#BUT NOW I HAVE MORE SHIT THAT WILL STARE AT ME AS I TRY TO SLEEP

[nvuy]

im like itching for a boothill x single parent romance. LIKE WHAT IF they moved in next to boothill and everyones like "naww dont go near that guy hes scary and shit" but when kid sees boothill they get so intrigued by boothill they try to get close to him every time they see and hes just... scared? or paranoid, so he doesnt let them close. and then one time kid was still asking questions to boothill and stuff, parent was rushing looking for them, they see them, and then goes like "omf sir im so sorry my kid bothered you" and then boothill is like "nah its ok id do anyt- no what i mean we just met its cool btw lmao"

yk that one scene in a goofy movie where max get laughed at on the bleachers and then roxanne comes and picks him up and asks if he’s alright and then max starts babbling absolute gibberish yep

“So, how strong are you, mister?”

Boothill’s fingers are pressed against the girl’s tiny tiny hands. So small and little and squishy, and he seriously contemplated squishing her until she popped. His palm is cold against hers, and she giggles at the difference in size.

“Hmm…” He leans back on his heels in his squatting position in the front garden. He taps his chin in thought. “Don’t gotta clue. Anythin’ you need me to pick up?”

The girl gasps and there’s stars in her eyes. “Can you pick me up?” She stretches out her arms towards him.

He cracks a grin at her and ruffles her hair. “I dunno. You might be a bit heavy.” He’s teasing her, of course, but she pouts.

“At least try.”

“Alright, little lady.” He hooks his arms underneath hers and hoists her up easily, hands locked at her ribs. “How’s that? Good enough for ya?”

She hums thoughtfully, a cheeky smile on her face as she, too, taps her chin. “Now you gotta carry me for the entire day.”

It was his turn to pout. “N’aw. That’s no fair.”

“There you are!” There’s a rustle of footsteps and the jangling of keys to his left that made him stiffen for a moment, before your familiar face comes into view. Your eyes flit from him to your daughter. “I’ve been calling you for lunch.”

Oh, great Heavens.

“Hi, gorg– uh…” The ranger stumbles over his tongue and zips his lips shut when a small smile stretches into your lips. “We were– I was just– uh…”

Your daughter looks upset when Boothill gently places her back down in the grass.

“Just horsin’ ‘round,” he finishes. “I was just passin’ by, y’see? And your lil’ princess chased me down.”

You clear your throat, staring down at your shoes for a moment and trying to hide the heat rising from your neck to your face.

“I’m sorry about her,” you say to him. “She’s, um… hard to control.”

“That’s a good thing,” he whispers down to your daughter. “Means you got a free spirit.” He pokes her in the side and she giggles.

You give him another look and his eyes snap to the left, and a casual tune leaves his lips in the form of a whistle.

You offer a hand to the girl. “I made pasta.”

Your daughter practically barrels into your side, almost knocking you over with how her small arms wrap around your hips—she used to only be able to reach your knees. God, time flies.

Your eyes flit to the ranger once more. “Um… I made a lot so… if you’re hungry…” Your eyes trail down to his stomach before you swallow. “Do you get hungry?”

He studies your face for a moment with a pensive look.

Then, Boothill snorts. “Nah, sugar.”

Your face is burning. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come in, anyway.”

“Oh, please have lunch with us!” your daughter all but begs. Her hands have now interlocked in front of her in a pleading gesture, and she’s offering him her most intense puppy eyes. “I can show you my room.”

He’s immediately swayed. “Well, it’s hard to say no to a cute thing like you.” He reaches down and pinches her cheek.

He watches you blink, perhaps taken aback for a moment.

He thinks you’re so beautiful, even if the apron you’re wearing is covered in sauce stains.

He almost starts cheering when you visibly perk up. “You’ll join us?”

“’Course! I’d do anythin’ for y–” He stops himself by digging his teeth into his tongue. “I mean… if ya insist.”

He can tell you’re biting the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling too wide. You pucker your lips and look elsewhere, face dark with blood.

Your daughter is strangely silent. He notices she’s enamoured with a bright blue butterfly floating along one of the bushes nearby.

“Cool.” You can’t think of anything else to really say. You rock on your heels absentmindedly. “I’d like that.”

His smile grows impossibly wider. “Would ya now?” He taps your nose once before he bends down to greet your daughter again. “Lead the way, little lady.”

“One sec,” you mumble, digging in your pockets.

You fumble for your ring of keys before you throw them quite badly at the cyborg. He manages to catch them well enough, fingers frozen over the steel.

Huh?

“It’s, um… the purple key. For the front door.”

Sure enough, one of the keys was coated in a deep purple.

Your daughter has already begun sprinting towards the front door. You’re half keeping a close eye on her through your peripherals, but your gaze wanders from her to watch him closely.

“I have a spare so… you can have it,” you continue slowly. Was this… too forward?

Boothill eyes you for a moment. A hand moves to his hips.

Then, in a flash, he pulls the purple key off of the ring it’s attached to and gently tosses it back at you. You struggle to catch them, but you manage with shaky hands and stuff them back into your pocket.

“‘Ppreciate it, pretty thing. You know just how to make a man swoon.”

He blows you a kiss with the steel to his lips and then tips his hat. He catches up with your daughter in no time, sweeping her off her feet and letting her slot the key in the lock to open the door.

You realise when he’s staring at you, one hand holding your own front door open expectantly, that you’re standing out in your front garden gawking at him like an idiot.

You quickly follow him inside, and he closes the door behind you. He’s quick to swing an arm around your waist when you guide him into the kitchen.

[ivymarquis]

Not me vividly hallucinating about a certain scot eating me out until I cry

What you wish for

Pairing| John “Soap The Munch (tm)” MacTavish x F!Reader Rating| E Word Count| ~500 Kinks/Content/Warnings| Cunnilingus, squirting, mentions of safe word, Johnny is A Munch(tm), the author is an American still trying to dial in a Scottish accent

Date a munch, they said.

It would be fun, they said.

And it is, for the most part- you can admit that with no hardship.

It’s just that occasionally (like now), it becomes obvious that Johnny is eating you out for his pleasure and your own is just a happy by-product.

“Shit, ah! Johnny! I’m gonna- hgn- Johnny I’m gonna cum,” you pant in warning as the Scot buried between your thighs goes to town on you like a man starved.

Every time this man drops to his knees in front of you, it is a guarantee you’re going to see stars.

This time he’s got you pinned on your back on the bed. You seem to be wiggling too much for his taste as he’s banded one forearm across your waist and the other hand grips one thigh to keep your legs spread for him.

No matter how much you cry and moan and buck and cant your hips, he just leans his weight on you to keep you still.

He alternates between broad swipes with the flat of his tongue or more pointedly circling your clit or lapping at the inside of you.

While he’s yet to disappoint, he really seems into it (re: you) today. Like teetering on has-something-to-prove into it.

With that sort of dedication and attention, it’s no wonder he’s got you squirting and squealing in record time as he slips two fingers inside and abuses that spot that has you seeing stars.

Johnny works you through your high, lapping up every drop of it like it’s his last meal. Your legs twitch weakly in his hold as he continues on.

You think that maybe he’s working himself down, that he’ll leave you be in a minute.

He doesn’t.

Less attention is paid directly to your clit, but he’s still honed in between your legs even as you squirm. “Johnny,” his voice is a whine in your throat. “Johnny I came- I already came,” like there was any possibility that he is unaware of that- given how you squirted all over his face.

He pulls off momentarily, eying you with a skeptical look. “The fuck’s that got to do with me, bonnie? Cum or don’t, I'm finished when I'm finished.”

Your brain needs a system reboot at that- you stare at the ceiling dumbly as he gets back to business.

He’s trying to kill you- there’s no other explanation for it.

(Distantly you remember how your ex never went down you- still expected head on a routine basis, of course!- and you swore that the next guy you dated would have to be okay with reciprocation. You certainly got your wish in spades, hadn’t you? Almost like the universe was apologizing in the most mind-melting way possible)

It’s all you can do to lay there and breathe. If it actually gets to be too much- well, that’s what safewords are for. But Jesus fucking Christ the man doesn’t do anything in halves.

It’s only after he’s wrenched your second orgasm from you that he lets up, crawling up the bed to collapse to the side of you.

“Soon as my legs quit twitching, I’m returning the favor,” it takes you a couple tries to stammer out the words. Johnny looks every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Oh I’m no done with that sweet cunt o’ yours- ye just looked like ye were gonna pass oot. We’ll give ye a break an then back tae it, hm?”

[nina-ya]

Can I have a scenario where Law is jealous of Bepo because you’re always hugging and cuddling with him like the big cuddle bear he is but Law is too shy to admit that he’s jealous

A/N: Hi there!! I had a lot of fun writing this I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Law x Reader CW: none just fluff WC: ~800

It’s truly hard to resist the lure of the comfort that Bepo brings. Everyone knows this. Everyone on the crew has succumbed to the furry comfort of the polar bear, and you were no different. Especially during those cold winters, trying to steal Law’s body warmth is not enough, so you often turned to the furry companion.

You often found yourself nestled comfortably against Bepos warm fur. As you lay there, you caught a glimpse of a certain captain out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but notice that something was wrong. You would notice how his stares would linger on the two of you when you were cuddling, or how his attitude would be the slightest more passive aggressive if you were to talk to him after cuddling the polar bear. 

You brushed off any thoughts of jealousy, chalking up the more sour behavior to stress from future plans. As the days went by though, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was indeed something wrong with Law, yet every time you would confront him, you would be met with a short and sweet “nothing’s wrong.” 

‘Nothing’s wrong’ he claimed, yet those stares never stopped that constant upset mood never stopped. It’s as if he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo or something… holy shit he was jealous that you were cuddling Bepo!

Once you put two and two together, you couldn’t help but find this all amusing. His denial of anything being wrong was slightly infuriating, but his lack of communication is something you would work on later. For now, your main focus is exploiting that newly discovered jealousy until he owns up to it.

You started purposefully avoiding Law as often as you could to cuddle with Bepo. Every time he would see you, you would be cuddled into the side of the polar bear. This only heightened his jealousy further and further with each passing day.

Today, the Polar Tang was surfaced, and the crew took the opportunity to go star gazing at night. All of you lay on the main deck, watching the stars above, and you of course were planted right in the arms of Bepo, your new favorite spot. The crew was passing around food and drinks, chatting and laughing under the night sky, until Law left the group early. He was quieter than normal tonight, and you were honestly wondering if you were starting to take this jealousy thing too far.

Then, a blue bubble encompassed the entire deck and suddenly, you were no longer on the main deck in Bepos arms, but you were in the captains quarters, in Laws lap.

You stammered in confusion, trying to make sense of the disorientation caused by the sudden teleportation. Law’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. As if by instinct, you melted into his arms, your body molding into his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You nuzzled your head into his neck, mumbling against his skin. “Are you okay?” The care for him evident in your tone.

He let out a small grunt in response, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just stay with me for a bit,” he muttered to you, a subtle vulnerability laced in his voice. 

With a hum, you settled further into his arms, taking in the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body right against yours. The tension that had been building finally began to dissipate the more you settled into his touch. His tight grip around you softened, and you could feel his worries easing with the sigh he let out. It was as if all the weight of his jealousy had been lifted off his shoulders. 

You nestled closer to him, resting your head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. It’s moments like these where words are not needed, just each other's presence. He rested his head against your own.

Law broke the silence, “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. “ “for acting so…” he trailed off, not quite sure how to articulate his feelings.

“Jealous?” you finished for him, your voice gentle as you looked at him with understanding. A pause filled the air as he took in that word. ‘Jealous’. Law hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded with reluctant agreement.

“Yeah, jealous.” he admitted, confirming your thoughts. 

You sensed his discomfort and shifted in his lap to get more comfortable. “You know,” you began, your voice tender as you reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. “This is my favorite place. Right here, with you.” you punctuated your words by squeezing him tight. 

His eyes softened at your words, “Good,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “lets keep it that way.”

[asapeveryday]

SWIM ★彡

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings: shower sex

Summary: you’ve never seen Nika this mad after a game, jaw clenched shut and eyebrows furrowed. It has an affect on you that’s shameful, and she makes sure to remind you.

A/n: requested by VARIOUSSS anons. Luv u guys

THE DOOR SHUTS behind you loudly, and you can’t help but jump at the force of it. Nika almost pushes past you and heads straight for the kitchen, downing a glass of water and roughly wiping her mouth afterwards. She’s staring into nothing, mind obviously racing after a disastrous game.

