#she knocked over the FUCKING trashcan

[chishiyaisasnack]

It’s under my skirt, Doctor

Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!

Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.

Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.

This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.

When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.

A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.

Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.

Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.

”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.

”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.

”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”

Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.

”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.

”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”

In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.

His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.

Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.

The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.

The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.

”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.

He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.

”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.

With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.

He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.

”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”

Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.

”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.

”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.

”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.

”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”

For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.

Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.

”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”

”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.

She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.

Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.

”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”

And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.

Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.

When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.

”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”

[mavsstar]

.⋆˚𝐴 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃

Summary︱Bringing a man home only meant one thing for you—boring, meaningless sex. After a pathetic attempt to experience a blissful release, Bucky offers to help out.

Pairings︱DBF!Roomate!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

W.C︱2.2k

Warnings︱18+ this is straight up porn, age gap, reader using a vibrator, slight dom/sub dynamics, моя игрушка means my toy, praise, stomach bulge, squirting, a little bit of aftercare at the end.

Author's note︱I had to make it DBF bc i am a total whore for older men and it's honestly perfect for it. PSA THE READER MET BUCKY WHEN SHE WAS OVER 18. HE DID NOT SEE HER GROW UP. Anyways enjoy :D Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

You laid on the bed, your body barely jerking as your date thrusted inside you. You wondered what went wrong. It wasn’t that the date in itself was bad, it turned out to be one of the best dates you’ve been on so far. He was a nice and a very attentive man. 

“If only he could be that attentive in the bedroom,” you thought. 

You let out fake moans to make it seem you were slightly enjoying it and avoiding hurting his ego. Though someone should, so he would finally know how terrible he is be in bed. At least he was pretty so it wasn’t such a terrible loss on your side. You had a decent view. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck. 

“Please do so you can leave,” you said to yourself. 

With one final grunt his body stilled over yours, dropping all his weight on you seconds later. You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him over. He took it as a silence cue to leave. All that could be heard was the condom being thrown in the trashcan and the sound of his footsteps. You wanted him gone so you could have your own fun. 

You didn’t even bother turning around. Not even when he kissed you goodbye. When you heard the door shut, you immediately crawled across your bed to get to your vibrator that was deeply stuffed in the top drawer of your nightstand. You pulled the hot pink wand out and bit your lip in excitement. 

A gleeful hum escaped your lips when you pressed the vibrator against your clit and turned it on. You threw your head back in pleasure, your lips parting open as breathy moans left your lips. When you felt the vibrator lose its intensity down to lower vibration you internally groaned but nonetheless tried to enjoy the pleasure. 

Just as you felt your orgasm build up, the vibrator turned off. You frantically tried to turn it back on, mumbling a symphony of curses.

“Don’t do this to me now,” you wailed. Though the vibrator was fully dead. 

Out of frustration you threw the vibrator across the room, causing a huge thud sound as soon as it hit the wall. At least Bucky wasn’t here to hear any of it otherwise he would’ve fully woken up. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled into your pillow, your screams sounding muffled.

Seconds later you heard a knock on your door. “Honey, are you okay?” 

You audibly gasped, Bucky wasn’t supposed to be here. You pulled the covers up to your chest just in case he came into the room. “Yeah I’m fine!” 

 “You sure?” He asked as he entered the room. He smirked when he saw the white sheet clinging onto your body, your fingers clutching the sheet for dear life. 

“I th-thought you were supposed to b-be gone?” you stammered out, clearly nervous.

“I got back early.” 

“How early?” you questioned, praying that he hadn't heard you and he just came back. 

“4 hours ago,” he replied. Bucky took slow, agonizing steps towards you until he reached the side of your bed. “And I heard every little noise you made.” 

“Oh no,” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment. “I’m so–oh god!” 

You were so ashamed you could barely form a proper sentence. Your cheeks were on fire and you wanted to crawl into a little hole and die. While you were busy wallowing yourself in your mortification, you missed the way Bucky was undressing you with his own two eyes. 

“Bucky I don’t even know what to say–I’m so sorry.” 

Bucky’s hand softly gripped your chin and turned it so you were now facing him. “Sorry for what, Honey? For having sex? It’s natural, everyone does it.” His thumb swiped your bottom lip, adoring the way it bounced back. “You know what isn’t natural?” 

You peered at him with doe eyes. “What?” you asked him. 

Bucky mentally made sure to take a picture of you with the same exact look another day. God you drove him crazy with that simple look—his instincts begging him to fuck you senseless. 

“To fuck a guy who can’t even make you cum.” Disappointment racked down his body thinking about the fact someone as pretty as you is missing out on oh so much. “Don’t worry, s’not your fault.” 

“But what if it is?” 

His grip slightly tightened, “trust me it isn’t. They don’t know the first thing about pleasure. If it’s anyone's fault, it’s theirs.”

“To your luck, I know just how to make you feel good.” He bent downwards, his lips ghosting above yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, fully expecting him to kiss you. When you didn’t feel his lips on yours, you opened your eyes and they were mere centimeters away. So close yet so far. 

“Please Bucky,” you begged, inching your lips closer to his. 

Bucky leaned back, relishing your desperation. “Please what, Honey?” He squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering together. “Use your words.” 

“Please make me feel good.” 

“Good girl,” Bucky praised. The praise sent warmth down your body. 

He dropped his metal arm, slithering his way down to the bed sheets. He slowly starts pulling the sheet down, exposing every single part of your body. When the sheet was fully off Bucky lowly moaned. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll never want anyone else to touch you ever again.” 

Desperation won over and you tugged Bucky down with you. Nothing but teeth clashing and hands roaming everywhere on the other’s body. You tugged on the bottom of his shirt, silently signaling him to take it off. Bucky momentarily broke the kiss to peel off his shirt. 

Your eyes hungrily ran down his body, it was all like an orgasm for your eyes. “Wow,” you whispered, mainly to yourself. 

“You like what you see?” Bucky smugly asked. Bucky chuckled, watching your lust blow your eyes as you instantly nodded while you bit down your bottom lip sensually.  “Of course you do, don’t you?”

Bucky chased your lips once again. This time the kiss was slower, more calculated. His hand snaked down to your body and his hand cupped your dripping pussy. Your thighs clenched together as you felt the cold touch from his metal hand. 

“You’re dripping моя игрушка,” he growled against your lips. He grabbed your leg and hitched it over his, ensuring it stays open. He swiped his finger across your cunt to gather your wetness. 

His fingers circled over your clit, eliciting small breathy moans from you. “Let all those pretty sounds моя игрушка.” Bucky’s middle finger left your clit, traveling down to your weeping hole. “I don’t want you to hold back.” 

His finger entered inside you, your walls immediately clamping down on him. Bucky tested the waters and added a second finger. He was enamored with your blissed out face and he wasn’t even trying. 

He began to thrust his fingers in and out, making sure to curl his fingers just at the right angle causing your legs to quiver around his hand. “Go on, grind your pretty pussy on my hand.” 

You blindly obeyed his order. You grinded your hand on his palm, adding a delicious friction between your clit and his hand. Subconsciously you began to move faster, chasing a sweet, short euphoria. 

“That’s it,” Bucky praised, pressing his palm a bit harder. “Just like that.” 

Your first orgasm caught you by surprise. You could barely register what was going on before you gushed over his hand, your cum leaking down his fingers. Bucky pulled his fingers out and licked your essence, moaning at the sweet taste. 

He pushed your shoulder back, laying you flat on your back on the bed. Bucky quickly pulled his sweatpants down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free from the clothed restraints and slapped his stomach. The tip was drenched in precum making your mouth water. 

Bucky crawled on top of you, leaving kisses behind over your exposed skin. Once he was fully over you, he grabbed his cock and swiped it over your drenched cunt, swirling the tip on your sensitive button.

“Stop teasing,” you whined. You reached your hand down to guide him in but he swatted your hand away. With one hand Bucky pinned both of yours at the top of your head. 

“Wait,” he warningly growled. 

After a few more teasing swipes you felt Bucky’s tip prodding your entrance. Slowly, Bucky slid in and finally gave in to you. The stretch achingly burned yet nothing else has felt better. You felt every inch of his thick cock entering you. 

“Oh god–you’re so big.” 

“Aww моя игрушка,” Bucky cooed as kissed your nose, “I’m not even fully in yet.” 

You looked down and Bucky was right. You both gasped out once he fully sheathed himself inside you. You have never felt so full in your entire life. 

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched in pleasure. “God you’re so tight.” 

You felt like you were going to die if he wasn’t going to move. “Please move.” 

Bucky pulled almost all the way out, ensuring the tip stayed in and then plunged himself deep into you, eliciting a silent scream from you. Your head fell back when Bucky started to thrust inside you. If you thought you felt pleasure before, this was heaven. You never thought someone could ever make you feel this good. 

You somehow were able to loosen his grip on your hand. You grabbed his hand that was on your hip and guided him over to your lower stomach. “I can feel you in–here!” you exclaimed when he hit a particular spot. 

“Oh there it is,” he muttered as he repeatedly hit your g-spot over and over. “Guess what моя игрушка, if I do this,” Bucky gabbed your leg and threw it over his hip, “you’ll feel so much better.” 

“Bucky!” you screamed at the new angle. Tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. Your walls fluttered around him and Bucky had to bite back his moans. 

“No…wanna hear….you,” you pouted. “Bet you sound–so pretty.” 

Bucky granted your wish and finally moaned, it was music to your ears. Hearing his moans turned you on even more. 

“You’re so fuckin’ tight моя игрушка. I never want to leave your pretty pussy.” 

“S’all yours,” you babbled out. 

“Yeah? She’s all mine?” You nodded in response. Bucky didn’t really have to ask. Your pussy was his whether you were going to tell him or not. She belonged to him. You belonged to him. 

You shook off his hand to unleash your other hand. Both of your hands ascended up his arms and found solace on his biceps. “Harder,” you whimpered. Your voice was barely above a whisper but Bucky heard it as clear as day. Bucky easily complied and thrusted harder. 

“Please, please, please don’t stop,” you begged, your nails digging into his biceps. You were sure there would be marks but you couldn’t care less. 

“Oh моя игрушка, I don’t think I’ll last,” Bucky groaned out. 

You could barely respond with your orgasm rapidly approaching. “I’m gonna–” 

“No, not yet. Wait until I say let go.” 

“Bucky, I can’t hold it.” 

“You can and you will.” 

Bucky was determined to cum with you at the same time. He kept the same pace despite wanting to go faster. Though you made it nearly impossible with the way you gripped him like a vice. 

“Bucky…” 

“Just a little bit more.” 

“Bucky I can’t!” you cried out, stray tears falling down your face. “Please!” 

“Now,” Bucky practically demanded.

You finally let go of the knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screwed shut as you chanted Bucky’s name over and over like a prayer. It was all a new feeling to you and your body didn’t know how to react. You momentarily blacked out as you let your orgasm ride out. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasped out, looking down at the mess you made all over his lower stomach that was now mixing in with his cum. 

“I’m sorry Bucky,” you mumbled out, still fucked out. “I didn’t mean to.” Bucky shushed you, assuring you it was more than okay that you were more than welcome to gush all over his body. 

Bucky pulled out, earning a whine from you. If you could have it your way Bucky’s cock would be inside you all night but you could barely form any words. Your body was profusely shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. 

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Told you I know how to make you feel good. Turns out all you needed was a little help” Bucky boasted. He then handed you a bottle of water, “drink this, you’ll need it.”

While you drank the water Bucky left to go to the bathroom. He came back with a wet rag in one hand and clothes in the other. Bucky quietly cleaned you up, murmuring soft praises to you. 

“You did so good for me,” Buckky whispered against your skin. “You were absolutely perfect.” You made a noise of contentment when Bucky slid his shirt over your head. You brought the material up your nose, deeply inhaling his scent. 

“I’m never giving this shirt back,” you commented. 

“Good,” Bucky replied as he laid right next to you. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shaky body, “it looks better on you anyway.” 

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Warning: Murray stupidly pushes Steve into outing himself. There is a happy ending. Shoutout to the person who recently posted about this and gave me the idea.

Steve looked around at the party, a warm smile on his face. Joyce was sitting in Hopper's lap as they talked to Claudia and Sue. Judging by the looks on Sue and Claudia's faces, they were boasting about him again. He doesn't understand why they felt the need to brag so much or why they made sure he heard it as often as he could stand it. They were celebrating the fact that the fourth of July was over and that there wouldn't be any more fireworks to retraumatize them. They were also celebrating the fact that they were all alive and well, the gates closed hopefully forever. Steve was sitting off by himself after having chased the kids around the Hoppers' new and spacious backyard with Eddie. Steve was tired, but Eddie somehow managed to keep going and now had Mike in a headlock.

"Finish him!" Erica hollered, causing Hopper and Jonathan to snort into their cups.

Steve laughed. That's when Murray plopped down in the empty chair next to him.

"I'm not sure if I like that kid or if I'm afraid of her," Murray said.

"I'm pretty sure she could have taken down Vecna just by talking to him," Steve said.

"I do not doubt it," Murray cackled.

Mike finally surrendered to Eddie, and he let go of him, cheering loudly. Steve smiled at him, his heart fluttering. Eddie winked at him, and his cheeks flushed red. Nancy cheered and clapped. Mike flipped her off, and Jonathan threw his empty cup at Mike's forehead, and when Mike yelled, Jonathan claimed he was aiming for the trashcan.

"Those two kids still together?" Murray asked.

"Mike and Jonathan never dated. At least, I hope not," Steve said, his brow furrowing.

"No! Nancy and Jonathan!" Murray scowled.

"Oh, yeah, no. They're friends, Nancy wanted to focus on school," Steve said.

"Sounds about right considering I was the one who pushed them together," Murray said.

"You were?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she was dating this complete dud she clearly had no feelings for," Murray said. "I was all, 'we like Steve, but we don't love Steve'. Hey, you know, you have the same name as him."

"Yeah, it's funny how that works. Poor Steve, right?" He said. "They never love him. I'm the very same Steve, dumbass."

"Don't you like guys?" Murray asked.

"What the fuck?" Steve said, staring at him wide eyes, his cheeks flushed. "No, I don't!"

"I'm not gonna judge you, Harrington," Murray said, rolling his eyes. "I'm gay too. Safe space for you and your boyfriend over there."

