get over it. Or go to a better hairdressers!” Freya ran over, forcing Willow away - suggesting that they escape before someone beat the shit out of her.

Exiting the bar- Willow dared them all to steal a glass of some sort. None of the others dare do it.

“You’re all wimps. Come on liven up! You’re on vacation.” Running out of the bar with a glass in her hand- Drake knew she was going to get into trouble. Freya placed a comforting arm on him.

“Don’t worry- she’s always like it. It’s not the worse thing she’s done when she’s been drunk.” Drakes eyes widened wondering what else she was capable of. She’s going to be trouble.

Walking out of the bar doors, they heard a smash- seeing Willow attempting to pick up the shattered glass of the floor. Drake picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder before she caused any injury to herself- they didn’t want to spend part of their vacation in ER. The bouncer looked furious at the friends- Maxwell apologised on behalf using Liam’s status to their full advantage. Olivia on the other hand, threatened for her daggers to come out and play- making the bouncer back off from shouting at the tourists. Hana fluttered her eyelashes, speaking calmly and politely like the typical noble stereotype that she was brought up to learn.

“Drake put me down I’m going to be sick.”

Putting her down, he was willing to hold her beautiful long light coloured hair back to avoid it becoming contaminated with sick. Before anyone could escape- projectile sick splattered everywhere, mainly all over the bouncer. Grabbing Drakes hand, “I feel better now. Run!!!”

Running away from the bar, they all stopped once it was out of view. Drake let go of her hand knowing they were all safe- all trying to regain their breath. Not noticing that Willow had slipped away from the circle they were stood in.

“And this guys is why Willow was my best friend at college! Surprised she hasn’t picked up some random item like a traffic cone yet.”

“Er Freya... I think you spoke too soon.” Liam pointed over to where Willow was stood attempting to carry a traffic cone- failing miserably she sat on it instead and fell off, now risking a head injury along with the previous “slicing her finger” antic.

“For fuck sake...” Freya muttered, before escorting the others over to the drunk Texan.

“Guys let’s grab some food before we head back.” Willow said, barely able to walk- staggering about along the cold pavement.

“Oh dear god no.” The friends looked at Freya wondering why she would say that. Entering the takeaway, Willow stood up on one of the tables where people were already sat. Knocking over their drinks, as she stumbled- she apologised many times, before attempting to wipe up the residue with the people’s burgers and fries and the women’s clutch bags. After the liquid wasn’t cleaned up, she laid on the table legs swinging in the air whilst eating the food she had stolen. Freya dragged Willow off the table abruptly, explaining to the people that she really is a nice girl and that she would replace their food. “Hey waitress! I want a cheeseburger without the cheese please but with extra pickles. I’ll love you forever!” “You mean a hamburger then Lo. And you don’t even like pickles. Let’s get you a coffee at the hotel instead.” “No Frey, I mean a fucking god damn cheeseburger without the cheese. I may have decided to like pickles all of a sudden.” Drake sniggered at her, he found her hilarious. She was definitely hard work. Freya suggested that one of the men carried willow back to the hotel- not only for her own safety but for everyone’s safety.

****

Once arriving at the hotel, Drake sat her at the table in his room. Pouring her a black coffee- hoping she would sober up soon. He had never laughed as much on a night out- seeing her dimple every time she laughed made his heart fill with joy.

“You guys are no fun.”

“We can be. Sometimes. I think you’re just unique Willow.”

“And you Drake Walker, are not a grump. Freya doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Thank you for coming. I’ve had a brilliant night.”

“So have I.”

“You should come to Texas more often.”

“I may do- my mom lives here. And I’d like to see you again.” Before Drake could react Willow pulled him up off his chair- Pulling his face towards her she passionately kissed him. She had sobered up slightly but his kiss made her feel intoxicated. Holding tightly onto Willow’s waist, he pulled away- looking at her adoringly for a brief moment before capturing her lips, sliding his tongue across her lips, she opened her mouth allowing it to enter- he tasted a fusion of alcohol. Both getting lost in the kiss, it was as if the world had melted away. Moving her hair to the side, he kissed her neck- all she could feel was his hot breath, before he moved the kisses slowly down to her shoulder.

Undoing his shirt buttons, slowly as she admired his toned body- she bit her bottom lip. Roaming her finger along his muscles, she didn’t know how to react. Natural instinct told Drake he was getting lucky with the beautiful woman stood in front of him- removing his trousers, she gawked at the bulge on show. Guiding his hand towards her zip, she wanted him to strip her- slowly he pulled the zipper down allowing her dress to fall gracefully down to the floor. Drake couldn’t grasp how lucky he was - his heart began to flutter. Leading her over to the bed, whilst unclipping her bra- she willingly followed. Laying down, she pulled him onto her leading into another passionate kiss- his hand wandered towards her clit abruptly stopping. “Can I?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t reject him. “Please Drake.” That was all he needed to know, removing her knickers- he felt at how damp she was already. Returning to her clit, he teased it moving his calloused fingers in tantalising circles- arching her back she couldn’t contain her moans. Encouraging Drake to insert his fingers due to her pleasure, he pumped them harder and faster. “Are you enjoying it?” “Yes. I need more, please.” Removing his fingers, he licked her juice off them seductively- before moving his tongue to her pussy lips. Tasting her made him want her more. He had never believed in love at first sight but this was something. Licking her folds, he heard her unable to control her orgasms- boosting his ego that he knew how to treat a lady.

Willow remained sprawled out as Drake, worked his way up her body, kissing every inch. His tongue licked and sucked her nipples- creating them to become more peaked, before crashing his lips on hers. Reaching for his manhood, he shook his head- “tonight is about you, it’s your birthday. What do you want?” “You. I want you, Drake. Inside me. Don’t tease me anymore.” Lining himself up, he slowly pushed himself into her - allowing for her to adjust to his size, he began with slow yet deep thrusts. The trusts eventually increased in speed due to Willow’s reactions, both moaning- both breathing in unison. Her body trembling constantly, as she released multiple times. She could feel his cock pulsate as his hot seed spilled inside her. Laying next to her, he held her hand, attempting to slow their breathing down after the passion they had both encountered. Turning towards her, he cupped her cheeks- forcing her to turn her gaze towards him.

“Happy birthday trouble.”

#mybestiesbirthday #birthdayoneshot #drake x willow #trr hold my girl freya #maxwell beaumont #duchess olivia #lady hana lee #liam rhys