You know better than to say anything to her, when she doesn’t preform how she hoped it’s best to keep a distance. Nika is usually good tempered and you’ve always loved that about her; her practicality, her levelheaded-ness. It came in handy when you were needy and exasperated, the way she’d simply purr your name and smile was enough to calm you down…even if her fingers were inside of you.

Her pent up anger was not unheard of, but still rather alien. What freaked you out more was how much of a struggle it was proving to be to keep quiet and distant.

Nika is bulldozing throughout your apartment now, throwing her jacket on the couch and tossing her shoes by the door before roughly yanking out her ponytail in a way that you know must hurt her.

“Can you stop fucking looking at me?” She snaps, her eyes narrowing at you and finally acknowledging your presence.

“Sorry.” You swallow, though you can’t help but admire her. It’s impossible to avoid the twitch in your pussy at the ferocity of her stare, her toned body slumping on the couch, or the frustrated lilt in her voice.

“Did you have fun?” She asks. “Watching me play like a loser today. Did you enjoy it?” She says now, dangerously calm compared to her earlier tone.

Nervously, you say “Of course I didn’t.” To which she raises an eyebrow.

“So it must’ve been a waste of time watching your girlfriend play like shit, huh.” Nika scoffs. “Were you embarrassed?”

“No!” You rush out, approaching her carefully. “I’m never gonna be embarrassed, Niks. It was one bad game, shit happens.”

She doesn’t have to say anything back, you already know the look on her face by heart. It’s one anyone who’s involved with an athlete knows, the look that says ‘you couldn’t possibly understand’. That expression on her face is one that you dread.

“Tell me what you want me to do Nika. How do I support you through things like this?” You sigh.

“You can support me by backing off.” She smiles, not with her usual kindness but with some sort of buried anger. “N’ stop gawking at me like a lost puppy. It’s fucking annoying.”

You cross your arms at this. You love Nika, but her anger makes her unreasonable.

“You sure you want me to back off? You’re the one who asked to come to my apartment.”

She stares at you for a moment that feels too long, the weight of her gaze growing heavier and harder to hold by the moment. You can’t read her expression anymore and it’s both enticing and nerve wracking.

“Since you wanna be smart,” she says, getting up from the couch and sauntering up to you. “I can think of something else you can do for me.”

Her tone is different now. Demanding in a way that excites you. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together. “Anything you want.” You mumble. “I’ll do it.”

Nika’s eyes sparkle at this, clearly satisfied with your answer. “Strip.”

You’re frozen at her order. She’s seen you naked before, but not under pressure like this. She notices your hesitation and tilts her head. “You said anything, right?”

You nod slightly, slowly pulling off the top you’d worn to her game as well as your shorts before timidly un clipping your bra, leaving your breasts bare and nipples hardening from the new cold of your apartment. You try your best to hold her eye as you slip your panties down your legs and step out of them and towards her.

The feeling of standing there stark naked as your girlfriend soaks in the sight of you in silence is more vulnerable than anything you’ve felt in a long time. You can’t help but bring your hands to your breasts in attempts to cover something.

When Nika’s lips meet yours it’s languid and calculated, her hands ripping your own from your chest as she clashes teeth with you. Letting go of your wrists, she says. “Go turn on the shower.” And when you look at her inquisitively she shoots you a smirk. “I’ll be there soon.”

-

You let the water warm until steam forms to coat the glass doors of the shower, your hair now soaked through and your skin hot. The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing sends a shiver down your spine, and when the glass opens and closes you know Nika has kept her word.

Nothing happens at first, she stands under the water with you, wetting her hair and skin whilst closing her eyes beneath the shower head. You know she can feel you staring, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t with her bare body on display. Her muscles glistening and wet, her belly piercing gleaming through the steam. When your eyes part from her body, they meet her own.

When your lips clash again it’s sensual and charges with a force you can feel deep in your core. Her hands are quickly on either sides of your head when your back hits the cold tile of the bathroom wall, and you let yourself grasp at her tan flesh while she explores your mouth.

“What do you want me to do, Niks.” You huff out between kisses.

“Be quiet.” She says in an instant. “N’ let me fuck you.”

You nod fervently at her request, allowing her to suckle your neck and chest until you’re painted pink and purple. You know she loves to mark you, to have a remnant of her on your body is like a dream come true for the both of you.

As her mouth latches onto your tit, her fingers begin to tease at your pussy. She just barely rubs your clit, smiling at your whines and pleads.

“You don’t even deserve this.” She sighs. “You don’t care if I win or lose, you jus know you’re getting fucked anyways.”

She’s still teasing you, applying pressure and then taking it away at every breath you take. Your hips are beginning to buck at the stimulation or lack of thereof.

“Please, baby.” You beg, throwing your head back. “Please just touch me.”

Nika clicks her tongue before slipping two fingers inside of you. “Keep looking at me or else I’ll get out of the shower.” She grunts.

You hurriedly shift your gaze to her, and the sight is mesmerizing, her tongue swirling around your nipple while her fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Her hair is wet and spread out down her back and over her breasts, her cheeks are pink from the hot water.

Your legs begin to shake when she quickens her pace, watching her digits disappear and reappear into your heat as she innocently smiles. The sound of your slick is just barely covered by the loud noise of the running water that drenches both of you. You reach a hand out to the glass that encloses the shower, leaving a handprint. Nika notices this and immediately has an idea.

In an instant you’re shoved against the glass, and you gasp at the sudden contact all while her fingers are still inside you. “Nika!” You exclaim. “Careful, the glass might-”

“Shut up,” she murmurs, head now resting on your shoulder. She’s pressed flush against you as she stretches you out. “You won’t break anything.”

You trust in her words and allow yourself to loosen up again. The sight from the other side must be immaculate, your breasts, face and hands pressed against the steam covered glass. If your roommate was to need to use the washroom for anything, she’d surely never be able to look you in the face again.

Nika rubs the condensation from a spot in the glass so you can see outside, directly into the mirror that faces you. The scene is so lewd you can feel your orgasm building.

“Look at you.” Nika coos. Her own eyes are also trained on the mirror, on your face screwed up in pleasure, on your pussy sucking her in. “How slutty is this?”

“Nika.” You cry, moaning a mess of words as your stomach gets tenser by the minute. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it.” She orders, and as if clockwork you climax all over her fingers. She presses a harsh kiss to your cheek and releases you from the pressure against the glass shower wall.

You hug her underneath the stream of the shower and she laughs. “Are you feeling better?” You mumble into her neck, and she nods. “Much better.”

“Good.” You smile. “Now clean me up and take me out of here.”

[obsessedduh]

genre: smutty with a plotty.

cw: implied fem reader and sub simon. reader is a bit mean dumification, sexism (reader mocks simon for being a man and being 'weak') masochism (simon), sadism (reader), simon is a crybaby. loads of f-bombs. bit of a long one and may be loads of spelling mistakes, but bare with me, y'all 😭🙏🏾

side note: i'm such a shit writer that it makes me want to cry. ughhh, like i've some people smuts, and i'm so jealous, like, i'm so shit at writing it burns 😭😭

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

dorky!gamerboy!simon with a slutty, popular, mean roommate.

he finds her so annoying, walking around in your dorm with those stupidly tight booty shorts that show the bottom half of your ass and those annoyingly tight tank tops that you wear that has your nipples poking through the fabric of them.

it's so aggravating because you get him hard in the matter of seconds and then you make him stumble of his words or make him blush like a fucking idiot.

and ohhh, don't even get him started when you bring guys over. it's so fucking irritating trying to study or play video games with a boner and having to listen to you stupid pornagraphic moans, it's so fucking distracting!

and on top of that, when he finishes studying and thinks he can finally go to bed in peace. wrong. the familiar buzzing noise he hears through the thin walls, and your moans are enough to make him go insane. he thinks his poor cock is on its last leg because of how many times he's had to jerk off.

he bets you're doing it on purpose at this point! trying to get him all riled up. trying to drive him nuts! i mean, what other reason is there?

also, your attitude is so bad. he could be telling you to do something, and you're already telling him to piss off. then it leads to an argument and blah blah blah.

you're honestly so fucking bitchy and it gets on his nerves.

today was no different! he was playing video games as per usual until you bursted into his room. you obviously startled him but he doesn't pay attention to you. just taking off his headset and letting it rest around his neck and still continuing to play his game, "don't you know how to fucking knock!?"

"whatever. get off your stupid game, it's your turn to do the dishes."

he groans and shifts around in his chair, so it spins to look at you, "i did them yester-..." as soon as he manages to look at you straight away, his eyes widen. you're stading in his doorway wearing a red lacey bra and a matching lacey red thong.

what kind of woman does this!? standing in front of her guy roommate, half-naked!? his eyes trace all over your body, your figure, and he can't help the blood rushing down south. he gulps and shifts his hands to block the serious boner he was having right now.

"why the fuck are you staring at me like that?"

"n-nothing..."

"whatever, you gonna wash the dishes or what?"

"s-sure... j-just give me a m-moment."

"aight cool. just hurry the fuck up, dork."

you leave him be and close the door and as soon as he hears the door click. his hands are already pulling down his sweatpants and fisting his aching hard cock, moving his hand up and down at an uneven pace, so desperate to cum. your name falling out his lips and filthy images of you clouded his mind.

meanwhile you were getting annoyed because he was taking way to long. you opened the door, "why the fu-..."

your eyes shoot open. he clearly didn't hear the door open or your voice. you grin as you watch him toy with himself, moaning your name. gosh, you never knew a man's moans could be so... addicting. you could already feel heat building in your core.

you watch simon fist his cock a couple more times before his cum drenches his hand and the chair under him. you grin and decide this is the time to speak up, "you enjoy yourself?"

simon felt his heart drop and he turned to look at you. his soft cock now going hard again by the sight of you. he let out a fit of sorry's and of course the dumbest like any man could say, 'it isn't what it looks like'.

"cut the bullshit, simon. you were jerking off, moaning my name. the fuck is it meant to look like?"

he looked away in shame and embarrassment. "and you know what makes it worse?"

he looks up at you, noticing the digested expression on your face. "your cock is getting hard again. you fucking pervert."

"i-i'm s-sor-... a-ah!!"

his eyes widened when your hand wraps around his cock. he let's out a groan when you pull the uncut foreskin down to see his angry leaking tip. "fucking disgusting. you're getting off by this!?"

blood rushes to simon's face and he let's out a croaky moan when your thumb traces across his tip, collecting his pre-cum. you slip your thumb into your mouth, the salty flavour lingering on your tongue. he watched you carefully, his breathy unsteady and his cock twitched a bit. "you're such a fucking pervert. you enjoying this, letting your roommate, your bully, play with your cock like this?"

he avoids your gaze causing you to dig your pretty, manicured nails into thigh, "answer me simon."

he lets out a pained groan and nods, "y-yes.."

you move hand to wrap his cock again and you begin jerking off his cock, his previous orgasm presenting as lube to help you guide your hand up and down his length. you watch as his head rolls back onto the of his gaming chair and his face contort into pleasure. you kiss your lips against his tip and he tenses up.

you grin, and you slip the head of his cock into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it and watch as simon's eyes close from the pleasure. you tongue teases the slit of his cock, taking pleasure in the salty taste of his pre-cum.

he groans and starts blabbering about how he's gonna cum. he opens his eyes to see your pretty half lidded eyes looking up at him through your lashes. you slip your mouth off his tip and pump his cock a lot quicker, hoping for more of his creamy white. instead you were met with loud groans and tiny droplets of cum. you look up at him again to see how breathy he was and you immediately start bursting out laughing.