"What business of it of yours?" Steve snapped. "And Eddie's not my boyfriend."

"Oh, do you guys need a little push too?" Murray scoffed.

"You do know bisexuals exist, right?" He asked, gripping his cup.

"Yeah, and are you?" Murray asked, amused at how mad Steve was getting.

"It's not any of your goddamn business!" He snarled at him.

"Are you still hung up on Nancy?" Murray continued to push.

"No!" Steve rolled his eyes, wanting this conversation to be over.

He stared ahead, not looking at him. Everyone was still conversing and horsing around while Steve was stuck, having the most awkward conversation of his life. Murray's words from earlier rolling around in his head.

"So, you don't have feelings for him?" He asked.

"I do, okay!" He exclaimed.

"Then what's the problem?" Murray asked.

"We don't love Steve, remember?" Steve growled at him, tear prickling at the corners of his eyes, and suddenly, he was back at Tina's party.

He stood up suddenly, knocking his chair back harshly, causing everyone to look at him.

"Steve, honey, are you okay?" Joyce asked.

"Oh, he's just being a little sensitive, Joyce," Murray replied.

Sensitive. The same word that Steve’s father used to call him when he didn't want to say the word. He always knew about Steve and the fact that he was too sensitive. Steve whirled around, and before he knew what he was doing, his fist was colliding with Murray's face and knocking him out of his chair. There were several gasps, and Murray cackled.

"There's no need to be ashamed of yourself, Steve," he said.

"I have never been ashamed that I also like men, and I am not ashamed that I like Eddie!" Steve yelled at him.

Suddenly, he realized that he just outed himself in front of everyone. Steve felt very overwhelmed. Well, Robin and Dustin already knew. Steve quickly apologized and ran around to the front to head towards his car. He pulled out his keys, but his hands were shaking so badly that he kept dropping them. He got to his driver's side door when he dropped them again. He squatted down to pick them up when he saw someone else's hand reach down to do the same. He looked up to find Eddie squatting next to him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said softly. "He had no right to push you like that."

Steve hadn't realized he had been crying until Eddie cupped his face and wiped away a tear with his thumb. He could hear the distinct voice of Joyce yelling in the backyard. They stood up, and Steve collapsed into Eddie's open arms. He shoved his face into Eddie's shoulder as he sobbed.

"We like Steve, but we don't love Steve. That's what he said," Steve whispered.

"Please tell me that you don't believe that shit, man," Eddie said. "Because everyone here loves you. . . Including me. Especially me."

"You love me?" Steve said, his voice small.

"Yep, in a very not straight way. I also like men," Eddie said. "I'm not ashamed of it either."

"I want to kiss you," Steve said softly.

"Right here? I'm okay with it if you are," Eddie said.

Steve pressed his lips to Eddie's, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling the metalhead against him. His lips were soft against his own, and then Eddie pressed his lips hard against his as he deepened the kiss. Eddie wrapped his arms tightly around Steve’s shoulders as he tried to press himself further against him. Eddie broke the kiss, gently nibbling on Steve’s lip as he pulled away. Steve leaned his forehead against Eddie's, sniffling.

"I love you too, Eddie," Steve whispered.

"See, I knew you needed a push," Murray said.

Steve peered around to see him coming around the house, being dragged by Joyce and Hopper. Murray's nose was bleeding heavily. It was also clearly broken.

"Did I do that?" Steve asked.

"No. It was hard to tell who broke his nose, Sue or Claudia," Hopper said, chuckling. "But it was definitely Joyce who knocked his tooth lose."

"It's still hanging in there. Oh, and there it goes," Murray said.

"By the way, you didn't do shit!" Eddie exclaimed. "Fuck you and your tooth!"

"Yeah, I had a special evening planned tomorrow where I was going to make him dinner and then tell him, so thank you for that," Steve said. "With or without you, I would have told him."

"Wait, really?" Eddie asked with wide eyes. "Even though this jackass ruined your big reveal, can we still have dinner together tomorrow?"

"Yeah, it can be our first date," Steve said, smiling softly.

"You mean our first date wasn't our trip through the Upside Down together?" Eddie asked, and Steve laughed, shaking his head. "How about I do the cooking, big boy?"

Murray made a half assed apology before leaving. That's when Sue and Claudia came through with the kids following behind them. Sue, Claudia, and Robin started fussing over him.

"Oh, honey, are alright?" Sue asked.

"I'm much better, thanks, Sue," Steve said and pulled out of Eddie's arms to welcome her embrace.

"Oh, sweetie, we just want you to know that we love you," Claudia said.

"Yeah, we're proud of you, baby," Sue said, rubbing his shoulder.

"Yes, we love you, too, Steve," El said. "You and Eddie are cute."

"It's awesome!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Uh, why are Erica and Max whispering with their heads pressed together?" Steve asked.

"Uh, well, they said they were plotting Murray's death, but it was hard to tell if they were joking or not, and I wasn't going to ask," Lucas said.

"You guys really love me, huh?" Steve asked.

"Of course, sweetheart, you're family," Joyce said. "After everything you've done, it would be pretty shitty of us not to accept you."

"Yeah, you're our brother in arms," Lucas said.

"Our paladin," Will said with a proud grin.

"Our protector," El said.

"Our washed-up jock," Erica said with a fond smile.

"Our mother," Max said with an amused smile.

"Our kid," Sue, Claudia, Charles, Joyce, and Hopper said.

"My platonic soulmate," Robin said with a twinkle in her eye.

"My boyfriend?" Eddie asked.

"Your boyfriend," Steve said as he choked on his happy tears.

He swooped in and kissed his boyfriend in front of his entire family.

[steviewashere]

Let Me Make You Soup, Let Me Show You That I Care

(also on ao3)

wc: 4,149, Steddie Tags: Post Vecna, Post Canon, Post Season 4, Sick Steve Harrington, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting (Though Not Extreme, For I am Emetophobic), Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve's Sucky ass Parents

(Also, I hope y'all don't mind me cross-posting some of my favorite one shots that I've put up on ao3. Figured I could push them to a bigger audience, especially those who don't use ao3).

--------

Steve gets sick often. Small colds, allergies, the dreaded flu. Maybe it doesn't help him that he's had so many concussions and injuries on top of that too. Left with debilitating migraines and aching sides and muscles that become overexerted too fast.

Safe to say, his immune system is now a pile of steaming dog shit.

He's become good at attempting to "take care" of himself. With his parents being absent nearly all the time, much of the recovery process and gentle care was left to Steve. His hands don't have the same soft and slim quality as his mother's did, though. Even if she doesn't make the effort to shove his hair from his sweaty forehead or massage vapor-rub onto his chest or squeeze his shoulders as he dry-heaves into the toilet. He can miss that.

It's also safe to say that Steve Harrington, best babysitter and lesbian protector, is absolutely terrible at asking for help. His idea is, Got myself into this mess, I can get myself out. His other idea is, I don't want to burden anybody; I've been that too many times.

He suspects that's why his parents aren't there now to tuck him into bed and check his temperature and read him a bedtime story. Even though, now, he's a nineteen year old "man." More like a bruised child trapped inside the buff body of an even more injured adult, left to his own devices and decisions.

Steve is miserable today. Woke up with a knocking headache, an itch at the bottom of his throat, tingly fingers, shivering limbs, and the need to massage his abdomen to elicit the vomit to come up sooner.

It's barely nine in the morning. Just cracked his eyes open. Which, are heavy with crust and too much sleep, yet not enough.

It's barely nine in the morning and all Steve wants to do is lay stiff on his mattress, a trusty tried and true trashcan on the floor, curtains closed, a heavy duvet draped over his legs, and the A/C set to sixty-eight degrees. That's what he does. Doesn't have the appetite for breakfast or water or Tylenol. He doesn't have the energy to lay on a towel on the bathroom floor, body curled around the base of the toilet bowl. And, he doesn't have the confidence to plead with somebody over the phone to "Take care of me, just this once and I'll repay you."

He's done that before to Tommy. The bastard never showed and Steve sobbed so hard at the thought of being left alone, that he hurled right onto the beige carpet of his bedroom. That's why the desk is stuffed into the corner. To cover what he couldn't even take care of.

Steve has decided to lay in bed today. Has already used the trashcan. Kicked off the duvet then whined then brought it back to his sweat drenched t-shirt hem, then said fuck this and ripped the shirt off his body.

The silk sheets against his rapidly heating body feels nice. Like laying on the kitchen floor, Steve surmises. And that makes him think of soup.

A hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. Something he's made himself countless times before. A recipe that his mom never perfected. It's just Campbell's, the instructions are on the label, yet it was never made correctly.

She'd do that. When her motherly instincts were at an all-time high. That had to be when he was probably five? Six? His mom would make a bowl of soup so warm and soothing that she would have to warn him about touching the ceramic. She would bring him a glass of orange juice and say, ever soft and comforting, "It'll help you. Mommy promises."

The juice would sting his throat and he would cough so hard she would start to worry about doing the Heimlich maneuver.

That's what his mother's "sick care" turned into. A glass of orange juice that only hurt, never helped, just made him think about swallowing glass.

Soup turned into a heat-until-lukewarm situation. Juice wasn't bought for him. His parents elected to buy "fancy juice" instead. Another descriptor for Mommy's self-healing alcohol problem, Steve began to substitute. He remembers the last time she ever made him anything or gave a shit about his weakened body.

Steve was eleven years old.

He eventually learned where to buy the Campbell's stuff. From Mevald's. Now he keeps a hefty supply in the back of his family's pantry. Ready for a day like this.

A day where at eleven, before noon, Steve has a sudden mouth watering appetite for measly chicken noodle soup.

He hefts his body into an upright position, feet planted onto the carpet, fingers white-knuckling the edge of the mattress, a quick glance thrown at the trashcan, and a heavy breath burrowed into the stale air. Right before he scoots to stand, he hears the telltale sound of Eddie knocking on his front door. A simple three pattern.

The rapping startles Steve slightly. He forgot that Eddie was supposed to come over. I'll have to send him away, he thinks solemnly.

"Coming!" Steve croaks to the bathroom floor. With whatever strength the knocking has given him, he tucks the trashcan under his right arm, creeps to the top of the stairs, and ever so carefully floats down them.

The can is set off to the side before he opens the door.

In the glow of the daylight, energized and cheery, is Eddie Munson. Wrapped in a leather jacket, hair tied up into a bun, jeans replaced with jorts, and a grin the size of the moon.

"Hey Stevie," he drawls as his lithe frame leans against the doorjamb.

"Hey man, listen..." Steve begins before being interrupted.

"Whoa, what's going on with you?" Eddie shoves into the house. His grin is set into a small frown and his eyes are glazed with concern instead of the excited energy equal to a golden retriever. "Did you get enough sleep last night? You could've called me if you had a nightmare."

That's something him and Eddie do. When one has a god awful nightmare about floating bodies and squelching flesh and sterile hospital walls, they call each other. Sometimes to just hear that the other is alive. Other times for a trip to one another's house. The phone calls could be Eddie recapping a campaign storyline or Steve bemoaning over a wretched, hag of an old woman that demanded a refund on an R rated movie her grandson finagled her into renting. Or just breathing. Steve's fond of the soft puffs of air that signal Eddie finally relaxed enough to go back to sleep.

"No, weirdly enough I slept way longer than I was supposed to. I'm just sick today. But, I'm fine. Or at least I will be, got a good grasp on this. Y'know, trashcan, soft bed, canned soup. Was actually coming down here to send you back home," Steve rushes out. He's out of breath and feels lightheaded. The headache has turned into a pulsating mess and his stomach churns violently. Before he can warn Eddie again to go out the front door and leave him be, Steve finds himself hunched over his trashcan at the bottom of the stairs, trembling with the force of his grip. One hand on the edge of said bin. The other, wrapping tendrils of hair around his fingers and pulling with enough force to surely rip out some of his luxurious hair. Which, really, is a sweaty disgusting mop today.

He feels the hand in his hair loosen. A smaller, slightly cold hand replacing it. But this time, the fingers work carefully to sweep back any loose strands. Another hand joins the mix. This one squeezes at his right shoulder.

Eddie is behind him, whispering and shushing, "You're alright. I got you, let it out." His cold skin feels amazing over Steve's damp forehead. And equally, his touches are soothing.

Steve coughs once, twice, spits the same amount, and then leans against Eddie with a heavy sigh. "Thanks," he mutters. He shutters at being oddly exposed. Now that he's realized his torso is bare and he probably looks as awful as he feels and now all of his guts are in a bin in front of him.

The bin gets shoved over to the left and Steve starts to get up from the hardwood floor. Eddie lifts him up and leans him against his side. "How about this? I'll make you something mild, get some water into you, and divvy up a couple Tylenol tablets. Your skin is hot and not in the sexy way," he chuckles.

They make their way to the living room. Steve is deposited onto the couch with a cushion shoved behind his back and the can placed appropriately at his feet, within arm's reach. Eddie adjusts his hair again, this time with the tie from his own hair, and leaves to the kitchen.

Steve is dazed. Hot all over. Itchy in some places. Runny nose, aching stomach, watering eyes, and throat so itchy he wants to dig his fingernails into the skin on his neck. This predicament almost makes him embarrassed, more ashamed than anything. He gets his ass handed to him annually and has to have people take care of him during the concussions, until he's given the okay to go home and grovel in silence. And he puts himself in situations he can't get himself out of. He's tired of it, he realizes. Feels the need to apologize to Eddie, make him cookies or something, promise to never make him do anything like this ever again.

When said man comes back into the room with three extra-strength Tylenol in his palm and a cold glass of tap water, Steve wants to cry. It's not until Eddie is setting everything down to pet at his hair and shush him again doe he notice, he is crying.

"Sorry," Steve's voice rasps. He takes a gasping breath before choking out another nasty, wet sob.

"Nothing to be sorry for. It's what your body has to do," Eddie coos.

"No, I'm sorry you have to take care of me," he breathes. That's tally number two for decisions Steve is making today. Some miserable, lonely, somewhat pathetic decisions.

Then, Eddie pulls back. His eyes are the size of saucers. And that small frown from earlier has turned into a deep-set, terribly worrying downturn. "You don't have to apologize for that. Not at all. You need help, I'm here for you. It's what we do, okay?" he murmurs. Steve cries some more at that. Choking on his tears, practically. Enough for Eddie to say, "Hey, breathe with me. I don't want you to make yourself sick again."

So they sit for a few minutes. Breathing. Steve keeps his eyes on Eddie's mouth, watching him count. And Eddie stares at his eyes. Trying to piece together all the little details about this version of Steve. The one not picking fights and towering over unlucky underclassmen and spitting venom instead of backing away when he's supposed to. This Steve that looks like a small, terrified, lonely little boy. Who feels the need to apologize for being a human being. Somebody that makes sure everybody is better off and happy and swooned over before taking an assessment of his own body, the injuries stitched into his side, and the possibility that someone also wants to make sure he's doing alright.

God, who is Steve Harrington, Eddie questions to himself.

Once the tears have subsided and breathing has been placed under control, Steve feels exhausted. Eddie seems to notice because he suggests, "Why don't you lay down for a while? Maybe snooze some while I make soup?"

Steve nods with slight hesitancy. "Can I—" he stutters, "Can I lay down in my room?" To Eddie, this is the quietest he's ever heard his friend. And that doesn't sit right with him. A man—bulky and toned, loud and sassy, bark with no bite—now sitting with his shoulders slumped, skin blotched in various shades of pink and red, breathing ragged, and looking at Eddie with terribly timid eyes. He's just a little boy, some part of Eddie whispers.

"Yeah man. 'Course you can. How 'bout you get yourself to bed, I'll follow behind with your can, give you your medicine, and leave the door open just in case you need something?" The nod Eddie gets back is so energetic, it's as if Steve wasn't sick to begin with. That part of him that's been whispering and wondering is now aching. All he wanted was to be looked after.

Where are your parents, Eddie wants to ask aloud. Who was here to take care of you, Eddie wants to dig.

In mere moments, Steve is tucked back into bed. The curtains are drawn to be almost completely closed. His door is left unlocked and gaping. There are soft snuffles drifting through the house. And Eddie finds himself in front of the Harrington's fancy electric stove.

Before he came back downstairs to cook, Steve whispered something about there being Campbell's in the pantry. "If you want to heat it up on the stove, that's what my mama did when I was really little. It's what I do now."

Eddie glances at the cans and makes a decision for Steve, He deserves better than a piss poor attempt. Homemade it is.

When he was little, Wayne used to make soup on sick days. Still does. During the recovery time when Eddie's sides were still sore with stitches and itchy with stretch, Wayne would bring him a bowl of soup and a tall glass of orange juice on a little tray. He makes a mean bowl of tomato. "Something my mamaw taught me and now I can show you," he had told Eddie.

As much of a bare wasteland as Steve's kitchen is—What does he eat, Eddie wonders—he manages to find all the ingredients necessary. After a couple cupboards are ripped open and some miscellaneous drawers sifted through, he finds himself stirring a simmering metal pot of something he hopes Steve can keep down.

Eddie wants to chastise Steve for even thinking about being sick alone. What a misery sentence. Was probably going to call Robin and say something about, "You don't need to worry. It's not bad. I'll just be out of work for a couple days." Then he would've trekked back upstairs, slow like molasses, and locked the door behind him. Would've laid in bed shivering and crying and barfing. Probably would have passed out by the time he was finally hungry.

Steve even apologized earlier for being taken care of. As if he was a burden. Made himself smaller and tighter and quieter, that's for sure. So Eddie won't do any form of chastising. That'd only make him disappear on himself more.

As the soup is being dished up with plain toast and a cup is being filled with pulpy orange juice, Eddie hears Steve startle awake upstairs. Goes from snoring almost as loud as Wayne in the winter to dry heaving, hard.

Eddie sets the made tray down onto the counter. He makes his way back to the front door and chucks his shoes to the side and hangs up his jacket. Then, tumbles upstairs just as Steve is breathing raspy again.

One. Two. Three knocks on the open bedroom door. And in the blink of an eye, Eddie is over at Steve's side. He's crying again. Nothing like the nauseous sobs from earlier, but sniffles and silent watery blinks.

Steve's hair is pushed back again. "What's goin' on Stevie? What happened?"

"N-nothing," he spits frantically into the air. Like a kid trying to hide a lollipop behind their back. A teenager caught with a lit cigarette in hand. The family dog with a sneaker in it's mouth being told to drop it.

"Okay. Okay, I won't push. But I brought you some soup and orange juice. It's not the best because there's so much pulp in it, but it'll do for now. Oh, and—" Eddie sings. He digs around in his jorts pockets for a small container. As he brandishes it just in Steve's line of sight, he says, "Found some vapor-rub in the medicine cabinet downstairs. Now it is a few months out of date, but that just means more will need to be appl—honey, what's goin' on?" he questions softly.

Steve's sniffles have turned into thin-lipped, eyes glazed and bloodshot, muffled sobs. He has a streak of snot dripping down on his upper lip and his chest keeps stuttering. Eventually, he chokes out, "You brought the soup to me."

And what a statement.

The sentence slaps Eddie across the face, causing his head to rear back. It confuses him, that's what it does. Obviously I brought him soup, what the fuck, he asks himself incredulously.

"Wha—of course. That's what you do when somebody is sick. You help 'em out, bring soup or crackers or whatever and make sure they're better," Eddie supplies as he wipes away the sweat and snot with his banana. There's a brief moment where the only sound is Steve crying. The room is dim and he seems more comfortable than when the door was initially answered.

Eddie thinks back to the apologizing. The making himself smaller and quieter. His hesitancy about wanting to sleep in his own bed. How his mom used to make soup. And the statement, "Got a good grasp on this." Pieces start to click, sirens sound off, door number three has opened and behind it is a shiny new car.

A horrifying realization. The easy solution to Eddie's childlike curiosity over where Steve's parents are. And that in itself makes him want to hurl into the trashcan or pull full force at his hair or sob.

His parents aren't here and haven't been in a long while, Eddie accuses.

"Oh, Stevie." He pets again at his drenched hair. "I'm not going anywhere, alright? You don't have to worry about that with me. Let me do what I need to do, but I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Okay," Steve whispers.

Within just a couple minutes, Eddie has Steve propped back up on a mountain of pillows. Some from the hall closet, the stale bedroom of his parents, and the ones from his own bed. He's changed the bag in the can with a call of, "It's alright, no big deal," after Steve's cry that Eddie didn't need to do that. A bedside lamp has been turned on. An ice cold wet rag has been situated over his neck. There's a thick layer of vapor-rub in his chest hair.

Then came the aforementioned lunch. It smells divine. As if God himself started a soup kitchen in the Harrington's desolate house. What's even better is that it's definitely not chicken noodle.

"I don't remember there being any cans of tomato in the pantry," Steve notes.

"Oh, well. I thought you deserved better than that crap. Made something Wayne usually serves up. Family recipe," he sings again.

"Oh," Steve breathes. His eyes feel wet again, but he fights every part of him that says to cry. He's done enough of that. "Y'know, you didn't have to," he says quietly.

Eddie makes the wounded sound of a shot dog. He finishes setting up the tray on the stiff mattress. Then, situates himself to sit on Steve's left, rubbing down his bare back. "I wanted to. That's all that matters. Now eat up before it gets cold."

And he does just that. The bowl is hot to the touch. Its contents still fresh from being boiled. Even the gulps of orange juice don't burn as bad as when he was little. Steve feels five years old again. He's anticipating the late afternoon lunch from his mom where she'll show him vapor-rub and a spoonful of Pepto-Bismol. In the living room, she's going to lay down, with him on top, and they'll watch reruns of his favorite cartoons. The curtains are closed and she hums lullabies as he drifts off to sleep.

Eddie rubs his back and hums songs and kisses his forehead gently. Which, Steve hasn't been given that amount of affection in a long while. And he honestly doesn't mind.

There's something that's been sitting between the two of them, a thing the size of a ten pound medicine ball. A word shaped like love and comfort. The space where Eddie shares stories about Uncle Wayne and his hibernation snoring when the temperatures drop and how he acquired every single mug on their wall. And in response, Steve listens and drips a couple droplets of how his mom would read Goodnight Moon and kiss him on his cheek or on summer days where they'd splash each other in the shallow depth of the pool. Before it became a graveyard. Or the loosely sketched outline of a mom and her child. His dad wasn't as close, but he'd play catch when Steve was still learning about baseball or share facts about his car that intrigued little eight year old Steve in a way no sport has ever done before. How he acquired the bowling pin from the one time his parents took him out for his birthday. The car painting being something his dad did in his spare time, not bought from some general store in the next town over.

Even in his sick state, Steve thinks about pecking Eddie on the lips. Wonders how smooth they are. If he uses chapstick. What flavor it could be. His mind supplies days in the future where they make soup for each other and shout about how excellent Hellfire was or Lucas' basketball game had been. Mornings shaped by soft snores and gentle touches and steaming cups of coffee. Nights wrapped around each other, cooing sweet nothings when the nightmares become bloody again, and sex that's slow and drawn out. Or the quiet moments where Steve needs a shoulder to cry on. And open arms so that Eddie is encased in comfort, even after everything.

At his final spoonful and dip of toasted crust, Steve whispers, "I love you." As treacherous as his mouth has been in the past, this final decision isn't as daunting as the rest from earlier today. Some part of Steve knew that it would come to a head and the words would spill from his lips like the soup on his chin.

Eddie hums beside him. He kisses Steve one. Two. Three times on the forehead. Then he sets the tray aside with all the empty dishes and the vapor-rub with three finger divots. He strips down to his boxers and a simple t-shirt. And he tucks Steve in as he scoots on top of the duvet to hold him.

"I love you, too," he responds. "And I'll be here when you get up. So get some rest and the next time you're awake, I'll go get some new orange juice and more ingredients for tomato soup and a container of unexpired Vick's."

Steve drifts off to sleep with his body curled around Eddie's side.

In the morning, the curtains are open and soft sunlight streaks in the bedroom. Eddie has left the house to do a quick grocery run, leaving behind a note of "Just lay back and relax. I brought the phone upstairs if you want to keep yourself entertained."

He calls Robin to muse aloud how excellent Eddie is. Their dance around each other now concluded over a simple bowl of soup. How nice it is to finally get the care he wish he had when his mom started to go away. Him kissing a guy before she could kiss a girl and her shriek off, "The next time I see you, I'm gonna give you the nastiest, biggest wet willy this world has ever seen. Trust in it, Steve Harrington."

The threat isn't an empty one, but it makes Steve chuckle anyway. Even though he still feels that encroaching violent twist of his stomach and a cough that could send him flat on his ass.

And when the phone call ends and Eddie is back inside with soup being made on the stove? Steve feels like maybe it's alright to rely on his true family when the time comes. He makes a promise to himself too that he'll learn how to make the best goddamned chicken noodle soup this world has ever tasted. All so that he can dote over Eddie the same. Make sure that he really knows just how much Steve loves him.

"I love you," Eddie breaths into his tussled hair later on the couch, where they're watching cartoons.

"Love you, too," Steve slurs as his body becomes heavier with sleep.

[uswnt-imagines]

Sick Days with Press

Reader gets sick in the middle of the night and her girlfriend takes care of her

Christen woke up feeling Y/N jump out of bed, running into the bathroom and slamming the door. at first, The woman thought nothing of it due to the fact that she often overslept because she hit the snooze button so often.

After listening for her to turn on the shower or the sink and not hearing anything, the forward started to worry a little at the silence.

Christen got up from the bed and slid on one of Y/N's sweatshirts, making her way to the bathroom door and knocking on it.

"Y/N? Is everything alright baby?" She asked, her voice gentle and soft.

"Yeah... uh yeah... everything is fin— oh fuck." Y/N gagged, leaning over the toilet to throw up again.

As soon as she heard her gag, Christen opened the door and quickly made her way over to Y/N, her heart aching at the sight of her girlfriend. She was so pale and sweaty, her arms shaking as she held herself over the toilet seat. She looked over at the forward, trying to give her a small smile to reassure her, but the small movement only made Y/N groan and throw up again.

"Oh baby." Christen whispered, grabbing two washcloths and wetting them with cool water. She crouched down on the floor next to her, pushing her hair back from her forehead and dabbing it with the cloth before laying the other one on the back of her neck.

"Don't want you to get sick.” She mumbled, her hand reaching out to squeeze Christen's thigh, trying to reassure the girl that she was okay.

"Don't care about getting sick baby, I just wanna take care of you like how you take care of me and everyone else. Do you think you maybe picked up something from work or something?" Christen's mind was running wild, trying to determine where her girlfriend could have picked up the stomach bug from, making a mental list of everything that she was going to have to go out and get.

"Babe, really I'm– fuck– I’m fine." Y/N gagged, picking herself up and leaning against the bathroom counter. She was shaking as she tried to reach for her toothbrush to get the vile taste out of her mouth and she could feel Christen's eyes on her.

"Nope, we're not doing this. You’re not going to get out of me taking care of you the one time that you're sick just because you want to play the 'my immune system is higher than yours' card." Christen placed her hands on her shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before helping Y/N back to bed.

She helped her lay down, grabbing one of Y/N's sweatshirts out of the drawers when she saw that she was shivering and helping her pull it over her head. The brunette propped up some pillows for her before pulling the covers over her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you love." Y/N mumbled, leaning up into the forward's touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the intimate gesture.

"Of course baby. You take care of everyone else all the time, so let me take care of you too okay? It's what I'm here for. now, I'm gonna place this trashcan next to you in case you feel sick again and I think we have some ginger ale or something like that in the cabinets. and oh I’m pretty sure we have some saltines and..." Christen's ranting was interrupted by Y/N grabbing her hand to get her attention.

"You can go get all that in a minute love. right now... right now all I want is for you to come get in bed and hold for a bit until I fall asleep. then you can go get me all of those things please?" her bottom lip was jutted out, batting her eyelashes as a small smirk formed on her face when she saw Christen caving.

"Okay, okay. I'll lay down with you for a bit but then I'm gonna have to go get some medicine and all of that other stuff you need okay? We gotta have my girl feeling 100%." Christen giggled, placing a kiss to her forehead again before crawling behind her girlfriend and wrapping her arms around her waist.

[crushedgraham]

A fic with Mercy x fem!Reader where reader is afraid of needles and only agrees to let Angela give her the shot she needs to get instead of her actual doctor? 🤍

You're My Silver Lining

sorry for the really inconsistent updating! im slowly getting through requests but work and school have been taking up most of my time 😞 enjoy :3

Training season and new recruits were right around the corner which was unfortunately your least favorite time of the year. Everything was too hot and busy but above all; you had to get your shots.