"fuck me! you're so out of breathe and you only gave me, what, two, three fucking drops of cum? how embarrassing."

your laughter was humiliating enough, but now a whole sentence about it? he felt the heat rush up to his face in embarrassment, but what was then embarrassment was now lust.

he whines and watches as your tongue swirl around his tip again. tears building up his eyes from the sensitivity, and you slowly start taking him deeper into your mouth, and that's when waterworks come out. he wasn't fully crying, just a couple of tears from the painful pleasure, that's all.

you hear sniffles and sobs and you look up to see simon crying and you never felt so turned on in your life. how fucking cute. you take your mouth off of his cock and you give him the most smug grin ever. "are you fucking serious?! you're crying? oh my fucking god."

a full-blown laugh erupts from your lips. not again. he watches you slowly call down and stop laughing, and he notices something different about your expression. sure, lust was still there, but there was a tint of sadism there now. fuck. are you getting turned on by this!?

he doesn't even get the chance to say or think about it before you're already deepthroating him. he let's out a loud groan, tears leaking out of his eyes now. he can't help it, it feels so painfully good and the pleasures to much. you nose was nuzzled against his pubes and bop your head up and down and you are delighted to hear his pornagraphic moans and groabs and again as he cums. you were delivered with the same tiny droplets of cum.

you take your mouth off of his cock again, "fuck. the same orgasm from before how pathetic."

he couldn't even pay attention, too, out of this world to say or do anything. he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down but he let out a strained and choked moan to feel your wetness engulfing his cock. his eyes open and he looks down to see your pretty lacey red panties pushed to the side. he watches as your wet cunt slips his onto his cock with greed.

he groans at the feeling and he can't help the tears anymore. he doesn't care, he gives up, letting himself cry. his tears blur up his vision and he focuses on the feeling of your gorgeous warmth sucking his cock in until it was kissing your cervix. you slowly start bouncing on his cock and he's gone at this point.

eyes rolled to the back of his head and his head again resting against the head of his chair again. the chair creaks as you ride him. your moans being music to his ears. you place kisses all over his neck, smothering it in love bites and hickeys.

you feel his hands wrap around your waist, and you watch the state he's in. messy hair, eyes rolled to the back of his head, hickeys all over his neck. it's so fucking cute. "you're so fucking weak, what kind of man are you? a weak one at that. you're such a fucking crybaby."

you feel his cock twitch slightly at your words and you mouth shifts into a sadistic smirk, "you like that, getting called weak? a crybaby? a fucking man whore?"

you feel his cock twitch again, "f-fuck... you do... a-ah~... you do like that."

you feel your orgasm approaching and you pick up the speed. soon enough, you both have each other screaming each other's names. you squirting and simon finally delivering you that delicious creamy white you were so desperate for. you slowly slip off of his cock, your mixed orgasm now leaking onto the chair them the floor.

at this point, simon was so drained. his cock slowly going limp. his eyes start going droopy, tired from you two's sessions. his eyes closed and all his can remember is your soft lips against his then you saying,

"goodnight simon."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･*

extra side note: may or may not have gotten carried away 😔. um, please tell me if this was good because i feel as if i waffled way to hard😰 and that it's shit. i know it's probably gonna get barely any like as most of my post now but whatever. at least i tried 😛😛 also took me 2-3 fucking hours to do and it may not look like it but oh well, yolo. 😽

wanna know more about me —> here

masterlist —> here

[sstormyskyess]

back on my "too many ideas when i already have enough" shit again... drabble/wip of ex-boyfriend soap x fem!reader [very wip/unfinished btw. also implied stalking? kinda?]

You sigh softly and settle into the couch while you wait for your boyfriend to get done washing up in the bathroom. It was going to be a great night—just you, your boyfriend, and some nice movies to spend your Friday night after a long and arduous week at work. Wrapping your blanket around yourself and tucking it in just so, you then grab the remote to open up the streaming service hosting your favorite movie.

Unfortunately, you’re rudely interrupted by a knock at your door. A bit strange considering how late it was, but you wouldn’t want to be rude, so you reluctantly get up and pad over to the door. You straighten your night clothes—one of your boyfriend’s t-shirts and a pair of shorts that some would deem inappropriate—and take a peek through the peephole.

The sight that greets you is a very unwelcome one. Half of you wants to just ignore the person on the other side and move on, but you just can’t help yourself.

“Johnny, how did you find me? I never gave you this address,” You hiss at him when the door is open enough for him to just see your face. The look on his face is almost pitiful; he looks like a poor little wounded puppy, staring at you with those bright blue eyes.

“We need to talk—”

“We don’t need to ‘talk’ about anything. Go away.” You start to close the door, but his hand sliding between the door and the doorframe halts you. “Johnny, seriously, leave—”

He ignores you and pulls the door open wider, his strength winning out over yours. “I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out. Just…” His words peter off into a sigh, and he looks at the ground. “Just let me in, yeah? At least for a little while.”

“No. Get out of here, now.” You pull on the door, trying to close it against his grip.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hallway draws your attention away from Johnny and you turn to look at the source, your boyfriend. “Babydoll? Who’s at the door—it’s almost 9 o'clock.” His voice is gravelly, his exhaustion peeking through in his tone. This was the last thing you needed: your boyfriend coming into contact with your asshole ex.

“It’s no one, he was just leaving, actually. Isn’t that right?” Your eyes narrow at the man standing in your front doorway, your frown deepening. Johnny isn’t listening to a word you say, though, his gaze focused on your boyfriend.

“Who the fuck is this?” Johnny almost sounds offended at the very concept of you finding someone new to spend your time with. The hostility is mirrored in your boyfriend as he takes wide steps over to you, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you to his side, a show of his claim over you.

“I could ask you the same thing,” your boyfriend practically growls, all of his sluggishness gone in an instant. “What are you doing on my doorstep, huh?”Johnny takes a step forward and squares his shoulders. “What are you doing with your hands all over my girlfriend?”

[is this anything. idk if i'm even going anywhere with this but we'll see? more soap on my masterlist]

[guksfairy]

✧WC: 1.5k

✧Notes: Idol Jungkook, Kpop Choreographer OC, exes, kinda happy ending?, SLIGHTLY inspired by All Night by ASTRO (stream) but it’s not sad :)), most likely a one shot

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Koo💗: It’s laughable how you pretend you don’t care about me

The first message was sent at 11 PM.

Koo:💗: opn pls

You stare at the message illuminating your face in the darkness of your room. It was 3:18 in the morning when your phone pinged with a message from Jungkook who you had broken up with just a week prior to this. With a light scoff you decide to not even respond to it let alone let him know you read it. You lock your phone and place it on your nightstand and cover your body once more in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Just as you are about to slip back into your sweet dreams you’re interrupted by loud banging coming from the front door.

Oh god.

“Y/N!!” he’s going to wake up your neighbors. Quickly throwing on a hoodie over your silk loose night shirt you do a little run to the front door.

“Baby please let me in! The key isn’t working,” his words are slurred and his hair is a mess when you open the door. Your home is illuminated from the hallway lights and a grin from Jungkook who doesn’t hesitate to hug you the moment his eyes land on yours.

“The key won’t go in the keyhole,” he slurs tucking his head into your neck basically putting his entire weight on you.

You can’t turn him away. He’s clearly drunk in the middle of the night. Besides, it’s not like you ended on the most horrible terms. You had simply pointed out he was too busy with his work and no longer gave you the attention you desired in this relationship. He was clearly against it but he too decided it was better for the both of you. Since then you haven’t bothered to text him too busy with friends, family, and most importantly work.

You let out a grunt and push him away without fully letting him go. “Jungkook go sit on the couch,” you point to an area he’s well familiar with. Having dated for 2 years after all but he whines and shakes his head. “No no I want to be with you,” he attempts to go back into your embrace but you stop him and repeat your instructions.

“Jungkook go sit on the couch. I’m going to prepare you a tea,” He holds your gaze allowing you to notice the tears forming in the corners of his doe eyes. “You don’t love me anymore,” Shit. What do you say to that?

You do still love him but would it be confusing to say the truth and confuse drunk Jungkook. He’s already proving to be enough work so you try to avoid answering.

“Jungkook I care about you which is why I’m going to make you a warm tea so you feel better later,” you say.

“So you don’t love me?” his tone is childish with a whine. Something that always made you give in to whatever he wanted to do. Like when he wanted to go to the arcade with you but you had to focus on something works related happening very soon. He convinced you with his cute doe eyes and tone.

You avoid his question once more before pushing the front door shut and turning on your living room lights walking him to the couch he bought you. He helped you move into this apartment 1 year ago and had a good laugh when he realized you barely had any furniture so he settled on buying it for you. You wanted to resist but he was very persistent so in the end you just let him. He let you choose which one and the following week it had arrived.

Letting him fall slowly on the soft surface you grab the throw blanket beside him and throw it over his body. You walk to your kitchen and grab the pot, filling it with water, and placing it on the stove.

“Baby I’m really tired. Let’s go to bed?” his voice is loud from the living room but you ignore it. You can’t have this conversation right now. He’s drunk.

As your grubbing the mug you hear his phone go off and him answering.

“Jin hyungggg,” his cheery tone seems to confuse the older because Jungkook’s response was, “Nothing I’m fine,” with his slurred speech not helping his case.

“No hyung I’m with my girlfriend,” his eyes seem to slowly close giving into exhaustion before he’s handing the phone over to you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” his voice is shaky.

“Who else?” unless he was already with someone else who else would but you would he be with.

“Sorry I’m just out of it I think. Do you want Joon and I to go pick up the kid?” they seem to have already entered their car because the background goes quiet waiting for your response.

“I think you guys should just go home. It’s late and it’s not like I don’t know how to handle him,” you look at him noticing he’s only half conscious when your statement makes him smile.

“Are you sure? We don’t want to have him be a bother to you. You know with the whole…” you sigh before you tell them it’s fine and hang up placing the phone next to Jungkook realizing his screen has not changed. It’s still the picture he took of you on your trip to Japan for your first 100 days of dating. Your smile grows slightly before his phone turns off and you turn your heel back to the kitchen.

Resuming your act of serving his tea you grab his usual mug and pour his favorite tea into his favorite mug blowing on it and making your way back into the living room.

He’s snoring at this point but you don’t want his hangover to be too bad. He knows how to handle his liquor well but the hangovers were always present in the mornings. Never too bad but always there.

“Jungkook,” no response, “Jungkook,” earns you a minor hum from him, “Koo,” and that does it. His eyes open, not fully, and he moves a bit.

“Jungkook you should drink your tea,” you point to the mug previously set on your coffee table, also bought by him, in the hopes he grabs it and takes a sip but instead he looks at you nonchalantly and closes his eyes once more.

“Jungkook~” you shake him gently before he opens his eyes once more.

“Just drink this then you can sleep,” you say.

“I think we should just head to bed now, baby. I’m tired,” he says causing you to let out a deep sigh.

“Jungkook please,” he grunts but sits up as best as he can and takes ahold of the red and black mug and flinches when the liquid touches his tongue.

“Ow! It’s hot baby,” his eyes shut tight but you give no response. Instead you head back to your room and open your closet door picking the extra blankets and pillows before dragging them back to him.

“Do you want me to set this up for you?” You ask him. Watching him take another small sip, he looks up at you with his eyebrows furrowed when his sight lands on the bedding.

“Baby are you upset with me? Why can’t I sleep in your bed tonight?” You could be upfront but again are faced with the same dilema.

“I just-I’m not feeling too well. I don’t want you to catch anything,” your response seems to put his nerves at ease.

“I don’t mind it though you know that. Remember that time you had the flu and I came over and then I later got sick? I don’t mind it,” his argument only gets, “Jungkook that’s because we kissed while I was sick,” you place the items on the couch.

“I think we did more than kiss baby,” his teases cause you to softly hit his arm.

“You can set it up yourself,” making your way back into your bedroom his voice it heard again.

“Sweet dreams my love!”

“Goodnight!” You close your door not trusting yourself to deny him back in your bed. To sleep. Obviously. Nothing more.

With a heavy sigh you look at your clock reading 3:39 AM.

You still love and care for Jungkook but with his schedule and yours it just wasn’t right. He was busy with practice and performances while you were basically in the dance practice room constantly trying to perfect and teach dances for idols. Your work schedules constantly overlapped so when you got even the slightest amount of time with him you never took it for granted. Which is why the morning of when you turn and see Jungkook peacefully asleep in your bed you don’t care. You don’t push him off. You don’t get up. You forget about your breakup and allow yourself this. You let him hold you tightly like it’s the last because it very well may be.

[altf4d3lete]

Episode One this is single-handedly bringing back my obsession even though it never left

- its 2022. Why is everyone freaked out bc a girl wears all black. Like people do that on a daily basis nowadays

- PUGSLEY POOR GUY :(

- “I want names” didn’t you JUST see them walking away from the locker

- Stop shoving him in a locker tied up is actually so mean wtf

- I see people use this piranha scene as justification that she’d be okay with murder, but really it’s justification that she wouldn’t be okay with people hurting her friends and those she cares about AT ALL. She’s trying to KILL these guys just for bullying their brother. Imagine what she’d do to Tyler for hurting Eugene and Enid.