Vaccines were a top priority during these times to ward off flu's and sicknesses from the close proximities of trainees working with one another. They were the bane of your existence.

The entire process made you feel sicker than a flu would - everything from the smell of the sanitary products to the gleaming needle. Angela was the only silver lining in these situations. Before you had gotten together, you would always see your appointments as opportunities to get close to the doctor (cough only scheduling when she was free cough cough).

But lately the newer recruits have been getting a little too desperate for her attention, she was completely booked which meant you would have to get through the shots without her support - you were fucked.

Your hands fidgeted, clammy fingertips picking at the paper sheet on the medical bed. The unfamiliar environment made things worse. Once your bond with Angela grew, she started doing your shots in her office because it was a lot cozier. Now you were stuck in the fluorescent lit white room that reeked of chemicals.

The sudden knock on the door makes you jump, your heart skipping a beat as it slowly opens to reveal a younger woman in a long doctors coat.

"Hello Agent L/N, I'll be your doctor for today"

You don't meet her eyes instead focusing on her creased white sneakers. The sound of the doctor's palms rubbing hand sanitizer into the skin and the snap from her latex gloves twists your stomach in knots.

"We're just going to be doing two shots, a general vaccine and the seasonal flu vaccine."

The needle between her fingers approaches you sending ice throughout your veins. Suddenly you're panicking because who was this stranger that's trying to give you a shot? That's a task that only Angela was allowed to do. Then before you know it, you're arm is dodging the needle, twisting your body away from the doctor.

"Angela."

"Excuse me...?"

"I need Angela. Dr. Ziegler."

The doctor gives you a strange look, almost judgmental.

"Dr. Ziegler's unavailable at the moment"

"Please, just tell her my name and that it's an emergency"

The woman huffs and sets the needle back down on the sterilized tray. She throws her gloves into the trashcan and you watch her back as she leaves the room. A wave of relief washes over you and you drum your fingers lightly against the thin bed to pass the time.

When the door flings open and you see Angela with a worried expression your heart skips a beat again but this time it's from love not fear.

"Liebling? What's wrong? Dr. Choi told me there was an emergency. Are you hurt??"

She pushes herself in between your thighs, her hands run across your body to check for any injuries that might've been the cause of your outburst. Blue eyes, gleaming behind her glasses, scan your own worriedly.

"...I guess I got so used to you being there to comfort me that I forgot how scary shots normally are."

Angela gives you a look of disbelief and puts her face in her hands with a small laugh of relief. Then she meets your eyes once more with a more serious look. She pinches at your cheeks with furrowed eyebrows.

"Du hast mich erschreckt! I thought you were hurt!"

You whine and push at her hands in pain.

"I am hurt! Emotionally"

She lets out a chuckle while shaking her head. You watch as she goes through the same process of sanitizing her hands then putting gloves on.

"Righttt"

Angela picks up a new needle and stabs it into a small glass jar, filling it with the vaccine. She approaches you, sparing you a knowing look as you cower away when she places her left hand on your arm.

"Take deep breaths for me Liebling"

Your heart rate kicks up but you close your eyes and follow her instructions. Her hand moves up to caress your face when suddenly a mix of sensations flood your body. Though the sting from the shot doesn't compare to the soft kiss she quickly placed on your lips at the same time.

The doctor discards of the empty needle and returns back between your thighs. You throw your arms around her waist while burying your head into the collar of her coat.

"That was mean!"

Angela laughs while placing her own arms around your neck, mindlessly playing with the ends of your hair.

"But it was a good distraction, no?"

You don't respond because you both know she's right so you just stay there, content to lay in her arms.

"Liebling? We still have another shot to do"

"Ugh no!"

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

Liebling - Darling

Du hast mich erschreckt - You scared me

[gaysindistress]

Sad Girl - three

summary: James has an interesting new business’ proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, guns, violence (it is a mob au after all), Bucky’s smartass

word count: 2.2k

part 2 | series masterlist

a/n: Would anyone be interested in a series playlist? 

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident​

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

7 o’clock rolls around with no sight of the woman. Everyone starts to gather in the dining room and James looks to Natasha, silently asking her to go check on her. 

7:10 comes and goes with a saddened Natasha and a disappointed James. Maids rush up with a plate full of food. 

7:45 passes and dinner begins to dwindle done but no Miss. Stark. Maids rush back down the stairs with the same plate still full of food, now cold and untouched.

James sits in his office, walls lined with books from every imaginable author. His desk, black and sleek like the rest of his house, only holds his computer and whiskey glass. A fire flickers in the brick fire place, casting an amber cast across the room. The grandfather clock that is nestled between two book shelves shows that it’s some time after ten pm but there is no rest for the wicked. The only sounds that fill the room are the crackling of the fire, the clicks of the computer keys, and the occasional tapping on the crystal glass. 

Upstairs she has finally found peace in her pj’s, face void of any makeup and salty tears. Her hair has been combed, oiled, and put into a braid. The old black sweater hangs off her body and covers the forest green shorts she got from a friend as Christmas pj’s. Sitting in the desk’s chair, she rests her head on her knee as she stares at the computer in front of her. The screen is black and has been for hours. She can’t bring herself to work on anything or even ask for the WIFI password. Not having eaten anything, her stomach grumbles at her to go search for something, anything, an apple even. 

Groaning at her body’s demands, she gets up from the chair and works up the courage to brave the world outside of those black double doors. She debates taking something for protection but quickly shakes that from her head remembering that James had taken both guns from her. 

When she leaves her room, there is no one around and the only light she can see is coming from deep downstairs. At the top of the stairs, she starts to wring her hands truly wondering if she does need to eat but her stomach grumbles in urgency again. Bare feet slap against the freezing cold stone as she makes her way towards the massive kitchen. 

The light she spotted earlier is coming from down the hallway where Natasha said his office was at. Ignoring the urge to peak inside his office, she finds a fruit bowl in the middle of the black island. She leans over the counter and picks up a pear from the array of random fruits. This will have to do until tomorrow. She sits at the counter, eating her pear as something in her is pushing her to go investigate that light while another part is telling her to just go back upstairs. 

Tossing the core into the trashcan under the sink, she steps back into the hallway and is faced with two options; go back upstairs or go towards the light. How fucking ironic this all is? Run away from the man who basically bought her or go towards the metaphorical light and risk dying? Curiosity wins and she walks towards the office before she even realizes what is doing. 

She can hear the fire crackling and fast typing but no voices through the cracked door. Natasha had mentioned that he had a door policy but failed to mention what it actually was. All douche bags had the same policy right? Open door means come in. Cracked means knock and closed means go the fuck away. 

A light knock breaks the trance James is in and he looks towards the door in confusion. The clock reads 11:11 pm so it shouldn’t be any of his men. 

“Come in,” he says, one hand on his glass and the other sliding to the gun that was strapped under his desk. 

She opens the door a little wider and slips through the crack to face him. She takes in the office so starkly different from her fathers. Her eyes run across the walls of books and down to the simple desk he is sitting at. He too has two black couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. A bar cart is next to his desk and two rather comfortable chairs sit in front of it. 

He drops the hand reaching for the gun onto his lap and leans back into his chair, watching her and waiting for her to say something. It seems like he’s going to be waiting for a long time because she’s wordless as she slowly walks around the room, manicured nails trailing across the books. The awe that is on her face is adorable to him and makes a mental note to bring up books whenever the conversation feels stiff or forced. 

She makes it to the grandfather clock, drops her hand and rounds the desk to make herself a drink at the bar cart. The glass bottles clinking against the glass of the cart narrates her actions as she ours herself a drink of undoubtedly expensive whiskey. Drink in hand, she takes a seat in one of the chairs facing James. By now he has shed his black overcoat and black blazer leaving him a fitted white button up that have been rolled up to expose his forearms. His right arm disappears around the table but his left arm can be seen. Rumors have been spread about that left arm. Rumors she doesn't care to repeat and seem untrue because here it is, intact and covered in intricate tattoos up to his wrist. The watch he wears catches the light from the fire every now and then as he moves the glass around. 

“Did you eat?” is the only thing he can think of saying. 

She nods, still taking in all of the man that sits across from her. 

“Good,” he says, setting the glass down and shutting the computer. 

“I don’t know why I came here,” she says quietly like she’s talking to herself out loud. 

“I don’t have anything to say to you. You’re just as bad as him for saying yes. I fucking hate you for this and don’t think for a second that I will ever be okay with this.”

He nods, accepting her hatred because he knows he deserves it. 

“This is so messed up. Who gives up their daughter for some business deal?” she trails off, “I’m his daughter, he should have more respect for me than this. I mean who… who does this?”

Tears fall down her cheeks again, “Who does this, James? Who fucking does this?”

“I don’t know, Doll.” 

“Who does this?” she asks again, finally making eye contact with him. 

The tear stricken face of a once strong woman stares back at him and what breaks his resolve is the knowledge that he played a part in it. He rounds his desk to stand before her and extends a hand out to her. The fighter deep down demands she break every bone in that stupid hand but the broken and scared little girl pleads to be held and comforted even if it’s by him. 

She takes his hand and curls herself into his chest, whiskey glass and arms pined in between the two of them as he wraps his arms around her. The smell of his cologne engulfs her senses as she cries against his chest. One hand holds her head against his chest while the other rubs her back and he sets his chin on top of her head. 

“I will never stop hating you.”

“I know, Doll. I know.”

________________________________________________________________

Sleep evaded her for the rest of the night and by the time her phone awakens with her six am alarm, she’s already up. Coffee seems like the only cure for her tired eyes and exhausted soul. Crawling to the end of the bed to avoid the freezing wood floor, she digs through her suitcase searching for socks and a pair of leggings. She forgot slippers in her haste yesterday and she’s not wearing heels to get coffee so socks will have to be her armor. 

Maids and other workers can be heard getting the house ready for the day. Every now and then she hears men greet each other and cars drive around the property. Once again there is no one upstairs as she steps into the hallway. Everyone seems to be downstairs, keeping peace upstairs for their sleeping king. 

Natasha is sitting at the island, a cup of coffee in-between her hands as she talks to Steve. Neither are expecting anyone from upstairs so they pay no attention to her when she makes it down the stairs. It isn’t until Steve glances over Natasha’s shoulder that either acknowledge that she is in the kitchen with them. 

“Good morning,” Natasha greets as she spins her chair to face the woman, a smile wide on her face. 

Steve offers a small smirk and a quiet ‘morning’ over his coffee cup before he takes a drink. The woman smiles and gets her own cup, setting it down opposite of Natasha and Steve. 

“How did you sleep?” asks Natasha. 

“Fine. I didn’t make a list for the men who are getting the rest of my stuff. I’m sure my father will stop them from taking whatever he wants back. I can just buy whatever doesn’t make it here.”

“Oh okay that’s great. Did you want to go with them?”

“Oh god no,” she scoffs, “I don’t want to see him until I’m absolutely forced to and even then I’ll figure out how to get out of it.”

Steve chuckles at her answer, “I don’t doubt that, Doll.”

“Is Doll my new name?”

“Take it up with Buck if you want to change it.”

“Right because ‘Buck’ is my handler and decides what I’m called,” she rolls her eyes, turning to the fridge to find some sort of creamer for the tar black coffee. 

“We follow what he says so if he calls you Doll, we’ll call you Doll. If you calls you …” Steve is interrupted by an apple zooming past his head. 

“Say my name and I won’t miss next time,” she threatens. 

A deep chuckle comes from the entry way of the kitchen, revealing James standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Of course he’s dressed in a black suit with a burnt orange shirt at six am. 

“What would you like to be called?” he asks the irritated woman, still leaning against the entry wall. 

“Doll is fine,” she shrugs her shoulders, “for now.”

“Doll it is then,” he pushes himself off the entry way and goes to pour himself some coffee just as the others had. 

“Steve and I have some business outside of the house but we’ll be back around 10. After that I need you, Doll, to go over,” he pauses, not wanting to mention the elephant in the room, “the contract and what’s required from both of us.” 

“Sounds like fun,” she states emotionlessly, trying not to look at him and how damn attractive he looks this early in the morning. 

But if she had stolen a look or two, she would’ve seen the chain that is peaking out from under his shirt or how there’s a pearl bracelet adorning his right wrist. She may have noticed that when he moves, his suit jackets reveals a black leather shoulder holster that also clips onto his waistband. Maybe just maybe she would’ve seen that her revolver is snuggly secured on one side with his own 9mm on the other side. 

Of course she wasn’t looking because that would mean she was too distracted by the details of his outfit to notice that he was standing right beside her and the other two had left the room. 

“What happened to your ‘s’ necklace?” he asked, finger tracing the two remaining necklaces she’d pulled out of her sweater when she got up this morning. 

“I’m not a Stark anymore so I left it,” her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Left it or smashed it?” his hand traces its way up her shoulder and puts a fallen strand of hair being her ear. 

“Both.”

“Looks like you need another one to replace it now,” his hand finds itself on the back of her neck. 

“I’m not yours,” sounds hopeless on her tongue as he draws her closer to him, no more than a few inches separating the two of them. 

“Never said you were,” his blue eyes make a painful slow journey from her lips to meet hers. 

His eyes are daring her to make a move and hers are begging him to stay put. 

“I’ll see you in my office at 10:30,” his tongue darts out to lick lips and he places a kiss on her forehead, leaving her dazed and confused with the change in their relationship. 

As he walks away, she wants to scream out and throw her coffee cup because why the hell did she let him get so close to her? Why the hell did she let him touch her?

“I’ll never be yours,” she says hoping he believes her words but they both know her self control will fail her. 

[behindthescenesoftaylor]

Moonlit Confessions Kyle Broflovski X Reader

In the small mountain town of South Park, (y/n) musters the courage to confess her feelings to her longtime friend Kyle, sneaking out to his window under the moonlit night.

Like always, if you have a request PLEASE SEND IT. 💋

This was it.

Today was the day that she would finally confess her feelings to Kyle.

Was she nervous? Yes, but what good would it do to just keep her feelings bottled when she sees him every single DAY? none.

(y/n) took a final glance at herself in the mirror before taking a deep breath and heading towards the window. The moon and the stars of the night cast a small light over the small mountain town, and the snow covered the ground like a fuzzy blanket. A chilly breeze entered her room as she opened the window, careful not to make a sound and risk waking her parents. Lord only knows what her parents would do if they found out.

Her room was on the first floor so it wasn't hard to hop out. Her heavy boots hit the snow-plastered ground softly, a small crunch could be heard. Once she was out she turned back around and gently shut the window, no turning back now.

She quickly walked to the house next door and looked up to the window of Kyle's room. She could see a brisk shadow walking across. It was going to be difficult to climb this, but oh well, she could complain later.

She climbed onto a large trashcan, then onto the roof of the porch, and finally to kyles window. After gaining her breath back she cupped her hands on the sides of her eyes and looked inside, oh shit.

He was changing.

Currently, all he had on was his underwear and he was putting on some gray sweatpants. She looked, dumbfounded and she couldn't help but look at his thin figure. He had a very toned stomach for someone his size and (y/n) could tell that basketball helped, alot.

Finally, she regained her composure and awkwardly cleared her throat before lightly knocking on the window. She waited a few moments, and to her dismay, he didn't notice. She scoffed and tried again, this time louder, and this time he noticed. He squinted his eyes a little before realizing who it was and widening his eyes. He quickly looked around before walking up to the window and opening it.

“(Y/n)?! What– what are you doing?!” he whispers in a panic.

“I want to show you something..” she replied casually, as if sneaking out at night to somebody's window was a normal daily occurrence, but in south park, it wasn't a surprise. It was like the time Kyle snuck to Cartman's window to make him a freckled ginger.

She gestured for him to follow her outside but he just stood there dumbfounded.

“What do you need to show me at 11 pm at night?!”

She sighed and pressed her hand to her head, stressed.

“Kyle, just- please?!”

He leaned his head back and sighed. “Let me put on a shirt real quick”

She blushed as she realized he was still shirtless and let out a little chuckle. He turned and picked up a black tee and his hoodie and put them on.

“Ready?”

“If I get caught I'm saying you kidnapped me”

(y/n) laughed as they made their way back down. her nerves were STABBING at her, maybe she should just say she was joking and turn back? No, she didn't want to feel tortured anymore.

She lead him to an unoccupied house across the street and motioned for him to follow her up on the roof.

“The roof?! (Y/n) you’re crazy sometimes”

She just smiled and shrugged.

“Help me get up to the porch roof, there’s no trash cans.”

“Then how will I get up there?”

“With your long ass fucking legs, now help!”

He shook his head and held out his hands for (y/n) to step onto, she stepped up and then he gave her a lift, which by the way was so powerful it almost made her hit the wall of the house.

“Goddamn Kyle, you should be a cheerleader” (y/n) says while waiting for him on the side. She watched him use a fence to climb up, and slowly but surely he made it. Once he was up there he was out of breath and sat down with his hands on his knees, he looked at (y/n) and playfully scoffed. “If you become one, sure”

She laughed in disbelief, her, a cheerleader?! She was too busy with softball/volleyball (take your PICK) for that, not to mention they were both in the same season so she couldn’t really play, it wasn’t like she was going to give up her sport just so she could yell and cheer on other sports.

“Yeahhh, hard pass” she said before stepping on the top of a window seal and climbing the rest of the way up to the 2nd story roof, she looked down to see Kyle getting up.

“Jesussss, your so slowww” she whined, making herself comfortable on the roof and sitting down.

“And your slow-headed so i guess we’re even.” He smugly replied back, also climbing on the window seal and hopping up to the top of the roof. When he got up there he sat next to (y/n) and then she laid down. Her back was met with some snow that was left on the roof from the snow storm earlier today and it made her shiver a little. He looked confused but he also followed her actions, laying down on his back with his eyes pointed towards the sky.

“I have always loved the moon-“ Kyle looked to (y/n) while she looked up, he kept staring as she continued to speak “i find it.. relatable sometimes. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true.” She took a deep breath and looked at Kyle, their eyes meeting. “It’s because the moon is always present, but never fully revealed, but Kyle i don’t want my feelings to be like the moon anymore.”

He tilted his head in confusion as she went back to staring at the sky. With one more final deep breath, she let it out.

“I like you Kyle, I’ve always liked you ever since your dumb self approached me at the bus stop that one day. For the 8 years I’ve been your friend I’ve watched girls and girls who don’t even deserve you pass you up like some garbage! I don’t see how they could do that because i dreamed every night that one day I’d be with you, holding you in my arms-“ she laughed, “now I’m just getting creepy”

Kyle sat there, dumb founded, he turned his head back and too, looked at the stars.

“Please say something.” She whispered.

“(Y/n), me and Heidi are talking right now..” he said lowly and her whole world shattered. Fuck.

“Just kidding” he quickly said, making a HUGE scowl come on your face.

“You are so not funny” she shook her head as he laughed loudly, his red curls bounced with his rythm. God he was perfect.

His laughing stopped and he began to speak, “(y/n) i like you too”

Her head quickly turned to meet his eyes and a huge smile spread across her face. “What did you say?”

“I. Like. You. Too.” He then scooted closer to her, now on his knees before settling into a criss cross, she followed him and too sat, now their knees were touching. She looked into his glimmery green eyes and he looked to hers. “I have loved you for so long, I just didn’t think you would love me back.” He said.

“Love?”

“O-oh i mean if- if you don’t wan-“ he got interrupted as she gently grabbed his head and leaned in, their lips meeting. Kyle instantly melted into the kiss, taking her waist into his large hands.

Their passionate kiss quickly turned into a makeout session and he moved his hands to her hips, pulling her in closer. There wasn’t an inch of either of them that wasn’t on the other. He parted from the kiss and slowly pushed on her torso, making her lay down on her back. He climbed in between her legs and began to kiss her again, his elbows supported his weight, careful not to crush her.

Once they parted she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, he rolled over and now she was on top of him. He decided this was the best way they could cuddle so he wouldn’t crush her small frame.

“I love you Kyle”

“I love you too, (y/n)”

[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 14

anakin x reader

a/n: This chapter i longer than they have been lately, so sorry for the wait!!

Things are getting a little...complicated. 

warnings: cursing, cannon disabled character, insecurity, emetophobia, pregnancy test

_______________________________

You inhaled as you opened the box-

It's all gonna be fine…

You took the test and followed the instructions, once you were done you let it sit and you washed your hands. 

You left the bathroom to check your email- because if you stayed, you would have done nothing but watch the test calculate.

After ten minutes you walked back in and nervously reached for the white stick.

Your stomach dropped as you looked at the test…two little pink lines.

Shit.

You really thought Anakin couldn’t get you pregnant, the doctors told him it was nearly impossible for him to have children. Did he lie to you?

no, he wouldn’t lie about that.

Did he even want to have kids? Even if he did, would he want them with you? 

Your head spun as you gripped the bathroom counter to steady yourself. You never thought that this would actually happen; you were betting on the fact that it was all just nerves and that you were just going to get a late period…

Fuck.

Not only were Anakin’s feelings to be taken into account, but your own as well.

You were still in college, how would you have time to raise a child? How would you afford a child? Did you even want a child? What if-

Your racing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, who the fuck was that?

“Hey? Y/N, you in here? Your door was open but I didn’t see you in the room” Ahsoka’s voice rang from the other side of the door.

Damn.

You totally forgot she had a Brunch planned downtown. Quickly you wiped your watery eyes and prayed she wouldn’t notice anything. 

“Yea! One minute!” you responded as you shoved the test into one of the sink’s drawers and hid the box at the bottom of the trashcan. You splashed some cold water on your face to get rid of lingering redness before taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. 

It'll be ok… it has to.

_____________________________

The small cafe that Ahsoka chose for brunch was a cute mom-and-pop shop downtown. Seated around you were Ahsoka, Anakin, Ben, and Satine. The five of you were on the patio section at a sanded wooden picnic table with a large yellow umbrella. 

It was hard for Anakin to situate himself on the wooden bench so only you and him were able to fit on that side and the rest sat on the other.

Everyone’s food had arrived and they began eating, but suddenly yours didn’t look appetizing, instead you silently sipped on your coffee. 

Ben and Satine’s wedding was coming up in the next year so the discussion at the moment was centered around plans for the celebration.

“Do you have any bridesmaids picked out?” Ahsoka eagerly asked as she wiped some syrup from the corner of her mouth.

“Well actually that was something I wanted to ask you two, I feel like we’ve all gotten to know each other so well in the past months, and I’d be honored if you both would like to be bridesmaids” Satine smiled as Ben smiled beside her.

“I would love to!” You exclaimed.

“Same here! When can we plan your bachelorette party?!!” Ahsoka asked excitedly.

“No strip clubs, Ahsoka” Ben butted in, “we all know that would be more for your entertainment than Satine’s” he joked.

“Ughhhh, ok fine” Ahsoka dramatically rolled her eyes before giggling like a schoolgirl. 

The conversation continued and you grew more and more nauseous. At one point everyone was immersed in conversation and Anakin lightly squeezed your thigh under the table. When you turned to look at him, he looked concerned; his brows were furrowed and you could see the worry in his deep blue eyes. 

“Are you ok?” he mouthed and you nodded. 

“You haven’t touched your food,” he said. 

With the mention of food you feel your nausea taking over. Suddenly you stood up and hurried to the bathroom inside, you were going to throw up. 

Once you were inside you quickly leaned over the porcelain seat and emptied the minimal contents of your stomach. Maybe it was the nerves or maybe it was morning sickness, either way, you felt absolutely awful. 

You wiped your mouth and popped in a mint and some gum you had in your purse.

They were all going to ask about you. 

You leaned against the stall and shut your eyes; this was really happening. 

_____________________________

Outside the four friends were left wondering where you went in such a hurry.

“She barely touched her toast,” Ahsoka commented.

Anakin knew something was wrong.

“Is she not feeling well?” Ben asked.

Soon you emerged from the restraint with a pale face.

“Maker! Y/n are you ok?” Satine gasped, hurrying to bring you water.

“Yea, I'm fine. I’m just not feeling the best, I think I’m gonna go back home and take a nap.”

You got out your phone to call an Uber but then Ben asked “didn’t you come with Ahsoka?” 

“Yea, but she has a function after this with the athletes association and I don’t wanna make her take me all the way back to campus”

“It’s no problem y/n, I can” she butted in.

“No, no-“ you began but Anakin cut you off. 

“I can take her, Snips you should go to your meeting, plus I need to run a few errands on that side of town”.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yea, this bench is hurting my ass anyways” he added as he began to get up. 

The two of you said your goodbyes and headed to his car. Once you were out of sight from the table, he rested his hand on the small of your back.

“I know something’s up, what’s wrong sweetheart?” He asked, his voice laced with concern.

“It’s really nothing Ani, I just don’t feel well” you said.

“Have you been eating?” He asked, opening the door to his car for you to enter.

“I don’t know, I haven’t really been hungry” you admitted.

He entered the other side and started his car; the drive to campus was a silent one. You looked out the window, mainly focusing on keeping your emotions in check. 

You began to feel light headed, you needed food. Soon enough Anakin pulled up to the curb near your dorm and parked the car. He turned towards you and lightly brushed your cheek.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked nervously. 

You knew he was insecure about affection and relationships; his last one seemed to be going so well but it still ended in heartbreak. Your heart twinged, you never wanted him to feel like that with you. 

“No babe, I really just don’t feel well. I promise you, you have done nothing wrong” You said as you opened the car door. 

“Would you like me to walk you to your room or-“

“I’m ok, Ani. Thank you though” you said as you closed the door. 

He nodded and you waved him off before heading back to your dorm. 

______________________________

School finally ended and you had your first appointment for your pregnancy. 

You were around ten weeks… what the fuck. 

You had to check that they were looking at the right chart because you had only missed your period once; the nurse assured you that false periods were common and that not all expecting mothers had the early signs within the first weeks. 

You were barely showing, even for being in the first trimester but she also told you that not all pregnancies showed early on.

Honestly that benefited you; you had longer to figure out what you were going to do about this and when you were finally going to tell Anakin. 

You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, so you didn’t even bother to consult them. But you were scared. 

You were only in undergrad and had no stable income- how were you going to raise a child?

There always were other options, you could make the decision to have an abortion, or you could give the child up for adoption?

No, no. You shouldn’t be making plans without consulting Anakin first…

But that was a whole other problem…you had to tell Anakin. 

The whole situation was crazy, but you knew that he was the only person you had been with intimately since last summer… there was no one else who could be the father.

The doctors said it wasnt likely that he could have kids ...not impossible.

But he was so sure that he was infertile, would he even believe you? Or would he freak out?

You truly held him so dear to your heart; it made you nauseous to think what would happen if this pregnancy ruined your relationship. 

But no matter your worries, you needed to tell him relatively soon before you began to show.

__________________________________________

Ahsoka left town that weekend for her tournament and the rest of the group had a small watch party for her match. Anakin brought you over to Ben and Satine’s place after you decked him out in your school’s merch.

He wore a tight long sleeve that showed off his upper arm muscles nicely and a pair of gray sweats with the school’s logo along the pant leg. You wore a short tennis skirt and a cheerleader uniform top and some sneakers you painted for games. 

It was actually really cute to see your boyfriend repping your university’s colors- it made you blush.

Apparently he had never really been enthusiastic about sports but on the car ride over he told you how happy it made him to be wearing your colors (of course he was proud to rep Ahsoka too, but the fact that his girlfriend went there too was a huge bonus).

The four of you sat around Ben’s flat screen and cheered as your school scored point after point; you knew your school was good, but not that good!

Ahsoka’s team was up against another highly acclaimed school with a stellar athletic record, but they were being crushed by your team.

After a few bowls of popcorn and other game foods, Ahsoka’s team secures a sweeping victory, it was almost embarrassing how much the other team lost by. 

You and Anakin thanked the others for having you over and then went back to his place.

He flung the door open and entered the living room with your lips on his; his gloved hands pawed at your back as his breathing quickened. You headed towards the sofa and gently pushed him down.

He spread his legs as he sat and beckoned for you to sit in his lap with a needy gaze. You complied, straddling his lap with a bare thigh on either side of him; your skirt wasn’t much help to cover your ass from feeling the soft material of his pants. 

With his non-driving hand, he grabbed a handful of your ass and lightly bit at your neck. His lips felt like heaven on your skin.