- The intro is SO fucking cool

- Emma was so far down on the list of actors and now my girl is #3 behind Jenna and buscemi. She’s a main character now B)

- If I were Wednesday I’d be pissed too. I CANT with the parents. Like I love you but RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER 😭

- It’s five minutes in and I have so many notes

- Have to say again with the “terrible, they’d know I didn’t get the job done” that Wednesday is MORBID, not okay with murder unless she deems the person deserves it

- Ergh there is clearly so much discrimination against outcasts

- Weems and morticia r lowkey giving homoerotic rivalry…

- I FORGOT HOW FUNNY WEDNESDAY IS

- I genuinely can’t even like… I CANT WHY DID WEEMS PAIR HER WITH ENID 😭

- Guys Enid is SO cute holy fuck. She is UNPHASED bro, she’s just so excited to have a roommate she’s so cute I’m sobbing. She just wanted to accept Wednesday.

- YALL WHEN THEYRE WALKING DOWN THE STEPS WEDNESDAY LITERALLY GRAVITATES TOWARDS ENID. LITERALLY RUNS INTO HER

- Wednesday just lies about killing two kids to Enid and Enid just moved on like nothing happened.

- Also HELLO? THEIR BANTER? Enid takes NO shit 😭

- Hmm part of me wonders if those wolves howling were making fun of Enid.

- They’re literally leaning into each other wha

- “You better watch your back” and Wednesday is behind her that’s so funny

- How do you go from “cute but clueless” to “obsessed” enjax was lowkey forced whereas wenclair had chemistry from the beginning

- AW PUGSLEY HES SO CUTE

- Wednesday being a housewife will NEVER make sense

- I know people hate the relationship between Wednesday and morticia but it’s very realistic. You can easily tell they still love each other despite the harsh words.

- YEESH THE HYDE TORE HIM APART (I think this works with my theory that the more Tyler is aware of the Hyde, the more controlled his attacks get. Which also means that he knew what he was doing when he killed Kinbott, leaving her alive to taste her fear. And he knew what he was doing in the forest when he tried to kill Wednesday and nearly attacked his father)

- WENCLAIR FIGHT THEYRE SO FUNNY TOGETHER THEY ARGUE LIKE AN OLD COUPLE

- when did Wednesday check out enid’s blog. How and why.

- THE LITTLE SCOFF BEFORE “you mean emojis?”

- Enid huffing is crazy girly is ANGRY

- The way they just stare each other down is crazy wenclair is SO full of banter I forgot how hilarious they are

- ENID SIDE EYES WEDNESDAY SO MUCH

- Bianca lowkey eating everyone up…

- Bianca is so aggressive in her fighting style, whereas Wednesday is precise. It’s really cool

- THE GASPING IN THE BACKGROUND AFTER “let’s see if you bleed in black and white.”

- Xavier scoffs so much in this show and every time he does it lowkey makes me hate him more

- “No good deed goes unpunished” okay elphaba

- Girly was smiling when she was about to die.

- DUDE WHY WAS XAVIER LEANING OVER HER? WHO DOES THAT? JUST SIT DOWN NEXT TO HER.

- “Call it instinct” shut up actually

- Bro she had NO clue who Xavier was 😭

- It bothers me that ppl think she cared Xavier was in the coffin. She just wanted to see the godmother come back to life fr

- THING HAHA MY FAV

- I would be flabbergasted if my therapist read the equivalent of my journal before our sessions. She never should have been sent that.

- Ergh Tyler…

- The deep voice lowkey sounds really forced, idk what it is about Tyler’s voice but it bugs me. I think it’s the way his lines always kinda have the same delivery.

- Twenty bucks when he probably makes that in like half a day of work 😭

- The pilgrims look like such dorks bro who are they tryna scare 💀

- Why are they asking her if she’s “been with a normie” that’s so weird

- “THIS LITTLE THING TOOK DOWN THREE BOYS???” HELP

- Her playing with the necklace means everything to me

- Damn the hiker was the third victim

- The sheet music doesn’t match what she was playing but that doesn’t rly matter

- Love that enid went from disgusted to things bff

- Their roof scene is so meaningful to me. They work so well together. Enid doesn’t need anyone but Wednesday and Wednesday doesn’t need anyone but Enid. Enid teaches her how to relate to others and feel empathy and Wednesday teaches Enid to unapologetically be herself.

- Nero :(

- Them bonding is so cute 😭 this is rekindling my obsession

- Notice the immediate disrespect from Tyler but Enid gets close with thing so quickly

- Damn Enid is suspicious. Bro has some killer instincts

- “Hint taken” and Xavier proceeds to KEEP talking to her

- So Wednesday gives Tyler a time and place and you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that those three pilgrims show up at that exact time at place? Literally there WAITING? No way. Tyler had to have told them, sorry about it.

- I lowkey feel bad for Weems. She’s a little controversial but she was just trying to do her best for nevermore

- Nah man that was an absolute ploy. There’s no way they just happened to know where to be. Tyler was trying to keep her from leaving. He already knew who she was by then and that they needed her.

- Rowan was so conflicted he didn’t deserve to die. He was just trying to protect people

- The way she scrambled over to him even after he tried to kill her :(

- YALL I LOVE THIS SHOW WTF 😭

[tiredmetalenthusiast]

I want you, I love you (SimonxF!reader)

Here’s one for @glitterypirateduck’s challenge for our big boy Simon! I used 7.”Accidental confession” and 25.”Ghost and reader have to dress up for an event”.

Warning: Language.

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t want to go. He hated going to Galas or really any event where money and politics were being discussed, the big spenders and supporters of the military with their almost carbon copy wives. He hated having to pretend that he cared about what the old men were talking to him about, asking always how many men he’s killed for “the greater good”. Ignoring their salacious wives’ advances to simply walk off to the bar or track down Johnny.

That was before you though. You, who somehow wormed your way into his head and his heart, long since thought cold and dead.

You’d been with the team for 2 years now, seamlessly integrating yourself into their everyday. Formed a fast friendship with Gaz and Johnny, looked to Price for guidance, and never shied away from talking to Ghost himself like you’d known him for ages.

He approved of your snarky attitude and the way you operated on the field, watching his back (and saving his ass a couple times), being able to hold your own in a fight. He still goes back to the day he watched you take down Price, a man twice your size and weight, he’d never been hotter under the collar.

Now as he gazes blankly into the abyss thinking of you, ignoring the droning of the old man and his idiotically annoying wife, he catches sight of deep, sparkling blue fabric. His eyes trailed the fabric up to strings of black pearls clinging to curvy, plush hips. Up higher to more pearls hanging and clinging to a soft stomach and ample breasts, shoulders bare save for a black fur coat.

A low whistle came from his left, Johnny showing up from the corner of his eye. ”Well, never thought I’d see the day we got to see Bonnie all dressed up.” “Don’t even think about it Mactavish.” Johnny chuckled, “Aye not looking to die tonight L.T. Would nae make a move on your woman.”

”Oh are we giving Simon shit about his crush?” “Fuck off Garrick.” Gaz chuckled and patted Simon’s shoulder, “Aw Simon, give it a rest. You’ve been drooling over the bloody woman for the whole 2 years she’s been with us.” Simon looked down before following your figure again, glaring at any man that even dared to approach you, let alone try to flirt with you. You were popular among the male recruits unfortunately.

”Are ye gonna tell ‘er?” “No. Best not to.” The three men shook their heads and rolled their eyes, “Simon, I’m gonna give it to you straight.” “I expect nothing less.” “Stop being a bloody fucking muppet and go talk to that poor woman before you actually lose her to a worse muppet.” He turned to stare at Price in disbelief.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Migraine?” He looked up to find you holding out a glass of bourbon to him as you take a sip of your own and sit. He gladly takes the glass, moving his mask to take a sip. “Always luv. Never stops when you’re around idiots all day.” You laughed and shook your head, “Aw Johnny’s not that bad L.T.” “Not talkin ‘bout Johnny sweetheart.” “Mmm, the recruits giving you a hard time?” “Bloody infants. Every single one of ‘em.”

His heart sang with joy at the sound of your full laugh,  he tried his hardest not to stare but he couldn’t help it. You were so beautiful. “Hahaha tell me about it. They complain so much about literally everything. Gets annoying havin to hear it day in and day out.” He nods in agreement. The silence stretched on for a bit as you both took sips of your drinks. “Care to dance? You’re the only one I haven’t danced with yet.”

”Don’t dance luv.” “Can’t be any worse than Johnny. He tried to dip me and I almost fell.” Simon chuckled at the image of Johnny doing just that, the image making him grin under the mask. “We don’t have to. Just wanted to dance with someone that didn’t wanna stare at my chest or comment on my body.” “Shameless pigs. You deserve a proper dance then.” He watches you excitedly put your drink down and link your arm with him.

It was then he got a whiff of your perfume, light and delicious with a touch of cinnamon and vanilla. Your arm and hands were warm warped around his arm and he puffed up when you subconsciously groped his bicep and laid your head on it.

The two of you danced for a few songs, you leading him slowly. As the last song ended he found your face flushed and hair a bit disheveled. Eyes bright and lovely, smile radiant against your glowing skin. “You’re so beautiful luv. I want you.” ‘Fuck’. Your eyes widened as you looked up into his. “W-what?” Simon sighs, he’s done it now.

”I want you, lovie. I want your body, your smiles, your laughter. Want all your love for myself everyday. I love you.” He watched your face, anxiously waiting for your answer. A smile spread across your features and you giggled, “Took you long enough Simon.” “That mean I can kiss you now?” You nodded, smile wide as he lifted his mask slightly, arm sliding around your waist, a hand at the back of your head.

The kiss was passionate, all consuming, and delicious. Ghost never wanted to part from your lips, but the look of love shining in your eyes made him happy he did. “Wanna get out of here?” “Fuck yes. Tired of these pompous assholes.” Somewhere close by Gaz, Price, and Johnny look on, happy for Simon.

[kosagum]

“you know, i like you a lot more than you realize,” you mumble.

you feel your world start to sway due to the copious amount of shots you took. your vertigo is relieved by the gentle breeze coming from the window of your apartment, where you are lying down on your boyfriend’s lap.

slowly you peer up at him, meeting choso’s intense gaze. you quickly tear your eyes from his and start to study the couch next to you.

choso has always looked at you with so much adoration. he’ll completely stop what he’s doing to just look at you with a dopey, boyish grin on his face. the same one that always makes you attack him with kisses whenever you catch it.

you still feel his eyes on you.

“stop staring at me—”

“you’re so beautiful.”

“mm.”

you keep your eyes away from his as you now search for something else to look at, landing on the assortment of drinks you two scattered on your table. you thought it would be fun to have some drinks in the comfort of your own home. choso loved the idea and made an entire night of it.

he’s always been so thoughtful. choso does little things like making sure you’ve eaten, checking on you after work, paying for you. but you’ll never forget when he stayed with you the entire day after you bombed one of your finals, constantly doting on you, bringing you your favorite foods, and buying you gifts when you were too distraught to do anything besides lay there and cry.

you thought you could marry that man right then and there.

he never shies away from showing you his true love and affection for you, no matter how nervous he may feel. you don’t have as easy a time showing your love for him as he does, and it weighs on you.

choso hums back and strokes your cheek, “i know you like me, i never doubted it for a second.”

“i know, but i just feel like i never show it the same way you do. i always act so embarrassed and barely reciprocate it back,” you slur as you look up at choso with furrowed brows. “i don’t know. if you did that to me, i would be soooo sad.”

choso gently tries to smooth your forehead so you’re relaxed again. he finds himself wondering where this is even coming from; he hasn’t once questioned your love for him. he understands that you don’t find expressing yourself as simple as he does; everyone just has different ways of expressing themselves.

“you just have a more reserved way of showing it—”

“no! that’s not an excuse,” you interject. “i know i shy away from the touches you give me sometimes, but don’t think it’s because i don’t like you. i’ve just never done this before.”

you finally look back up at choso, feeling your cheeks become warm.

“you’re such a natural, and i’m kinda just… flailing around. i sometimes feel so stupid. but that isn’t an excuse! i adore you so much, so so so much, choso.”

choso feels a grin escaping him, but tries to keep it together. he relieves himself by kissing your forehead.

“listen chocho, the moment you came into my life, i actually felt myself starting to enjoy it. every time you reach for my hand in public, i feel like absolute shit for pulling my hand away. or when you try to give me a kiss. i wanna love you so outwardly and loudly, don’t think i don’t!” you hiccup. “there are times where i wanna yell, ‘i miss my boyfriend!’ in the middle of work. there are other times when i just wanna start twirling around singing, ‘he likes me! he likes meeee!’”

choso feels his heart fill when hearing your words. despite him never mistaking your shyness for disinterest, it still felt amazing to know you love him as much as he loves you.