“A-Anak-” you sighed as you began to grind your hips into his.

“Yea Princess?” he asked through kisses.

“Lay down”

He nodded and you helped him shift his legs onto the sofa before mounting him again. You continued to grind on his clothed cock as you ran your fingers down his chest, leaving the faintest red trails of passion.

He moaned at every thrust you dealt and shuddered when you would pass over his tip. 

“Fuck P-Princess- it f-feels so good- mmmhh” he tossed his head back in sheer pleasure.

In the moment you forgot all about the matter you needed to discuss with your boyfriend, instead only clouds of lust formed in your brain. 

You bent down and hugged him close to your chest as he began to buck his hips into your thighs. His hard member kept running over your sensitive clit…. You were close.

“Nnghh- Y-Y/N s-slow down” he said as he steadied your hips.

“Why? What's wrong babe?” you asked, still lightly swiveling your hips.

“I-I don’t wanna cum yet” he admitted. 

A mischievous grin landed on your face as you sat still for a moment before grinding harder than you had previously been. 

“Fuck!” he shouted before he wrapped his arms around you and shuddered. You could feel the warmth of his cum through his pants. 

With each small move you made, a small noise would escape the man under you. You eventually got off and lifted his waistband to see your work; his dick was coated in cum and was still twitching.

You smiled but then the dreaded feeling of doubt found its way back into your head. 

The news.

He needed to know and preferably sometime soon. 

Anakin breathed heavily on the couch as you retrieved his inhaler; once he was good he gently guided your face to his lips and gave you a loving kiss. 

“I love you so much Y/N… so so much”  he sighed.

Maker… you hoped he loved you enough to get through the news you would eventually have to tell him.

***

A/N: Stuff is heating up guys!!! Hopefully you are all ok w/ the turn this story is taking (IK pregnancy is not everyone’s favorite trope) But I havent written a pregg reader story in an ongoing series so I wanted to try it out (its good for angst heheh)

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimon

[rainydaymiscellaneous]

Sick Day (Xavier x Fem!reader)

Summary: you become sick after falling into the lake during the poe cup. Your boyfriend takes care of you.

Warnings: sickness, throwing up, swearing

That poe cup. That god damn poe cup. You hated that you got roped into that fucking competition to begin with. It didn't help that your canoe sank and you were ice cold by the time the competition was over. Xavier noticed you shivering on the docks, grabbing his dry jacket from his back and wrapping it around you.

"It's so fucking cold" you whined. He chuckled, kissing your forehead. "Your facepaint is wearing off by the way." You said, helping him with his smudged eye paint. He rolled his eyes and you sneezed. He frowned. "You're not getting sick are you?" He asked. "I'm sure I'm just cold- ACHOO!" You sneezed out.

Just cold. Right. "Just cold" turned into the flu. Xavier didn't realize you were sick until you weren't by his side in Thornhill's class. "Has anyone seen Miss Y/n?" She asked. "She's sick with the flu." Odelia, your roommate answered. "Oh! Oh no, I hope she feels better." Thornhill said. She noticed the look on Xavier's face. "...Mister Thorpe, if you'd like to check on her-" that was all he needed to hear, him leaving almost immediately.

He gathered things from the pantry. Saltines, chicken noodle soup, sprite... things that would make you feel comfortable. He knocked on your door and he heard a congested "I promise I'm fine Miss Weems" before the door opened. You blinked. "Xay?" You asked. He held up the bowl of soup and you opened the door for him to come in. He sat down his things, you sitting on your bed as Xavier pulled your desk chair to your bedside. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting sick?" He asked. "Dunno... I honestly thought it was allergies. They usually flare up around this time." You admitted. He put his hand to your forehead. "You're hot." He noticed. "No you are." You joked. He rolled his eyes. "Lay down baby. Get some rest." He said. "I've been sleeping all day.. I'm not really tired." You admitted.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. "Anything I've eaten won't stay down." You sighed, flopping onto the bed. He nudged the sprite he got for you on your nightstand. You took it. "You shouldn't be here. You'll get sick." You said. "Someone's got to take care of you." He said. You sighed. "You took a covid test?" He asked. "Weems made me take three." You said. "Negative?" "Yep." You said. "Well that's good at least. I remember when I got it last year I fucking hated it. Couldn't taste anything for a while." He said. You opened your mouth to speak but halted, grabbing your trashcan and throwing up instead.

Xavier picked up your wrist, pulling a hair tie from it and pulled back your hair as you lingered over the garbage can. "I hate my life at this moment." You whined. "It'll be okay..." he soothed. "I feel like shit." "I know baby." "And the worst part? I need a shower. I don't want to walk." You whined. "Well, I can't exactly help you there. But if we get you a mask I'm sure Odette would help." He said. "Or ask me." Yoko said, standing in the doorway.

You looked over. "Hi Yoko." You greeted. "You need help?" She asked. "Please." You nodded. "I got her. Try to clean up her... nest... she's made." Yoko said, helping you up.

Xavier cleaned up, throwing away tissues and empty nyquil packets. He even went as far as to change your sheets, ensuring you'd be comfortable. Yoko brought you back, you walking back in a hoodie of Xavier's. You laid down, sighing. "I'm missing so much school work right now." You said. "Worry about that later... right now you should hydrate." He said, pulling out a water bottle. "Thanks Xay." You said. "You're welcome sweetheart" he said, getting up. "Don't go." You said. He turned. "I don't want to be alone..." you admitted. He sat back down. "I'm not going anywhere. Not when you need me." He said, holding your hand. You smiled slightly at him before coughing.

As the day carried on, he ended up laying next to you, watching movies on his laptop while you tried to recover. Day after day, he was there taking care of you. You were surprised he didn't get sick but he would sit by your bedside drawing while you slept. He'd bring you food, he'd help you walk if you needed to...

You were reading in bed, him drawing next to you. "Hey, Xavier?" You asked. Your use of his full name got his attention, him looking up. "Yes Y/n?" He asked, letting you know you had his full attention. "I love you. You know that right?" You asked. It was the first either of you had said that out loud. Through text? Yeah. Out loud was another story.

He smiled, kissing your knuckles. "I love you too Y/n."

[rindecisions]

From Hell and Back Chapter 2 | capiendum

Explicit | 10k/160k | Demon Eddie

Find the rest and more here

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One by one, Steve managed to put the pieces together. He and Robin ended up summoning a demon that also happened to be Eddie, or at least looked like him. He accidentally let it free, and it kissed him before disappearing to who knows where. His eyes opened wide as he realized that he just unleashed a demon on the world. Shit!

“What do I do?” he said to himself, pacing back and forth in his living room. “Robin!” He scrambled to his phone and dialed her. He bounced on his toes while he waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” she answered groggily.

“I fucked up!” Steve shouted.

“Woah, calm down. Tell me what happened. Do you need me to come over?”

“Yeah, it’d be easier to explain in person.” Steve sighed.

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”

They hung up, and Steve rested his head on the wall. He glanced over at the salt mess and decided to at least clean while he waited for Robin to get there. After about twenty minutes, there was a knock at Steve’s door. He rushed over and opened it. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” Robin said as she walked in, holding two paper coffee cups. “I had to drop Vickie off at work and I wanted some coffee. I grabbed your favorite. Vanilla latte, no foam.” She handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He took it. “But this is serious!”

“Then explain,” she said as she walked into his living room and froze. There was a pentagram burned into the carpet. “What happened?”

Steve walked over to the trashcan and pulled out the paper that Robin had written on the night prior. “I read it aloud.”

Robin snickered. “Oh, come on. Halloween is over.”

“Do you think I would have burned my fucking carpet as a joke?” Steve snapped.

He had a point. He was a bit of a clean freak. She sighed and decided to at least humor the idea. A large part of her wanted it to be true, anyway. “So tell me what happened after you read it.”

Steve sat on the couch and nodded for Robin to join him. They drank their coffee as he explained everything that had happened. “Then he appeared in front of me out of nowhere and kissed me, like really kissed me. I pushed him away and… poof.” Steve made a bursting motion with his hands. “He was gone.”

“And you’re sure this wasn’t a dream?”

“Did you forget about my carpet?”

“Right…” Robin stared at her empty cup. “So, what do you want to do?”

“That’s why I called you. I have no idea.” He put his face in his hands. “But I can’t just let him run wild out there.”

“How are we supposed to find a shapeshifting demon in Indianapolis?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned. “You know more about this supernatural shit than I do.”

Robin set the cup down on the table and laced her fingers in front of her while she thought. “I mean, the best way to attract anything is to give it what it wants.”

“How the hell would I know what that is?”

“Well, if it really is Eddie, we know his taste in music, and he did say he wanted to explore sins of the flesh… so…” She raised a sympathetic eyebrow at Steve.

Steve squinted at her. “So, what, we need to find him a girlfriend or something? Do you know what his type is?”

“Uh, Steve, didn’t you say he kissed you?”

“Yeah, but what does that…” What Robin was getting at finally sunk in and his eyes opened wide.

“I think Eddie’s gay, and I think you’re his type.”

“No,” Steve said firmly.

“I can do some more research, but at the moment, offering yourself as a… well, a sex sacrifice is our best option.” Robin cringed in pity.

“Yeah, do more research. I’m not doing that.”

“He also said he can’t hurt humans, so in all honesty, you’d probably just end up having a good time.” She shrugged.

“I don’t think so,” he growled. “And while you’re looking into how to find him, also find out how to banish him back to Hell.”

She nodded. “I’ll head to the library, coming with?”

Steve nodded and followed her out the door.

They spent their whole day off at the library and in occult shops. By the end of it, they had hundreds of ways to ward off a demon, but no ways to attract or banish one. They each checked out a stack of books from the library to go through later. When Steve got home, he set the books on the coffee table and sighed at the pentagram burned into his carpet. That’s coming out of my deposit.

Steve and Robin both had work the next day, but continued to research when they could. By the next weekend, they’d come up with a plan.

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Robin helped Steve get dressed in a white and gold outfit. “Usually this is done with virgins, but I mean, in this case, I guess you could be considered a virgin.” She paused and squinted. “Unless you’ve ever—”

“No!” Steve shouted. “I have not, thank you very much.”

Robin laughed at Steve’s adamancy. “Then I guess we can consider you a virgin,” she continued to chuckle.

Steve groaned as he let her dress him in the sheer, flowy white clothes. “Is the outfit really necessary?”

“I don’t know, but it’s usually mentioned in rituals, and I figured you didn’t want to do this twice.”

“True,” Steve sighed. “But I feel like a fucking idiot.”

“You should. I warned you not to say those words, and who doesn’t know about the salt barrier?!” She shook her head. “Seriously…”

“Sorry, I don’t know anything about this witch shit.”

“You see it in horror movies all the time!”

“I didn’t know that was salt! I thought it was some kind of magic powder.”

Deciding not to continue the argument, she rolled her eyes and stepped back to look at her work. Steve’s pants were sheer white harem style with wide slits that ran from his hips to his ankles. The fabric bunched in the groin area, creating an acceptable censor. The pants themselves were held up by a gold chain that rested low on his hips. He had a delicate, gold chain mail mesh draped over his collarbone. The largest chain went from the center of the choker to just above his diaphragm and was attached to a thin gold hoop about the size of his palm. Three more chains were attached to the loop. One connected straight down to the chain belt, holding up the pants. The other two were on either side, draping around the small of his waist and up his back, connecting back to the choker at the nape of his neck.

Steve winced as he moved. “It keeps catching on my chest hair.” He shifted the hoop on his chest.

“You should have waxed.”

“Yeah, no, this stupid outfit is plenty.”

“I hope this works,” Robin sighed.

“I kind of hope it doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“Did you get the music?”

“Yeah.” Steve walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up a small plastic bag. He pulled out a Metallica CD. “Apparently it was just released.”

“Let’s hope he prefers new over nostalgia.”

“Shit, I didn’t think about that.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she reassured.

Steve sighed and took the disk out. He found the feeling of the flowy fabric strange as he walked over to his stereo. “Ready?” he asked flatly.

“Ready as I can be.” Robin nodded.

Steve nodded back and put the CD in. He pressed play and turned up the volume as ‘Enter Sandman’ started. Luckily, his apartment had thick walls, so he didn’t need to worry too much about disturbing his neighbors.

He approached his room with a deep sigh and got onto his bed. “Come on Eddie,” he muttered softly as he sat himself in the center of his bed on top of the blankets. He was anxious about what was going to happen. His mind wandered onto the forced kiss, recalling the slick texture of his slender tongue and the excessive heat he radiated. He swallowed nervously at the thought of experiencing that again.

The next song on the album started, and he fell back onto the bed with one knee up, the sheer cloth falling away from it. The more time that passed, the dumber he felt sitting there in the ridiculous clothing. Maybe Robin was wrong, and Eddie didn’t want him, but why did that thought sting? Steve groaned and laid his arms flat beside him, the chains on his chest faintly jingling as he did. If Eddie did show up, what would he even do? They had the plan, but if that didn’t work, then what?

Another song passed with no Eddie. Maybe he grabbed the wrong album. ‘The Unforgiven’ started and he put his hands behind his head, listening to the surprisingly gentle tune.

His anxiety rose as tendrils of black smoke flowed from under the bed and crept over the blanket toward him. Steve sat up and backed away from the approaching smoke. His back hit the headboard, his heart racing.

He watched in horror as one of the tendrils reached him and slid into the opening of his pants near his ankle. The feeling was faint, but it was there as it gradually slid up his leg, wrapping around it in the process. He jumped when the smoke shot away and swirled together in front of him.

“Is this all for me, Harrington?” Eddie’s cool voice filled the room as the smoke came together to form him.

“I-” Steve froze and swallowed. Follow the plan. “I remembered that you said you were interested in, well…”

Eddie smiled and crawled between Steve’s legs, running his hands from ankle to thigh as he got closer. He teased a kiss that Steve almost leaned into. Eddie sighed as he ran his hands up Steve’s waist and placed his mouth near his ear. “Were you about to say…” he ran his long, forked tongue over the ridge of his ear, getting a sharp, shuddered inhale from Steve. “Sins of the flesh?” Eddie leaned back and smiled coyly. “As in… sex?”

Steve nodded, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating demon. “I didn’t think you were going to show up.” His heart was already racing.

“How could I not when my favorite meal is wrapped up so nicely?” He delicately hooked the claw of his black-tipped index finger under the metal hoop on Steve’s chest. “Are you really offering yourself to me?”

Come on Robin. “Y—yeah,” Steve said tentatively.

“You don’t sound very sure, Steve.” He brushed Steve’s hair back and looked over his worried face.

Steve was almost trembling at the proximity. “How… how can anyone be sure when they’re offering their body to a fucking demon?”

Eddie smiled and teased another kiss. “I already told you, I can’t hurt you, so why so scared?”

“I—” Steve sighed. “I’ve never been with a man.”

One of Eddie’s prominent canines dug into his lip as he bit it. “Are you saying you’re a virgin?”

“In that sense.” Steve looked away. Robin!!! He wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling, but it wasn’t exactly fear, even though it felt similar.

“I wonder if what they say is true, that virgins are an indescribable delicacy.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at being called a virgin. He’d been called a man-whore more times than he could count and yet today alone he’d already been labeled a virgin multiple times. “I really don’t think I count as a virgin.”

“Well, let’s find out how you taste.” Eddie locked their mouths together and slid his hands over Steve’s exposed thighs.

Steve tensed as he let Eddie explore his mouth with his unnatural tongue. He closed his eyes tightly, uncertain of what to think of his body reacting to Eddie’s touch. His mind started to fog, and he couldn’t help but join in the kiss.

Eddie hummed at the acceptance and gently pressed his fingers into the soft skin of Steve’s thigh. The chains down Eddie’s arms dragged against Steve’s legs as he rubbed his hands over his upper thighs and the sides of his ass. How the chains weren’t catching on his body hair, Steve had no idea.

“Got it!” Robin’s voice called from the other room.

A small part of Steve was disappointed when Eddie whipped his head away and looked toward the door.

“What?” Eddie glanced back at Steve. “What did you do?” he asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

Steve blinked off his haze. “We trapped you,” he panted. “You can’t leave.”

“No.” Eddie leaped off of Steve and ran out into the living room.

“Jesus Christ!” Robin shouted as soon as she saw him for the first time, nearly tripping over herself to get out of his way. “You’re real!?”

Eddie rushed to the door but stopped in his tracks. He ran his finger through the air a few inches in front of it. The same sparks from the cage trailed behind his claw. “Clever.” He turned to face them. “So now what?” he said flatly, staring at them with an unamused expression.

“Now we figure out how to banish you,” Steve said, unclasping the gold choker.

Eddie rolled his eyes and whipped his slender tail with a small crack. “Eddie the Banished all over again, I see.”

Robin swallowed and gathered herself, still a little shocked to be staring at literal proof of the afterlife. “I don’t think you belong here, Eddie,” she said sympathetically.

“I guess I don’t belong anywhere, now do I?” he growled. “That shit even follows me into the fucking afterlife.” He sighed and walked over to the couch, running his tail up Steve’s spine as he passed. Steve shot up straight at the feeling and shivered, goosebumps blooming on his skin. Eddie fell heavily onto the couch, chains jingling as he rested his head on the armrest and crossed his legs.

“I’m going to get changed,” Steve stated as he lowered the chains that decorated him.

Eddie sat up and looked at Steve with a disappointed expression. “You were never actually offering yourself to me, were you?”

“As you said before, humans can lie.” Steve walked into his room, holding up the sheer pants.

Robin glanced at Eddie and felt bad when she saw his genuinely hurt expression. “It really is you, isn’t it?” she asked tentatively. Even with his demonic appearance, she could clearly see the Eddie they knew underneath.

Eddie glanced at her and sighed, settling back into the couch. “Yeah…”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, sitting in a chair beside the couch. “We couldn’t think of any other way to bring you back.”

“You literally could have just called my name,” he said with flat annoyance. “Or rather, Steve could. He’s technically the one who summoned me, so I can hear anything he wants me to hear. If he calls, I have to come.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup,” Eddie said plainly.

“Shit, now I’m extra sorry. I—I knew you had a thing for Steve even before you died, so it was my idea to use him as bait.” Now that she was talking with him, she could look past his inhuman exterior. It helped that his voice seemed the same as it was before.

“Wait, you knew?” Eddie looked at her, surprised.

Robin chuckled. “Were you trying to be subtle? I think just about everyone except Steve picked up on it to some degree.”

“Was I really that obvious?” Eddie smiled at her.

“Yeah,” she huffed in amusement.

Eddie smirked and glanced at her. “I will say you wrapped my present damn well.” Eddie sighed. “Fuck, that was hot. I’m sad he’s changing, but it’s probably for the best if he doesn’t want me to jump him.”

Robin squinted and looked over his body. “Not to be rude, but you’re built like a Ken doll.”

Eddie stared at her blankly for a few seconds before saying, “I’m a shapeshifter. I’ll leave the rest to your imagination.”

“Oh…” she hummed as realization fell over her.

“Yup.”

“Then do you just choose to stay in this form?”

“I guess you can call this my default physical form.” He raised a hand in front of his face, chains draping off of blank silver rings and down his arm. “Anything else takes some amount of focus to create.”

Robin squinted at him. “Do you have a non-physical form?”

Before Eddie could respond, Steve walked out of his room in normal clothes.

“What took you so long?” Robin asked.

Steve groaned. “I couldn’t figure out the fucking chains and ended up getting tangled in them.”

Both Robin and Eddie snickered.

Steve mocked laughter back at them. “You seem oddly comfortable around him already.”

“I mean.” Robin looked between them. “It’s still Eddie.”

“It’s weird, is what it is.”

Robin raised an eyebrow at Steve. “We fought monsters in an alternate dimension against a man with psychic powers, with the help of a girl who also has psychic powers, ultimately destroying our hometown, but our friend returning as a demon is what’s weird?”

Steve sighed a laugh. “I guess you have a point.”

Steve leaned on the wall near the end of the couch. “So, are you going to tell us how you got this way?”

Eddie sighed and heaved himself into a sitting position. “I suppose I did say that I would.” He looked at his hands and spun the cuffs on his wrists back and forth, twisting the attached chains to their limit and back again. “Believe it or not, they actually sent me to Heaven first. Turns out sacrificing yourself is a one-way ticket. Also, they don’t actually care about the whole gay thing at all, and it’s way easier to get into Heaven than people let on. Apparently, I was never on their shit list in the first place. That was a shocker. And to get into Hell, you really need to do some fucked up shit.” Eddie looked between them. “But, I digress. Heaven was alright. Ended up losing my virginity. There are lots of pretty boys up there to play with.”

“Wait,” Steve interrupted. “You died a virgin?” he asked in shock.

“Yup.” He pursed his face in annoyance. “No one wants a gay freak, apparently.”

Robin looked at him with deep pity and understanding.

“That goes for Heaven too, as I’ve found.” He rested his head on the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

Steve squinted when he looked at the chains on Eddie’s neck. There were three of them, evenly spaced. His hair had fallen back enough to show that the chains were attached to small loops pierced through the side of his neck, aligning with his earlobe. His attention snapped back to Eddie’s face when he started speaking again.

“Supposedly, I was a nuisance to some degree. They never told me why, but I was thrown from Heaven and into Hell. When that happens, you don’t go to Hell to be punished. You go there to serve. So, in short, I’m a fallen angel, as is nearly every other demon out there.”

“You’ve mentioned that before, serving?” Steve asked. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Me and the millions of others do as the Dark Lord says, no questions asked.”

“But what do you do?”

“That, I can’t tell you. There’s some information we can’t give to humans. The only reason I was able to tell you the other shit is that no one would believe you if you said anything. With people getting more skeptical and jaded, they’ve laxed on a few rules.” Eddie sighed heavily and fell to his side, lying on the couch. “But that’s the basics of it.”

“Wow,” Robin said softly. “No rest, even in the afterlife.”

Eddie huffed through his nose.

Robin gasped when she looked at her watch. “Oh, shit,” she exclaimed. “I need to pick up Vickie in like ten minutes.”

“Wait,” Steve panicked. “You can’t just leave me here with him.”

She grabbed her bag and stood. “What do you want me to do, Steve? It was your idea to trap him in your apartment.” She glanced at her watch nervously. “And if I’m being honest, he’s kind of your responsibility.” She gave him a sympathetic grimace as she backed toward the door.

“I wasn’t the one who wanted to do the stupid summoning in the first place,” Steve retorted.

“But I did tell you not to speak the Latin.” She placed her hand on the door knob. “I really have to go.”

“Can you kick that salt barrier on your way out?” Eddie yelled after her.

“Sorry, Eddie. No can do. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Steve. Love you, bye!” she called back before she rushed out the door, leaving the apartment in an awkward silence.

Steve jut his hand in Eddie’s direction. “But Rob…” He groaned and looked between the closed door and Eddie. He lowered his arm and stared at the strange sight.

Steve glanced away from the demon on his couch with an exasperated sigh. Eddie pursed his lips and did the same before turning himself invisible.

“Woah!” Steve exclaimed. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I haven’t gone anywhere,” Eddie’s disembodied voice carried from the couch. “You just seem to dislike looking at me, so I thought I’d save you the trouble.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Steve groaned. He automatically fell into babysitter mode whenever someone started acting like a child, even if that someone was a strange supernatural being and a grown-ass man.

“Maybe, but what you two pulled was a real dick move.”

Steve could hear him shifting on the couch, and by the movement of the indent in the cushions, he could assume that Eddie turned to face away from him.

Eddie may have found Steve incredibly gorgeous, but in that moment, the cloth of Steve’s couch cushion was more welcoming. He took a slow breath before saying, “I know you heard my conversation with Robin earlier.”

Steve sighed and sat in the chair Robin was in earlier. It was the closest chair to where he assumed Eddie’s face was. “Yeah, I did. I honestly didn’t know you had a thing for me like that. I’m sorry, I’m just not into men.”

“I figured.” Eddie let himself become visible again and turned to look at Steve. “But if I’m going to be stuck in here with you, I can’t guarantee I won’t try things from time to time. Just letting you know.”

Steve took a deep breath. A part of him found a thrill in Eddie’s words, but the majority of him found it terrifying.

“If seeing me like this bothers you, I don’t mind taking my original form when you’re around.”

Steve shook his head. “Sure, it’s weird, but it may be weirder to essentially live with an exact replica of someone I saw the corpse of.”

Eddie chuckled. “I could see that.” He sat up and looked at Steve. “You say ‘replica’. Do you still not believe I’m who I say I am?”

“It’s not that,” Steve sighed and rested his head against the back of the seat. “I just know that’s not your body anymore, which is why I said ‘replica’. Sure, there’s a part of me that can’t fully accept that you’re Eddie, but I can’t find any logical explanation for what else you could be. Not that any of this makes any damn sense.”

Eddie smiled. “It may seem that way right now, but you gain a new perspective on things after you die, and it all starts to make more sense. Most of it’s incomprehensible while you’re alive.”

“You really make it sound like death’s not that big of a deal.”

“In the end, it’s not.” Eddie shrugged. “But even the state I’m in is temporary. I’d still say live it to the fullest, man. It’s what you’ll have to hold onto until you return to the cycle.”

“Cycle?” Steve squinted.

Eddie sighed. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s kind of like a reincarnation. You’ll understand in about 60 years or so.”

Steve paused and fell into deep thought before saying, “Wait, do I die in my mid-eighties?”

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. No more questions about the afterlife,” Eddie said firmly.

Steve laughed and looked at the surreal sight of a demon on his couch. “Hey, I need to head out for a bit.” Steve stood and stretched. “Is there anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Cigs and some weed would be great.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely Eddie.”

Eddie chuckled and watched Steve grab his car keys.

“I’ll see what I can do. Sometimes Robin has a joint or two kicking around, and.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed Eddie a half-empty pack of cigarettes. “Knock yourself out.”

“Sweet.” Eddie took one out and blew a flame onto the tip, taking a deep inhale and blowing the smoke out of his nose. “Ah, I’ve missed that.”

“Do you eat or anything?”

“I can, but it’d be for nothing other than to enjoy the act of it. I don’t need it to survive. Oh.” He perked. “Grab a six-pack.” He leaned back and balanced the filter end on his forked tongue in front of his face.

Steve paused as more memories he tried to forget flashed through his mind. He shook his head and walked to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t wreck the place.” He gave a blind wave and left.

A wide grin spread over Eddie’s face as he curled his tongue around the cigarette, snuffing it.

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

“I don’t know what to do, Rob,” Steve said, pacing back and forth in Robin’s living room.

Robin stared at him flatly from the couch. “I don’t see what’s so hard about it.” She shrugged. “Just sleep with him.”

“That’s the problem. I’m not gay.” He sighed and fell heavily onto the couch beside her.

“No, you’re not, but you don’t have to be gay to like men.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “Isn’t that the definition of gay?”

“Actually, the definition of gay is happy, but that’s beside the point. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of bi?”

He stared at her blankly. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place from what.

With a heavy groan of a sigh, she went on to explain. “It means you like both men and women.”

“Wait, that’s a thing?” He looked at her with wide eyes.

“Of course it is. Vickie’s bi.”

“Really? I thought you just turned her gay.”

Robin rubbed her temples with an annoyed expression. “Look, even before Eddie died five years ago, you two had chemistry.”

Steve gave her a shocked and offended glance. “No, we didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” she argued softly. “Everyone saw it but you. Even Nancy picked up on it.”

“Seriously?” Steve glanced at the floor, trying to think back to the memories he’d been forcing down.

“Any time you were around each other, both of you gravitated to the other. Not to mention you visibly relaxed every time your eyes met his.”

“No, I—” Steve looked at her briefly before looking back at the floor. He tried to recall the moments she was talking about, but so much was going on around that time that it was hard to remember the nuances.

“You literally just told me that you wanted to continue what I interrupted, so why don’t you go home and do just that?”

“I said I think I did,” he corrected firmly. “I—I just don’t know for certain.”

Robin took a deep breath. She was used to walking him through things he didn’t understand, including his own mind, but that didn’t mean it was any less annoying than the first time she had to do it. “Have you ever made out with someone you weren’t interested in?”

Steve thought back. There was a girl who tried to force herself on him at a bar once. “Yeah.”

“What did it feel like?”

“It was awkward and gross.”