“even when i dodge your affections, you still look at me like i’m the only person to exist. and i don’t know how you do it cause i would be sulking if i was in your position,” you giggle.

like clockwork, choso looks down at you with that same lovesick look he always gives you, his face red from a mixture of your drinks and the deep love he holds for you.

even in his inebriated state, he knows he’s going to remember this for his entire life. he’ll make sure you’ll remember this too.

his hand delicately traces over your face and your features. his eyes wander all over, trying to sear the image of you lying in his lap into his head. he closes them and places his forehead onto yours, staying like that for a moment before moving to kiss you on the lips.

the kiss is filled with so much tenderness and affection you both practically become one, trying to quell the giggles threatening to release themselves from between your lips. his hands slowly find yours, and he interlocks your fingers together as he deepens the kiss.

he doesn’t want to let this moment go. but he hesitantly pulls back, feeling himself starting to run out of air.

you smile to yourself, beginning to question why you thought choso would ever doubt you. before you could delve too deep into those thoughts, you feel choso barrage your face with kisses, ending each one with a cute “muah!” you laugh, trying to escape, but choso holds you in place.

after you both catch your breaths, he snorts, “chocho?”

“what? you don’t like it?”

“i love it actually, just like i love you.”

“ah—” feeling your face heat up, you turn away from him. but this time, you feel choso softly pull your face to look at his.

realizing you can’t escape, you draw one of choso’s hands back into yours and slowly weave your fingers into his once again, bringing his hand to your face and drawing it closer to your lips. giving the back of it feather kisses, you look up at choso and feel whatever anxiety you had disappear.

“i love you too.”

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

lil joel x reader drabble

sexual tension and some nudity. we all know what's coming next.

Okay but what if you don't really know Jackson!Joel, you just nod at him whenever you pass him by in the street (because that's what you do in Jackson), and you know nothing about him except what everybody knows: he walked all the way there with the girl, he's lethal, he's Tommy's brother, he's fucking dangerous, but when he looks at Ellie he smiles, and when she reads him puns from that book of hers he laughs, and it's the sound of someone who has longed to laugh for many, many years.

So one day he delivers something to your door. I don't really know what, maybe soup or something, and when you accept it, your fingers touch, and you lose your grip for a moment, and you spill it all over his plaid and jeans.

"Shit, oh shit, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking clumsy!"

"Don't worry about it, no harm done."

"Dammit, it's all over your clothes!"

"It's okay."

"I'm really sorry!"

And somehow he ended up inside your house, carrying the pot or whatever to the kitchen, where he puts it down, before assessing the damage. He takes off the plaid, and the t-shirt underneath is fine.

"Gimme that, I'll clean it for you."

"You really don't have to."

"I want to," you stress. "It was my fault. Come on, jeans too."

He has already handed you the plaid, but now he's shaking his head.

"Joel, I insist. Go home, get changed, bring me back the jeans."

"I only have this one pair."

"All the more reason for me to clean them!" you point out as you turn your back and go to the sink, turning on the water and putting down the plaid. "Come on now, you think I haven't seen a guy in his undies before?"

You try to make your voice light, but you know you failed. It has been a long time since you last saw a man in his undies, and a man like Joel Miller...

You hear him taking off his boots, then the rustle of his jeans, finally the belt buckle hitting the floor with a low thunk. When you turn around to accept the pants, you stop still.

Except for the t-shirt and socks, he's naked. The hem of the shirt just about covers the little round of his belly, and you can very plainly see the dark hair running down between his legs, where his cock and balls hang snugly against the mass of hair.

You gulp, and realize that you have stared at his crotch for longer than is considered polite. When you meet his gaze, you see that he is teasing you. He's not even holding the jeans in front of his crotch, oh no, his hand is resting comfortably at his side.

"You do realize that I can't go out like this?" he asks you in a low voice that makes the hairs at the nape of your neck stand up. You nod, stupefied.

"And that I'll have to wait here until my pants are dry?"

You nod again. He takes a couple of steps towards you, and hands you the jeans. You accept them, hand trembling slightly, and turn around quickly to shove the jeans into the sink, along with the plaid. You look for the soap, the drain stopper, and splash water on the floor.

"You need any help?"

Joel is suddenly right behind you, startling you as one of his hands come to rest on your waist.

"I'm good," you manage.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll just let these soak..."

You turn off the water, and take a deep breath. Okay, here goes.

Slowly, you turn around, your hip grazing his cock that doesn't seem to limp anymore. Joel takes a step closer, trapping you between himself and the sink.

"They gotta soak for a while," you tell him quietly, before clearing your throat. "For quite a while, in fact."

He smirks, and leans in to press his lips against yours.

[hauntedhokage]

PART 12: Early Mornings

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You enjoy morning coffee with Bakugou, making some plans for future days. 

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

It’s always difficult to pull yourself away from Eijirou after long nights of socializing. He was a talented extrovert but events like that always exhausted him, making him clingier than usual when you went to bed and impossible to wake up the following morning. You remembered curling up on the couch with Eijirou after showering and changing, and must have dozed off while Katsuki was in the shower because you woke up in Katsuki’s bed with Eijirou while the blonde was nowhere in sight. It was interesting that you’d ended up here, but not surprising. Keeping his babygirls together was important to Eijirou, and Katsuki had the bigger bed, so it was the natural spot to collect. 

Rolling out of the bed was difficult, the strong arms kept trying to pull you back into the bed until you eventually broke away from them and landed somewhat gracefully on your feet. The pathetic sleep whine that leaves him is quickly muffled by him rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow that you’d left behind. It’s tempting to curl back up around him and get another hour or so of sleep, but there’s a conversation that you’d like to have with Katsuki  without your shared boyfriend hovering around with a shit eating grin on his face.

And you find the blonde in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee pot and pouring what looked to be a second mug of coffee. 

“Morning,” you greet softly, closing the distance between you as he nods his own greeting. 

“I thought you’d be up soon, so I made more coffee. I just don’t know how you like yours, and didn’t want to make it something you wouldn’t like.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, and you explain how you like your coffee as you fix it to your specifications. He's taking mental notes, you know him too well at this point to think otherwise, and you try to move with enough space that he can see what you’re doing. 

“C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of the living room, and you follow him from the kitchen but continue out to the balcony, not missing him grabbing the blanket left on the couch on his way. 

The bench on the patio was large enough to fit three people, but you sit close to Katsuki and are grateful for the blanket that he puts over both of your laps when the cold morning air settles on your skin. You don’t know quite what to say, but you feel comfortable enough to trust that you didn’t have to say anything - just being beside him in this moment was enough. To have him invite you to share this personal time meant a lot, but you know they’d tell you that you were putting too much on it. 

“How’s your wrist feeling?”

“Much better. I think your kisses might double as a painkiller.” He’s exaggerating, but you’re glad to hear that he wasn’t in as much pain as he had been last night. “Your feet okay? You were walking kinda stiff towards the end.”

“Those shoes suck, but I’m good now.”

He nods, and you both take a drink of your coffee in near unison while continuing to stare out at the skyline you could see from the balcony. 

“Thank you for fixing my shirt,” you finally comment after a couple moments of quiet, looking over to see those amber eyes fixated on you. “You didn’t have to, especially after the way I yelled at you that day. That wasn’t very kind of me, and I’m sorry for treating you like that.”

“No, I deserved a lot of that. I didn’t explain myself well enough, and made you feel like shit because of it and that wasn’t fair to you. You’ve always been enough, y’know? For him, and-” he pauses, his free hand carefully coming to rest on your cheek as his own tint a soft pink - because of the cold weather, you’re sure. “And for me, too. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”

You know better than to ask if he means it, the one thing Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do was say things he didn’t mean to make people feel better. 

“Do you want to do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us?” The question doesn’t feel surprising coming from him, but the way his hand stayed on your cheek certainly was. It was warm though, you weren’t going to complain. 

“Like a date?”

“We can keep it friendly, if you want.”

“Is that what you want?” It wasn’t, and he knows by the look on your face that you knew the answer too. “Because I’d like for it to be more than just friendly.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, gently pulling his hand from your face to hold in your own as you murmur, “Last night was a lot of fun, and I’d love to spend more time with you.”

He only nods, and you know he’s not going to say anything soft in return at this point so you’re happy to just sit in silence with him. It was still comfortable, and that was what mattered most to you as you continued drinking your coffee. 

“I talked to Deku about your idea for how we can stop fight night before it starts next year. We both think a sanctioned tournament similar to how UA had the sports festival would decrease a considerable amount of the activity on the streets.”

You don’t remember when you’d talked to Katsuki about that, which leads you to believe that he’d listened to one of your rambles about crime reduction tactics or maybe Eijirou had said something about it. Either way it felt incredibly validating to hear that three of the top five pros thought that you were onto something and would possibly take your idea higher up.

“Most of the arrested parties had no known gang affiliation, it just makes sense to provide some outlet for people to let the edge off and get paid for it if they do well.”

“The research you did on that was very detailed. I didn’t think you had the energy for that between your own work and taking care of us.”

“You read through my research?”

“You left it out and I was curious. You were really going to take that to the Hero Commission?”

“The Commission, the Mayor of Tokyo, maybe even see if the Prime Minister’s office would at least look at it. It’s unnecessarily dangerous for the city and the people in it, and the heroes working to stop it. Last year was bad, this year was worse, and it’s only going to escalate unless something is done to address it.” The way he was looking at you was something you don’t think you’d experienced directed at you. You’d seen the undivided attention and intent thinking face be directed at Eijirou, marveling at how your boyfriend didn’t crack under the pressure of the blonde’s intense gaze, but to have it directed at you made you realize just why Eijirou handled it so well. Being on the receiving end didn’t make you feel small, or as if he was trying to pick apart your argument - in fact, you felt the opposite. The way he looked at you made you feel like you could kick in the door to the Prime Minister’s office with no consequences, you even felt like he’d help. 

“You care a lot about this. For the city and the people in it.”

“We’ve seen the country fall apart before due to unchecked quirk aggression, I’d hate to live through that twice.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, carefully pulling your now empty mug from your hands to sit on the table beside the bench. “But I doubt you want to talk about work on your day off.”

“I don’t mind it, I like talking to you.”

“When we go out tomorrow night, no work talk.”

“What’s the penalty if we slip up?” 

“I’m sure we can come up with something agreeable for us both.”

You nod at that before turning as movement catches your eye from the other side of the window. Eijirou had finally rolled out of bed, bright red hair a mess as he slowly moved around the living room looking for something. It only takes a second for Katsuki to catch on to what you’d seen, and he watches with the same fond smile you wear as you both watch your boyfriend try to figure out where his lovers had gone. 

“Let’s go save him from his misery,” Katsuki suggests, and you nod your agreement while letting him help you up from your seat. The blanket is carefully wrapped around your shoulders before he grabs the empty coffee mugs and leads you inside. He offers to cook breakfast while letting Eijirou steal a couple needy kisses, then it’s your turn to be needily kissed on and cuddled while Katsuki sets to work. 

“Can’t believe you left me, baby.”

“We’d never leave you,” you mumble into his neck, placing a gentle kiss to the warm skin as footsteps pad across the living room floor. “Never ever.”

“You were together?”

“Mhm, just on the balcony. Never too far from our baby Eiji.” Your assurance is met with a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel your body rock with Eijirou’s as Katsuki gently nudges him while telling you there was more coffee on the side table for you. 

It’s a few minutes before you’re given the room you need to actually drink the coffee Katsuki had brought out to you, so it’s colder than you would have preferred, but you’re amazed at the fact that he’d made it perfect for you. He was good, much better than you were at paying attention to details like that and committing them to memory so quickly. 

But he definitely cared a lot about getting things right. 

[featherandferns]

Prompt 2 with angst

2. I blame you for this.

I lost the original ask (which was from ages ago - sorry!) but they added extra information along this line: JJ cheated by ‘accident’ and wants reader to forgive but having hard time trusting. Fluff ending, possible smut.

a mistake - prompt 2

JJ is hot on your tail as you storm into the chateau. You can’t believe he followed you back. Can’t believe he had the nerve to. No, not the nerve. The audacity. 

“Baby, come on! We can just talk about this!”

“Talk about it?” you echo. Spinning around, you can’t help but laugh humourlessly. “What the hell is there to talk about?”

JJ falters in his step. You watch as he swallows, slow and thick, and you shake your head, lips down turning into a painful, deep frown. 

“JJ. You slept with another woman.”

You’re surprised you keep yourself from gaping in shock when he raises a finger, pointing at you accusingly. 