“What did you feel when Eddie kissed you?” She glanced over at Steve, who was looking at the carpet with a shell-shocked expression. From her angle, she could see the tint of pink on his ear and on the corner of his cheek. “Well?”

“I—” Steve choked. “I felt my whole body light up. There was almost this… static-like feeling.”

Robin grinned. “That should be all the proof you need.”

He quickly looked over at her with a worried expression. “But what if he was using some weird demon magic on me?”

“Ask him.” She shrugged. “He can’t lie, remember?”

Steve pursed his lips in uncertainty. “It feels dumb to trust a demon.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Robin chuckled. “Even though he hasn’t given us any reason to think of him as a threat, I’m going to keep looking for a way to return him to where he came from, but until then, why don’t you just enjoy this insanely unique opportunity you’ve been given? I mean, he’s a fucking shapeshifter. Wrap your brain around that.”

“I don’t get it,” Steve said flatly.

“Of course you don’t,” she sighed. “He can—” she paused and closed her eyes. “Y’know what?” She smirked at him. “I’ll just let you figure that one out on your own. Even without my help, you two would have ended up sleeping with each other at some point.”

“I still don’t know if I’m going to,” Steve said quickly.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You will.”

༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒༒

@steddiebang

[lionydoorin]

Since I know you want to put Tara in the blender — how do you think Christina Carpenter handled Sam’s leaving to Tara?

😁 what makes you think i would ever wanna put tara in the blender

i think this could go one of two ways: either christina doesn't tell her (in fact, she doesn't give a fuck about sam leaving and doesn't bother in telling tara) and tara discovers by herself or she storms into tara's room drunk out of her mind and lashes out on her.

whether christina tells her or not, i feel that sam still checks in on tara one last time before she leaves. they were already distant by then, but her love for her sister surpassed anything and she knew she had to properly say goodbye. tara doesn't see or remember it, though, because sam makes sure to sneak into her room in the middle of the night to kiss her forehead and caress her hair one last time.

tara only shifts a little and nuzzles unconsciously into her touch.

when she's up, a few hours later, she feels something is different. tara can't pinpoint exactly what, but something's different when she sits down to eat her cereal and her mother is already mixing a drink with her morning coffee.

something is different when she leaves for class and doesn't see sam's shoes by the door — sam never wakes up early, not since she graduated. she figures, probably, that sam might've not even come home last night, too busy getting high somewhere to even bother.

but a certain knot on her throat bothers her for the rest of the day.

in the "christina doesn't give a fuck" scenario, when tara is back, her mother is probably passed out on the couch with a few bottles around her, a half-empty whiskey one in her hand. tara walks up the stairs in the direction of her room, but stops as she passes by sam's closed door.

the sense of something being wrong comes back to her.

she knocks on her sister's door, opens it when she gets no response. the room is empty and surprisingly tidy — no sheets or discarded clothes on the floor, an empty trashcan, not a single candy wrap or piece of paper adorning the floor. the closet is open, displaying a completely empty clothing rack; emptied shelves, open drawers, and a single picture on the board she kept up.

sam and tara when they went camping eight years prior, hugging each other with a big smile, mud and dirt all over them.

tears well up in tara's eyes as she removes the picture from the pin board, tracing her fingers through sam's face. she huffs, turning back and storming out of the room, heavy steps as she stomps into the living room and stops in front of her mother.

"where is she," she all but demands, anger in her tone, squeezing the picture against her hand. when christina doesn't respond, she continues, "where is she, mom? what did you do to sam?"

her mother groans, covering her face with her free arm as she turns, bottle twitching on her hand and dripping whiskey on the floor. "out."

"why is her room empty? why did she leave? why won't you tell me anyth-"

"i don't fucking know, tara!" her mother shoots up, dizzy, drowsy voice from the alcohol in her veins. she spills her drink again as she shifts, drops of it hitting tara's face as she backs off. "and you should be glad your bitch of a sister finally decided to leave this house. she was nothing but trouble, and ruins everything she touches, so she might as well fuck up her own life somewhere else."

"fuck up her own life? she's the one fucking things up, mom?" tara scoffs, throwing her arms up as she points at the mess of a house they're living in. "this is your fault. you're the one who didn't handle dad leaving and decided to make it our problem. if she's trouble, she's your doing, you're the one who ruins everyth-"

tara is cut short by her mother slapping her face.

"you. don't know what you're saying." the same hand that slapped tara is now poking her chest, her body leaning over hers in drunkenness. "and you're a stupid cunt, just like her."

tara is stuck in place, shoulders shaking as she cries and breathing cut short by her sobs.

"now get the fuck out of my sight. and don't you ever talk to me like that again, tara."

[fromforeigntofamiliarity]

Cold Hands | Luca Changretta | Part Three

Opening the oven door a clouds of smoke billowed out and into the apartment, grabbing a rag from the counter Y/N began waving the cloth in an attempt to clear the air. 

"Oh god," Y/N coughed. "Okay no big deal. I can fix this." She said using the rag to remove the pan from the oven before turning it over into the trashcan.

Y/N set the tray on the counter silently thanking god that she had bought extra bread from the store. Quickly going to retrieve a clean tray she placed the remaining tree circle bread loafs on and slid them into the oven.

Closing the oven she made a mental note not to let herself get distracted again. walking over to her dining room table she took the time to take a breath. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous for Luca coming over. 

Which would be the main reason why she now had burnt bread sitting in her trash. 

lost in her thought she didn't notice the young man climbing down the fire escape and over to her window, pulling up in the window he was surprised(and a bit disappointed) to find it open.

"Woah where's the fire?" He asked stepping through the window and into smoky apartment. 

Letting out a scream Y/N leaps from her seat, spinning to face the unknown man in her home. Once her eyes come into contact with the intruder she lets out a sigh of relief.

Holding his hands up in surrender he pauses in his steps. "Hey hey I'm not gonna  h-."

"No no I was just surprised." She interrupts with her hand over her heart. "What are you doing here?" She stared at him in confusion as he looks around her apartment.

"Well I was upstairs and I smelt smoke so I came to check and make sure the building wasn't on fire." He explained. "What happened?" 

"Oh I just brunt the bread." She said gesturing to the trash can. "But everything is fine."

Standing there the two didn't say anything to each other as they looked around in silence, Y/N noticed how the young man kept glancing over to her kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" 

[<_>]

Walking out of the elevator, pausing to straighten his tie one last time. Walking up to the door of Y/N's apartment.

Raising his hand to knock, Luca stops as he hears voices coming from inside. She was laughing at whatever the other person had said.

Giving the door three firm knocks Luca waited only a moment before the door was open.

"Luca." Y/N greeted with a bright smile. "I'm glad you could make it, Come in." She said moving out of the way and opening the door wider. Once the door was opened Luca could see the young man sitting at the table, head down in a plate of food. 

With a sigh Luca removes his hat. "Enzo, what are you doing here?" Luca asked his nephew trying to hide his amusement, while closing the door. 

"Uncle Luca, You should have seen it, this place was full of smoke." He said as he continued to stuff his mouth full of food. "I smelt it from upstairs so I came down to check on my zia."  

"It wasn't that bad." Y/N attempted to defend herself. 

"I though that place was on fucking fire." He retorted. 

"guarda la tua bocca." Luca spoke sending a small glare to the boy. [Watch your mouth.]

"colpa mia, but seriously, I'm surprised the fire department isn't here." Enzo continued taking a sip of the soda Y/n had given him to have with his meal. [my bad.]

"Alright well since there isn't a fire," Luca said gesturing around to the apartment. "I do thank you for your concern but you may go now." 

Looking up with an offended look on his face Enzo looked between the two adults before settling on Y/N. "Zia?" He asked looking wide eyes at her.

"Goodbye Enzo." Y/N said apologetically with a small smile. Letting out a huff Enzo stood from the table and walked over to the two, standing my the door. As he got closer Luca opened the door expecting him to exit into the hall, only for him to walk towards Y/N, bending down placing a quick kiss on her cheek before walking back to the table picking up his plate as well as his drink. Walking across the living room Enzo steps through the window and back into the fire escape making his way back up to his apartment.

Luca let out a laugh in disbelief before letting the door swing closed once again. Looking over to Y/N he sees her shaking her head at the window.

"Shall we eat?" She asked gesturing over to the now vacant table.

"Yes, please." He replied heading over to the table as Y/N headed to the kitchen.

"It really wasn't that bad." She defended once again. 

"I believe you toreso." Luca smiled watching as she moves about the room. 

"Good." She smiled coming over and placing the plate in front of him.

[cherrythepuppet]

Advice And Broom Whacking

Marnie belongs to @trashcanplant, Probably didn't write her well as this was my first time writing for Marnie!

Marnie was chatting with Howdy as she was paying for her groceries when she suddenly felt a pair of eyes staring into the back of her headMarnie looked around and briefly saw two green eyes in a trashcan outside

"Uhm- Howdy?" Marnie said before the green eyes disappeared "Hm? What is it?" Howdy asked "I think theirs... Something... In your trash outside" Marnie told him causing him to sigh

Howdy grabbed the broom "Stay here, This'll be quick" Howdy grumbled then he walked outside and whacked the trashcan with a broom

The trashcan was knocked over and a raccon came tumbling out rubbing her head "HOWDY!" They yelled "Go on! Shoo! Get outta here Riley!" Howdy demanded

Riley didn't do anything except look back at Marnie but then she got hit by the broom which did cause her to scurry away

"What the..." Marnie blinked as Howdy came back into the store "Howdy- wha... What or who was that?" Marnie asked"Oh? It's just Riley" Howdy replied "Why'd you hit her with a broom?" Marnie asked

"She's gotta a bad habit of going through my trash" Howdy chuckled nervously Marnie stared at him with a 'Genuinely what the fuck' look making Howdy shrug

"Look I don't know why the gal sticks around but she does!" He exclaimed The two continued to engage in conversation before Marnie left with her groceries and while walking home she noticed her trashcan move

Marnie stared at it "Get out" She said and out pops Riley Raccoon

"YOU!" Riley shouted "Me?" Marnie asked "YOU!" Riley confirmed "How did you do it?" Riley asked "Uh- Do what?" Marnie tilted her head

"Your the bug lady! The pillars like you and I wanna know how you do it" Riley explained "Oh... Well- I don't really know?" Marnie looked away

"I SWEAR TO-" Riley paused "Do you want some help with those?" Riley asked poitning to the groceries Marnie was carrying

"Oh no you don't have-" Marnie was cut off by Riley grabbing some of the bags allowing Marnie to open her front door

Marnie set the Groceries inside by the door then took the rest to the Bags from Riley

"Thank you" Marnie smiled "Your... Your welcome" Riley mumbled Marnie looked away for a second and when she looked back Riley was gone.....

[hana-akari]

Starter for @abyssaldespair

It’s been a few weeks since her last victim. Sakura had been trying to space them out as to make it harder to track her. But she had clients waiting on organs, and she was always one to keep customers happy. So that meant, someone else had to die that night.

The recent disappearances, paired with bodies being found void of organs had caused the whole city to be tense with fear. Anyone could be a target. There wasn’t any specific type of person Sakura targeted. Besides sometimes, she would target people that had gotten on her nerves that day, or wronged her in some manner. Killing went from being just another job to an enjoyable hobby she used to get back at the world that wronged her. If anything, they all should be thanking her for taking out the trash. Putting them for better use as a bag of organs. Organs that could go to the sick, and those who really needed them.

Sakura was good at twisting things in her mind to make it sound like what she was doing was actually a good thing. But deep down, she knew she was just sick.

An alert went off of her security, her eyes moving over to the screen to see someone stumbling around in the outside of her base. Sakura wasn’t stupid enough to do her business from her home, so instead, she did her work in an old warehouse no one used anymore. No one came this far out of the city because of crime rates. Something Sakura took advantage of. With the way this man was stumbling about, Sakura was assuming he was on some sort of drugs. Would explain why he was way out here. Probably too high to consider the dangers of being all the way out here.

Well she was looking for a new victim…

He was as good as any. She was sure no one would miss him. 

Getting up from her desk, she grabbed a simple bat. Well not entirely simple. Blades and nails stuck out of it, and there was already dried blood on it meaning she’s already used it before. Sneaking out of the front of the building, Sakura quietly crept up on the man from behind. Just as she got close enough, she swung the bat, cracking him in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground. Before he had a chance to get up, or cause a fuse, Sakura began beating him over the head over and over with the bat. Crushing his skull, flinging chunks of brain matter around along with blood. After he was no longer moving, Sakura took notice at how odd the color of his blood was. She has never seen blood this dark before, and fuck did this guy smell. He smelled like he'd already been rotting before she killed him. And now his nasty, stinky blood was all over her.

Great.

She needed a shower.

But first, she needed to get his ass inside and onto her surgical table. Sakura just grabbed him by the legs and dragged him. Cursing a bit at how heavy he was, calling him a fat ass. She thought drugs made people thinner??? 

It took a bit longer to get him inside than she expected, but managed. Just flopping his gross ass onto the table, and strapping down his arms and legs just to secure him. Sakura walked away for a brief moment to clean up the mess outside. Just so no one sees it and starts poking around. Can never be too careful. She just dumped the chunks of brain and skull into a trashcan. No use to her.

Sakura washed up her hands and pulled on some gloves and a face mask. Hoping the mask would dampen the smell a little bit. She flipped on the radio in passing for some background noise,

“Okay, Stinky, let's see if you have any worthwhile organs.”

The pink haired woman pulled over the tray of tools, along with a tray to put the organs temporarily. She cut him open autopsy style, then used some pliers to crack open his ribs so she could have a full view of his insides. His blood was still a sickly dark color. In which she’s never seen. She hoped that didn’t mean all the organs were trash. 

Starting with his heart, Sakura hummed to the music as she carefully cut it out of him, then dropped it on the tray. Next she started working on his lungs. She was so hyper focused on the task of plucking the organs out of him, that she didn’t notice how his head was healing…

[wilburconspiracies]

Ruby's great and all, but she's a student just like you. Neither of you should have to be dealing with this bullshit.

But you better fucking not start feeling guilty about it, Ruby chose to get involved despite being aware of the risks, respect that.

3 guns isn't going to do much if she has neighbors who will just overlook any weird shit happening at night. Meanwhile in my neighborhood people call the cops even just for a trashcan being knocked over at 10pm.

- Beth

Mmm tired, don't..can't..