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t say it like that! Like I cheated on you or some shit!”

Another laugh bubbles up through you. You’d never been good with shock. Some people freeze, some people cry, and some people laugh and cackle and grin. The whole situation is so absurd to you, so far from what you could ever imagine, that it doesn’t feel real. 

“You did!”

“We were on a break!”

“You think you’re getting out of this on a technicality?”

“I think it’s an important dissertation,” he loudly replies. 

You grit your teeth, eyes narrowing. “It’s distinction, and no, it is not.”

You want as much space between you as possible. He could be on another continent and it still wouldn’t be far enough. The thought of having him near you, having him talk to you- it all just makes you feel sick to your stomach. Storming into the hallway and into John B’s (thankfully empty bedroom), you go to shut the door. JJ forces it open, stronger than you. Tears begin to sting your eyes. Why can’t he just leave it alone? 

“Look, can you just try to understand things from my perspective?” JJ says, the anger morphing into desperation. 

You stare at him, lips parted. He takes your silence as cause to continue. 

“I thought you’d left me forever, and I was spinning out, and freaking, and didn’t know what to do.”

“So you fell into another girl’s bed?”

“It was a month later!” JJ snaps, throwing his arms up. “You hadn’t spoke to me for a month!”

The thing is, you and JJ had a rather dysfunctional relationship. Neither of you had very good role models growing up of what a healthy, happy romance looked like: your dad had cheated too many times to count on your mom, and JJ’s mom and dad were a nightmare before the former up and left. That meant codependency and challenge and combativity. I’m not happy if you’re not happy, and you’re never fucking happy type beats. So, you finally broke. You told him that you both needed a break and some space to think. And now it seems that whilst you were actually trying to reflect and work on yourself, JJ had been getting his yips from other chicks on the island. Beneath all the anger and rage, you were breaking inside. Since JJ admitted it after a more than bizarre interaction with some brunette at a kegger, all you can picture is her lips on his neck, and his hands on her figure, and their writhing, sweaty bodies intertwined…Your stomach is sick. 

Finally, the tears begin to fall. Your heart shatters as you let out a shaking breath. JJ’s own face crumbles with that. He closes the distance between you, grabbing for your arms and hands, refusing to back down until you relent. 

“It was a mistake. It meant nothing, okay? And I know jackasses always say that, and it’s a cheap line, and it sounds like a cop-out, but I swear on my ma’s grave that it’s true. I swear on my fucking life.”

Your lip quivers. You can’t help but look up at JJ. Darling, sweet, troubled JJ. You knew him almost as well as you knew yourself. And as you stared up at him, you knew he was telling the truth. Maybe some might say that you were being wishful, or too forgiving, or running back to a bad thing…But you’d seen JJ lie plenty of times to know when he was being honest. To you, the difference was as clear as night and day.

JJ tries to steal himself. His voice is quiet, vulnerable, prepared for rejection, when he speaks. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

“I blame you for this,” you hear yourself say. You’re not entirely sure what you by it. Blame him for cheating? For making you walk away? For making it so hard for you to say no, here and now? 

His eyes slip shut, ready for the final blow. You can see him mentally preparing to depart from your life forever. 

But no. 

No. 

Slipping your hands up, cupping his face with each palm, you lovingly stroke a finger over his damp cheek. At the tender action, JJ forces his eyes open. 

“But I don’t know who I am without you either.”

[kanbockoida]

Third time’s the charm

Adam x fem!Reader x Lucifer

Warnings: none<3

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Masterlist

Arriving home, the couple had two very different moods. Adam had a smug look on his face, chest swelling with pride. He felt as if he had won the entirety of this petty fight. “The nerve of that guy, am I right?” Adam scoffed, turning to look at his wife with that very same, smug expression.

He was expecting her to be happy, since he practically just saved her from Lucifer’s advances. However, the sight he was met with was not a pretty one. His wife wore a nasty glare on her face, arms crossed over her chest as she stared right into his eyes. “Care to tell me what that was about?” Y/N forced out her words as nicely as she could, yet a hint of anger was still heard. Adam only stared at the woman with a confused expression, clearly not understanding what his wife was hinting at.

“What do you mean? The meeting went fine, did it not?” He hummed, dismissing his wife’s concerns as he took off his mask, placing it on its usual spot in their home. Y/N’s face reddened in anger, hands clenching to regulate it. “The thing you said? ‘I swear on my wife’?” She spat at him. Y/N has never been this angry before. Her husband only blinked, staring at her like a deer in headlights.

He really didn’t have a clue..

Suddenly, it seemed like it clicked for him. However, he seemed extremely defensive. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. It was a joke, there’s nothing wrong with trying to joke around. You’re my wife, not his.” He shrugged, simply walking past her, upstairs to their shared bedroom. The shorter woman stormed after him, eyebrows still furrowed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you even aware of the severity of that situation, Adam? You swore on me! You made a deal with Lucifer.” Word after word poured out of her mouth, trying to make Adam see that he was wrong, that he had messed up big time.

Adam spun around, cutting his wife off with a sharp glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “God, don’t make a scene out of this! It was a joke. I’m sure nothing bad is going to happen!” Never had he ever raised his voice at his wife, but the trauma he suffered because of his ex-wives caused him to act irrationally, even though his current wife gave him no reason to not trust her.

His hard-headedness made her snap in a way. He was selfish for only thinking of himself during this whole interaction and the situation itself. What about her? Does she mean nothing to him?

“You’re a spineless coward, Adam! You sold me off to Lucifer with those words you said earlier! You’ve condemned me to an eternity of torment if you even make a slight mistake during the next extermination! I thought we trusted each other more than anything, did my love mean nothing to you?! I curse the day I was created for you, you despicable excuse of a husband!” Her words stung like sharp knives, stabbing into his heart with precision over and over again. For the first time in forever, the first man was silent. Usually, he always had something to say, especially at a time like this to protect his ego from being bruised. Now?

He’d even go as far as saying his wife was right.

“Little flower, I-” He was immediately cut off by Y/N, not having any of it. “You do not have the right to be calling me that now.” She scowled, sending him one last, nasty glare before retreating into their shared bedroom. Adam wasn’t expecting a simple meeting to result in him fighting with his wife. Alarm bells immediately went off in his brain when he saw his wife angrily stuffing clothes into a bag. Shit, was she actually leaving him?

A panicked expression made its way onto the man’s face as he rushed towards his wife worriedly, trying to take her hands in his, yet to no avail. “Honey- what are you doing? Please don’t do what I think you’re doing!” His voice was wavering, his entire body seemingly filling up with dread. He was afraid. Afraid of his beloved leaving him. Afraid of his past repeating itself once more.

The woman stopped for a moment, a sigh leaving her body. She was an idiot. An idiot for loving that buffoon of a man. She zipped up her bag, turning to look at Adam with an almost emotionless face. Deep inside, she felt the same pain her husband felt.

Their hearts were still one and the same, after all.

“I’m not leaving you. I just need some.. space. I love you so much Adam, but this whole situation is really getting to me.” She might love him, but she still needed space. Lightly throwing the bag over her shoulder, the angel straightened her posture. “I’ll see you, Adam.”

Y/N looked at her husband, her eyes being the only thing showing emotion were her eyes. With a now dejected expression, Y/N quickly walked past her beloved. She couldn’t bear looking into his eyes. Whenever they had a little quarrel, Adam always used his eyes to his advantage.

Adam stared after his wife, feeling as if he had lost everything in such a short amount of time.

In the entirety of Heaven, Y/N only had one true friend, which just so happened to be the head Seraphim. Sera took her in without a second thought, tending to her broken heart, listening to all her worries and problems.

“Come, now. You will be fine, I am sure of it. You and Adam are one. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed in serious situations, but now that he realized his mistake, I’m sure he will be extra careful during the exterminations.” Sera always managed to calm Y/N down, the motherly tone in her voice being the main cause of that. The heartbroken woman sighed, pulling her wings further around her body to make it look like she was hiding in a cocoon. “I know, Sera.. but that doesn’t change the fact that he did it.” Whined Y/N, a soft groan of frustration leaving her right after. Sera gave a small yet sad smile, feeling the woman’s pain. Putting a hand on her back, the head Seraphim tried her best to be a supportive friend. She was aware that Y/N hasn’t felt strong emotions like these before, since there never was a reason to feel like this.

A few days had passed ever since Adam’s and Y/N’s fight, and the angel has been staying with Sera. Even though she has been feeling horrible, Y/N still decided to work, maybe more than usual. Sera had informed her about yet another small meeting with the King of Hell who requested to discuss the numbers in small detail. Y/N was a little surprised, yet of course she agreed to it. In her eyes, Lucifer had the right to know the exact numbers. Gathering everything, the woman hummed a calm tune. There were a lot of documents that reached back many, many centuries.

Arriving at the same place as last time, Y/N took a seat somewhere near where Lucifer sat last time so they could review the documents better. To her however, it was quite weird that the Morningstar had requested this meeting.. Doesn’t he have access to these numbers as well, since it’s Sinners that are getting killed? The woman shrugged, dismissing that thought immediately. There has to be more to it, she was so sure of it.

After a few moments of waiting silently, the huge doors to the room swung open, revealing the very man she was expecting to see, dressed in the same suit as last time. Their eyes met, the familiar feeling enveloping their hearts, just like last time. It felt.. fulfilling, but neither of them could figure out how to properly explain that feeling. “Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to see you again!” Y/N sent him a tiny smile, her mood lifting just a bit. Lucifer’s smile was genuine, even if it seemed.. distraught. “Please, I told you last time Lucifer is just fine. I assume you are aware why I asked Sera to send you?” The question rolled off his tongue so smoothly, the nervousness he had seemingly disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The angel blinked a couple of times, trying to process his quick question. When her brain processed it appropriately, she nodded her head. “I received the information that you wanted to discuss the numbers of past exterminations, correct?” The woman asked, head tilting to the side as a force of habit. Lucifer let out a nervous laugh once more, trying to figure out what he should say next. “Well! Technically it’s.. worse?” He shrugged, eyes darting everywhere around the room. His reaction made her freeze, confusion clouding her brain in an instant. What did he mean with worse? Y/N’s gaze spoke louder than a thousand words, Lucifer going on to explain what he meant. “Has Adam told you.. anything at all?” Asked the Morningstar, to which the woman slowly shook her head, feeling her hands getting clammy. What could he be hinting at?

“He’s moving up the extermination, as discussed with Sera. I noticed you weren’t present during the meeting, so my first guess was that you.. weren’t let in on the plan?” With every word, Y/N’s heart dropped further. Why would Adam go behind her back like this? And Sera? She couldn’t believe her ears. Her husband kept a secret this big? “They.. what? What do you mean they moved up the extermination?” A panicked expression formed on her face, staring at Lucifer as if demanding answers.

“What I mean is the next extermination is in six months, and I thought I’d let you know just in case. Judging by your reaction I take it you had no idea.” Lucifer seemed.. worried. But in Y/N’s panicked state she didn’t realize it.

“No! I had no idea!” Her voice sounded terrified and angry all at the same time, not understanding what was going on. The angel’s mind seemed.. scrambled.

Betrayal, sharp and biting, pierced through the serenity of her celestial being, leaving behind a hollow ache where trust once resided. Each word felt similar to a haunting melody of deception that shattered the harmonious symphony of their union. In her eyes, once pools of boundless trust and compassion, now flickered a tempest of sorrow and disbelief. Deep inside Y/N felt as if she had no right to be feeling this way. No matter how hard she tried to make it stop, it failed.

For an angel, whose essence was woven from purity and truth, this revelation was a dagger plunged deep into the core of her being, leaving behind only the ruins of a love once cherished, now tarnished by the stain of betrayal.

In the aftermath of the revelation, the angel's wings, once radiant with celestial light, now drooped with the weight of her sorrow, their majestic feathers dulled by the shadows of betrayal. Her celestial grace faltered, stumbling amidst the ruins of her shattered trust, each step heavy with the burden of disbelief and anguish. Slowly, the woman turned her head to look at Lucifer, and the look in her eyes reminded him of himself.

Despair. Anguish. This was the only way he could describe this. He felt horrible for laying this on her, but she had a right to know, as it was her husband creating plans behind her back without even thinking of telling her. The last time he had seen her, which wasn’t even two weeks prior, her eyes were so full of life and joy. He felt as if he were to blame for taking it aways, being the bearer of bad news in this situation.

A new thought quickly nested itself into Lucifer’s mind..

Why was he even telling her this?

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Shadow

Amelie saves Rolan from the shadows and then gives him a piece of her mind. SFW.

“Wait, is that Rolan? I thought he had better sense than that.” Gale said with an eyeroll as the group consisting of himself, Amelie, Shadowheart, and Karlach found him surrounded by two shadow-fiends.

Fuck.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

ROLAN, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!

It was a smaller battle than the one that just occurred at Last Light, but it still left all but Karlach with almost no spell slots left.

But that was of no consequence to Amelie.

ROLAN!!!

She hurried down the small hill, rushing towards him and Shadowheart. Please let him be okay. Please. Please.

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right---not a damn thing.”

“You’re supposed to be at Last Light.” She panted, staring at him like he’s mad because he is. WHAT THE FUCK?!

“I’m supposed to be saving Cal and Lia! Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”

Biting back the urge to ask why her “of all bloody people”, she shook her head. “You were trying to help your family---you’re too hard on yourself.”

“Or not enough.”

The acid in his voice made her heart sink a little.

“I’ve failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way---I’ll return to Last Light…I know when I’m outmatched.”

Within moments, he was gone.

And Amelie had an urge to return to Last Light to give him a piece of her mind. “Let’s head back and get some more healing potions…then I need a long rest.”

“You and me both.” Gale snarked, stretching his back. “Gods, adventuring is not kind on the back, knees, and hips.”

The women laughed and nicely teased the wizard.

But her mind was preoccupied with another wizard.

***

“You can’t leave me alone, can you?” Rolan spat at Amelie, who after a quick bath and a change of clothes, found him at the bar and sat next to him. The children and most everyone else are in bed, so we’re kind of alone. Alone-ish. “Going to tell me I shouldn’t be drowning my sorrows?”

“I think,” she began carefully as she poured herself some water. “You should stay hydrated after drinking so much alcohol, Rolan.” She then grabbed a second glass and poured him some. “Here you go.”

He slammed the bottle on the counter, startling her. “I don’t need you pitying me. Haven’t you done enough?”

Something inside her snapped.

She turned suddenly and grabbed him by the shoulders to face him towards her. “You listen to me, you arrogant shit. That little stunt you pulled earlier could’ve fucking killed you. We are fucked, Rolan. We are so incredibly fucked, but I need you to stay here and stay safe, because I cannot lose another godsdamned person I lo—” Amelie shut her mouth and felt tears in her eyes. I lost Da. My mentor. One of my best friends. Uncle Ned. This journey has been nothing but death around every corner. Not you too. “I care about. So please, I am begging you, stay here.” She bit back a sob. “Please, Rolan. Please.” Before she knew it, her face was in her hands, her body wracked with sobs.

She did not expect to feel a hand on her head. She also did not expect his other arm to wrap around her thick waist.

“Shh, please don’t cry. I’ll have the bloody water, you damnable woman.” He grumbled, and Amelie could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll stay, but you must…you must get them back safe and sound, do you understand?”

Nodding, she sniffled as she lifted her head.

She did not expect to see what many would describe as a touching look on his face as he handed her a handkerchief. “Now, dry your tears. A young lady such as yourself shouldn’t be crying over me.”

As she wiped her tears, she stopped for a moment and blinked. “Why?”

The question dumbfounded him. Well and truly. “Why what?”

“Why shouldn’t I cry over you?” She placed the handkerchief on the counter and stared at nothing across the bar. Because you’re wonderful and I like you… “You’ve survived being in the Hells all while keeping Cal and Lia alive and well. You stayed at the Grove, even when you so desperately wanted to leave…all to protect them. Because you stayed, the children are alive. They’re alive, Rolan. Because of you. You even did quite possibly the most stupid thing ever by venturing into the Shadow Curse by yourself because of your love for your siblings.” Turning her head suddenly, she once again faced him, a desperate look on her face. “How could I not cry over a person like that? Of course, I would…and have cried over you.” She offered him a tired smile. “I should go to bed. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer.” As Amelie rose from the stool, Rolan also stood, as stiff and awkward as they come. But so adorable. “Goodnight, Rolan.”

He watched her trudge towards the staircase (I was given a room last night at Isobel’s request) and squeezed his eyes shut. “Why is tomorrow going to be long?”

Without looking back at him, she sighed. “Because we’re going to Moonrise Towers tomorrow, and I intend to find and free the prisoners.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’ll get them back. I promise.” No matter what. Make sure Shadowheart has Sanctuary prepared.

“I want to believe you,” he said softly. “I need to believe you.”

Amelie, more quickly than he thought considering how tired she was, descended the stairs and hugged him. Yeah, I did it. I needed to do it. And he needed it. So it’s fine. Rolan stood (somehow more awkwardly) but after a minute or two he wrapped his arms around the half-elf. “What does your heart say?” She whispered, holding him gently.

“I-I don’t—”

“Don’t think. What does your heart say, Rolan?”

He finally relaxed and shared in her embrace. “They will be back safe and sound. I trust…I believe in you.”

Never in a thousand years did Rolan expect her lips to briefly touch his cheek before she blushed and went upstairs to her room.

And the next day, some time in the late afternoon, Cal and Lia arrived at Last Light.

After thanking her profusely, his heart leaped at a realization that hit him like the metaphorical ton of bricks as she greeted one of her companions.

He was in love with Lady Amelie Wildheart.

[steviewashere]

Take Care of Me (Sodomy) 🔞Minors DNI🔞

Rating: ExplicitCW: Under-Negotiated Kinks, Slight Dub-Con (Unsure But to Be Safe), Physical Fight, Blood, InjuryTags: Enemies to Lovers, Enemies is too Harsh (But they ain't friends), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Making Up, Steve Harrington is a Mess, Eddie Munson Just Wants to Help, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Mean Eddie Munson, Mean Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Dom/Sub Undertones, Angry Sex, Rough Sex, Pain Kink, Painplay?, Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Emotional Sex, Tender Sex, Crying During Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together

Listened to "Violent Pornography" by System of a Down. Then, I thought about those bats that deepen their bond by swapping blood like spit. And then I thought about Steddie having sex after a physical fight. So...this is me trying the thought I had, lol.

Can be read on AO3

🤜—————🤛 Steve’s been independent most of his life.

It was a tactic to survive. If he wanted to see his friends the next day, then he needed to shape up and take care of his mess. Needed to show strength, cleverness, and a level of stealth. Not a great level of stealth, but he needed to be able to brave his surroundings—mask worn, lips tight, body rigid. And he believes he’s done a pretty good.

When he’s tired at work and Robin places a concerned hand on his back, he shrugs her off. Claiming to her that he was up late watching TV, getting too involved in the plot of rerun episodes. She’ll roll her eyes and give him a monotonous task to do, and it’s lying, but he’s saved. Or when he’s tense and a little mean towards Dustin, he goes with the excuse of him getting a call from his dad—not that he’s got a raging migraine and can’t deal with the sun in his eyes through the windshield, and that every sharp corner makes him want to hurl. But he gets away with it all.

At least he thinks he does.

Until Eddie Munson enters his life.

The guy hardly knows him. Gets in his space anyway. Offers to do things. Take the overflowing food off of his plate—that kind of deal. Steve still uses his excuses, though after some time, he notices they waver. That he has to keep insisting for Eddie to believe him, can’t just say it once and get the dude out of his space. He thought he was good at playing hooky when it comes to himself, but it seems that Eddie knows lying—his big cow eyes seem to just stare right through the cracks of Steve’s mask, able to notice every hard crease between his eyebrows and the slight frowning turn of his lips, the heavy circles under his eyes.

He hates it. Hates the way Eddie can see him. Hates the way Eddie seems to know him. Is beginning to hate Eddie a bit in general, even if something lurches in his stomach like the heavy flap of wings. Even if, sometimes, Steve thinks about giving in and giving up and letting Eddie have the reigns. He plays into his excuses more, puts a bigger stretch of space between them, and begins to snap when Eddie asks even the semblance of: “Are you okay?”

——— The next time he sees Eddie, it’s at his own house. He’s been holed away, tired and nightmare-riddled, sweating through his clothes and agitated by the shadows. Has been alone and afraid and aching for somebody there with him, but too cagey to actually ask. And just as he thinks about draining a coffee pot empty to keep himself upright, there’s a knock at his front door.

He didn’t order anything. His parents certainly didn’t order anything, they most likely would’ve left a voicemail on the answering machine. And he didn’t invite anybody over, but of course, when he finally pulls the door open—Eddie’s there.

“What are you—“

“You look like shit,” Eddie bluntly states.

“Gee, thanks,” Steve says dryly. “You can leave now. I’m busy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Busy doing what, exactly? Having a zombie costume party? Maybe setting a new record for how long a human can stay up? Smells like you’re brewing a pot, so it must be the latter.” Steve bristles. Nostrils flaring at Eddie’s sour attitude. “Which is kinda crazy, considering the last time I saw you, I told you to call me if you were having trouble sleeping, didn’t I?”

And, sure, Steve remembers that. The quiet conversation in his kitchen during a movie night. Making popcorn on the stovetop and trying not to pass out, face first, into the hot pan. Eddie’s warm and soothing hand between his shoulder blades, voice soft and careful. “Call me, Stevie,” he had said, “I’ve got all kinds of magic up my sleeves. You’ll be sleeping like a lazy house cat in no time.”

But he keeps the front door wide open. Furrows his eyebrows. Spits, “I don’t need your help. Go away.” Before he can slam it in Eddie’s face, a firm and rather strong hand stops him. Shoving the door wider.

“Afraid I can’t do that, Steve,” Eddie states lowly. “People have been tryin’ to call you. Radio you, too. And we haven’t heard a fucking word from you. So, if you don’t mind—“ And he just walks right in. Shuts the door behind him. Keeps himself pressed against the wood so that Steve can’t open it and shove him out. “—I’m staying. I really don’t like seeing you so…out of it, man. You look thirty seconds away from becoming a heap on the floor.”

Steve scoffs. Steps forward and places a hand on the doorknob, but is immediately thrown off of it by Eddie’s hand on his wrist. “Dude, I don’t need you. Just leave. I’ve got my shit figured out.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. His voice is breathy by Steve’s ear. He raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Tell me, then, Mr. I’ve Got It All Under Control, when’s the last time you’ve slept? And I mean a whole night. Eight hours with your head on the pillow, eyes closed, limp to your bed, and drooling.”

“Like two days ago,” Steve grumbles. “Is that all you wanted? Because you can go now.”

Eddie hums. Surveying and observing. His eyes are like God’s words, scrutinizing, demanding, and genuine. He reaches out, suddenly, and grabs Steve’s face. Hand cupping his chin, fingers digging into his soft cheeks, twisting him this way and that. Drops the hold. Clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I have a joint in my pocket. And a good massage trick if you—“

“God damn it, Eddie!” Steve finally snaps, yelling, “What part of I don’t need you, do you not understand?! Can’t you just fuck off, for once in your life?!”

At those words, Eddie’s gaze goes from sincere to angry. Good, Steve thinks, even as his stomach churns at his own words. He has been positively waiting for the other shoe to drop with this guy. If it has to be now, then so be it. He squares his shoulders just as Eddie clenches his jaw, takes a step back as if inviting him in more, and crosses his arms over his chest. The gesture feels a little small, but he’s made his bed. May as well lay in it.

“I would,” Eddie states slowly, voice nothing but a rasp with how deep it goes. A chill trickles down Steve’s spine. “I’d go and leave you alone. But that’s not what you want, Stevie. You’re lonely. You’re miserable. And I’ve got a quick fix, if only you’d—for once in your life, to throw your words back at you—let somebody help.”

Steve startles. Drops his arms at his sides. And clenches his fists so hard, the beginnings of crescent scars deepen in his palms. “You don’t know what I want,” he mutters. Albeit weakly. Cracking. Petulant.

In front of him, Eddie takes a step forward. It’s a dangerous movement. His footfall heavy against the hardwood under it. The vest on his back making his shoulders broader than Steve remembers. His eyes darken, hardening. Nostrils flaring a bit. He’s not somebody people get intimidated by, but Steve feels as though that’s a fallacy.

He’s ready to turn tail and run. And this is his house.

Except, something zings through him. Part of him is…enjoying this.

“Oh, I don’t, do I?” Eddie asks him. And he grows a bit more unsure as Eddie moves forward. “Think I don’t notice when you relax into people’s touch? When you get that stupid smile of yours as you fall asleep during a movie? How you enjoy it when somebody tells you what to do?”

Each question hits Steve in his core. Each one a solid blow. His palms sweat and his heart rabbits and his face grows hot—with anger or arousal, Steve can’t discern.

“Fuck off, Eddie,” he manages to grind out. Fists clenching and unclenching. Flakes of blood tickling his fingertips. He meets Eddie where he’s at. Toe to toe, nose to nose, eyes on his. In one solid movement, he pushes the other backwards towards the door. Watches him stumble. Is sickly satisfied with the ache to his bicep as Eddie’s eyes land back on him, as he grows taller, leaner in the little foyer. As he looms.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes dangerously, “I don’t think I will.” He steps forward again, his dark eyes like voids when Steve tries to talk a half-step back. “I’ve got you figured out, Stevie. You wouldn’t be puttin’ up a fight like this if it wasn’t true.”

There’s little space between them. An undercurrent of heat radiating around them. A thrum. This sick and twisted hot satisfaction running through Steve. He kind of wants to see what Eddie will do next. So he’s back up to the plate, right fist tight, left arm protecting at his lower belly, and grinning with his eyes. “Fuck,” Steve sighs. “You,” he growls. Fist at his shoulder, twisting in front of his very face, and landing squarely on Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie grunts. A literal punched out, heavy noise. His lip ends up split. He reaches up with a light hand, gingerly tapping at the blood seeping down his chin, and stares down his nose at the red tip of his middle finger. He laughs something unbelievable, delirious. Stares up at Steve. “Fuck me?” He questions hysterically. “Fuck you, Harrington!” Then, he lunges right back. A solid fist to Steve’s own lips. Something that pulsates throughout his entire head, knocking him loose and falling back, making him falter. The metallic taste of his own blood something tangible and erratic and lusting on his tongue.

“Yeah?” Steve teases, breathless, “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

That spurs Eddie on. He speeds back into Steve’s space, grabs him roughly—a little jarringly—by the elbow, and swings them towards the stairs. Steve lets it happen. Lets them stumble their way up the stairs, grabbing at each other like they could knead the tension out of their bodies; lets Eddie shove him into his own room, door slammed behind them, standing a few feet from one another. Eddie’s eyes drop down from Steve’s bloodied face to his crotch.

“I can’t believe this is turning you on,”  Eddie teases. Licks his bloody lips. His spit noticeably red when he speaks again. “Being a bitch turns you on.”

“M’not a bitch,” Steve meekly argues, covering up his crotch. Why now does he feel small? That’s immensely embarrassing.

Eddie grunts, assessing again. “You want this? Want me to actually fuck you senseless? Want me to put you in your place, you little fucking brat?”

Instinctively, Steve flexes his hand over his crotch. Squeezing at himself. He whimpers because this already isn’t embarrassing enough. Nods loosely. Eddie’s voice is scratchy and raw, deep and vibrating through the floor. It makes Steve a little fuzzy, the blood from his head and sluggish lip going to his intense hard-on. Though, part of what Eddie says still stings, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not yet, at least. “Yeah,” he breathes softly, all that intense anger seeping from him, even as he still sizzles. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

“Strip,” Eddie demands lowly.

And all Steve can do is oblige. Peeling himself from his clothes. Timid and quick, shaking in the air when he’s naked and goosepimpled. He eyes Eddie coming closer, his cheeks pink in the dim light of his bedroom. Watches him undress, slower than Steve had. Raking over his lithe body; the suggestion of muscles, his endearingly flat ass, and beautifully pale skin. His puckered scars that have healed neatly, how they dance with the few tattoos he has. Eddie’s reaching out to firmly grip Steve’s left bicep, and the other cupping under his chin again. Fingers digging at his cheeks once more. Then, he’s pushing forward, meeting their lips in a mess. There’s blood on Eddie’s tongue as he plunges between Steve’s lips—metallic as his own, thick and slimy. The swipe of his tongue makes Steve’s split lip sting and burn as if it’s alcohol on a fresh wound. He suckles the blood from inside each of their mouths, swapping it back and forth quite literally. Pulling away with the thinnest string of saliva Steve’s ever seen, though it’s a deep cherry red—something he’s thought of in his wildest dreams.

Eddie shuffles them towards the mattress. Topples Steve down on top, shuffles him supine and parallel. And then climbs on top, resting his full weight between Steve’s open, wanting legs. His hands on the thickest part of Steve’s thighs, thumbs brushing over the sparse hair towards the inside of his knees, eyeballing the red and leaking tip of his needy cock. He digs the sharp edge of his fingernails into the supple flesh underneath them. Scooting forward enough to tease the head of his own cock against Steve’s puckering hole.

Without warning, one of Eddie’s hands slaps over Steve’s already sensitive dick. He cries out at the hot flash of pain working its way through him. Thick and quick like the rush of blood to his heart. He squirms, but ultimately is stopped with Eddie’s weight being pressed into his legs. Including the sudden rush of Eddie’s dick bullying its way through Steve’s hole.

All Steve can do is scream, though it ends on a keening mewl, something only Eddie needs to bear witness to. The beading pearl of pre-come enough confirmation that he enjoys it. The stretch of his asshole, a blue lick of fire shooting through him, an ache already sore. Something he’ll soothe later, whether Eddie helps him or not.

For once, though, he likes the idea of Eddie being there to help him. Of his giant hands and the dull roughness of his callouses like balms over his skin. He wriggles again, trying to get all that Eddie’s offering inside him. He’d never thought about Eddie’s cock before, not really, but if he had to guess it—he’d never expect it to be so big, let alone thick.

“Look at you,” Eddie coos, although a bit mean. “Taking it all so well. My bitch can take it all, can’t he?”

Steve sniffs. Overcome with some odd mix of emotion, instantly quelling the nauseous anger he was holding onto. There are tears prickling in the corners of his eyes as he murmurs, “No, Eds, no—M’not a bitch. Not a—“ Steve hiccups. “Not a bitch, Eds.”

Immediately Eddie’s crowding over him. His hips are stilled and he’s wrapping Steve’s legs around his waist. Both of his arms encase Steve’s head, crouched down on his elbows. “No?” He asks softly, checking in. Genuinely gentle, no more of the macho mean guy he’d been playing up to. “No, of course not, Stevie,” he whispers. Leans in a little more to peck under Steve’s left eye, trailing lips down to the already bruised skin around his mouth. He pulls back. Eyeing Steve’s half-closed eyes. Tracing a thumb over the tear track that’s made itself known. “You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?” Eddie murmurs, “Just a baby boy, huh? Just need help being sweet right now.”

“I can be sweet,” Steve mumbles. His voice a little distant, soft, and quiet. “Can be good, Eds,” he whispers.

Eddie’s got a hand cupping the back of Steve’s head. The other working its way to Steve’s chest, over his heart. Petting at the gradually sweating skin. He presses a warm kiss between Steve’s eyebrows. Murmurs against the skin, “You gonna let me help you? I’ll be gentle now, I promise, baby.”

“Gentle,” Steve echoes. “Please,” he whispers, “please be gentle.” He fully opens his eyes to stare into Eddie’s own. There’s a softness to them that wasn’t there before.

The hand in his hair pets over the crest of his skull. Digging fingers into his scalp to scratch at it. “Okay, baby,” Eddie whispers, “I’m sorry for being rough. For being mean. I’ve gotcha now, okay? Let me make you feel good. Let me help you.”

Steve hums. Melting into the hold Eddie has on him. Lets his arms go completely limp at his sides. Eyes closed, creases and wrinkles receding. “Don’t pull out,” he mumbles.

“You sure, sweetheart? I can get some lube—“

“No,” Steve squeaks. Pushes further into the hand on his head. “Feels good,” he slurs, “s’good. The pain.” He reaches up blearily, a featherlight touch to Eddie’s bare arm. Fingers grazing the taut pull of his muscles. Over his chest, naked of hair. On the hanging ball chain of Eddie’s necklace. Teases the pick between his thumb and index finger. Smiles softly to himself. “Want it hard,” he confesses breathily.

Eddie keeps his hold, his line of sight completely focused on Steve’s face. The tenderness of his stare makes Steve want to weep. Makes him watch this attention all the time. He tracks his own hand down to Eddie’s waist, squeezes him gently. Mewling at the snap of Eddie’s hips. He welcomes the keening noises that fall from his lips.

It’s a mix of touch. Eddie’s hands are soft. His hips are fast and intense. He pulls out to just his tip, but quickly resituates himself to press firmly against Steve’s prostate. Kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, kitten licks over the steady stream of tears, dully scratches at his scalp with the slow stretch of his fingers.

All of it’s enough to completely soothe Steve. To melt him. To make him come undone.

Sobbing, he murmurs, “M’sorry. So sorry, Eds.”

Eddie kisses him softly on the mouth, careful to avoid the split on his lip. “Why, baby?” He whispers, “it’s alright. I was mean, too. It’s alright.”

“Forgive me,” Steve cries out with the snap of Eddie’s hips. Chants with each movement, “Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me.” His voice goes reedy. Exhausted and unlike him. Something sweeter. New. “Forgive me, Eds. M’sorry. Forgive me, forgive me.”

There’s a tight ball in his belly. Glowing warm and bright with his impending orgasm. Teetering with each word, Eddie’s hips, the stretch of his hole.

Against the side of his face, Eddie nestles himself. Cheek to cheek. And into Steve’s ear, he soothes, “Shh, baby. Shhh. I forgive you. We’ll be okay. I’ve gotcha right now.”

“Got me forever?” Steve asks wetly.

“Yeah, baby boy,” Eddie murmurs, “Forever and ever. I promise.”

With that, Steve lets go. Against his mattress, he squirms, convulses with the intensity of his orgasm. He bites down on his swollen, bleeding lip as he cries out. Hands tense on Eddie’s waist, squeezing him with all the force in his grip. Spurts of come into both their happy trails. Eddie isn’t too far behind, the hot and calming fill of his come completing Steve in a way he hadn’t been anticipating. With the weight of Eddie’s own orgasm, his sweaty body atop, and the come painting him inside—Steve is whole.

He’s exhausted when he comes down from the headspace he occupied. His face buried deep into his pillow, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, eyes half-closed and blurry to his surroundings. His cock is sensitive as Eddie pulls himself up. Hole sore and aching. Legs tight from digging into the small of Eddie’s back. But something in him panics as Eddie moves off him, getting back and away.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles, “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving, Stevie baby,” Eddie assures. “Just grabbing toilet paper from your bathroom, alright? Need to clean us up. I’ll grab a cold washcloth, too.”

“You’ll come back?” For a moment, Steve is lightly embarrassed by the tone of his voice. Like he’s a little kid, watching his parents leave for a business trip for the first time. Though, it honestly feels like that. Because back then, they didn’t come home when they promised.

“I promise, Steve. I wouldn’t leave you like this. Never ever.”

“M’kay,” Steve sighs. “M’sorry.”

He hears Eddie enter the restroom, shushing the entire time. His movements almost clumsy with how he bangs the cupboards. The sink turns on and something wrings out. And then Eddie’s back in Steve’s space, just as he promised.

There’s a damp washcloth on his lips. Pressing lightly over the split. A slow wipe with toilet paper on his legs, belly, and ass. Eddie is careful. Something tender and raw. And he lays down beside Steve, still holding the washcloth up.

He hisses quietly. “God, Steve,” he whispers, “I got you good. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have…Jesus Christ. Why’d I hit you?” The washcloth leaves for a moment, replaced by the tip of Eddie’s thumb. Pulling down gently on his lip, eyes assessing the wound.

“’T’s alright,” Steve mumbles, “hit you, too. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eddie quickly answers. “It bled for a little bit, but ultimately stopped. Think I got you with one of my rings, though. So yours is messier.” Rag goes back to his sluggishly bleeding lip. “Shouldn’t have pushed you. What was I thinking?” He mutters.

His words are muffled by the cloth, but he still speaks. “Forgive you, Eds. We both fucked up, we’re alright.” He places his hand back on Eddie’s waist, pulls himself into the little bit of space that’s left. His forehead lands softly on Eddie’s chest. “Sleepy,” he murmurs, “wanna go to bed.”

“You can sleep, sweetheart,” Eddie matches his volume, “I’ll be right here.”

“Wake me up later? Help me get ice?”

The gentle press of lips to his hairline. “Of course, Steve. I’ll help however you want it.”

“Help me by cuddling?”

Eddie snorts. “Okay,” he whispers. Wraps his arms around Steve’s sweaty back. Pulls him in firmly. Pets down his back. So Steve closes his eyes, breathes in deep, and goes boneless in the hold. “I’ve got you, honey. I’m sorry, but I have you now.”

🤜—————🤛 Haha, I've been trying to write this for the last six hours.