#you know that inevitable feeling of “I’m going to cry over this” yeah. that feeling. it’s gonna happen but it will happen even worse if

[starkeyisthelastname]

How would reader react when pornstar!rafe comes over to her place after filming a scene with someone else ?

just know pornstar!rafe is a pussy destroyer 😰

It was the text you got, reading ‘Can’t, I’m busy.’ Followed by, ‘Filming a scene today.’ That left you feeling some type of way and you weren’t sure why. Okay, maybe you knew exactly why and that was the more dick he gave you, the more you wanted him. You were both pornstars though, and his job was to fuck women on camera and get paid for it. You couldn’t be jealous. It was inevitable that he would have to film.

As the day went on, you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. Some other female pornstar was getting her guts fucked out by him right now, and you weren’t the one getting to experience it. This man had a chokehold on you and you were becoming addicted to the way he made you feel. He was raw, confident, dirty, and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else said or thought.

You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep as you were startled out of a dream by a pounding on your door. You rubbed your eyes, making your way down the hall and towards the front. You should have looked through the peephole, hell it could have been someone trying to break in, but you opened it anyway against your better judgement. It was Rafe’s massive self storming in that had you fully waking up to realize what was going on.

“Can’t answer a fuckin phone?” He asked, blue eyes peering at you almost predatory as he stalked closer.

“I fell asleep, and why do you even care? You were busy.” You said, evident jealousy dripping from your tongue. You crossed your arms, a challenging sparkle in your pretty eyes as he stared at you for moment. He chuckled, his intimidating height towering over you as he stepped closer.

“Why are you acting jealous for, huh? Gettin too damn attached to this dick, aren’t ya?” He spoke low, large hand coming up to grab your throat. His mustache tickled your lips as he leaned down to look in your eyes. “I like money too much to stop fuckin, pretty girl. You remember what, I said though?” He asked, squeezing your neck harder.

Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back as you were a freak off pain. He pulled away from your face, his lips ghosting over toward your ear as he began to speak. “You are my own personal whore now, yeah? So when I call, you answer the fuckin phone the first time.” He spat harshly in your ear.

You weren’t sure what this weird fucked up situation was that you two were in, but you knew you loved every second of it. He was fucking your life all the way up, his hands digging into your scalp to use your hair as reins as he brutally pounded into your sopping hole.

“Take that shit up your fuckin cunt.” Rafe grunted, toned hips moving at a rapid pace as his thick cock stretched your poor hole out. Your legs were bent back, knees touching your chest as he railed you into oblivion on your own couch.

You were crying from the sheer roughness and pleasure that he was giving to you. A babbling mess, as you fell victim to his nasty ways once again. You were getting too attached to his dick, but what did he expect when he fucked you the way he did. You were soaking his cock, his fat length sliding in and out your messy cunt as he drilled into you.

His body leaned down, his hand yanking your head back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. “This is my fuckin pussy to ruin. You understand that?” He asked, his stache tickling your lips as he tightened the grip on your hair. “You better fuckin answer me when I’m talking to you.”

You let out a gasp, wincing at the burn to your scalp as you were forced to look into darkened blue irises and answer him. “Yes Rafe… a-all yours!” You cried out, earning a vicious laugh from him as he straightened his massive stance back out. He was just as addicted to you and knew you were about to fuck his life all the way up. Just in a completely different kinda way he hadn’t experienced before.

[rubiehart]

if you’re taking requests rn, can you write a blurb of jj x gf!reader after their first time. but hes just so emotional and mushy bc it was his first time having real intimate sex and he just feels so good abt it

you’re both laying in bed, sheets ruffled and limbs tangled, both of your bodies still warm, smushed together in a comfortable silence since he’d rolled off of you after giving you the best orgasm of your life.

your face is tucked into his neck, his arms wrapped protectively around you, chin rested on top of your head as you breath in heavily, basking in the feeling of being together at last.

a sniffle breaks the silence and you blink slowly, opening your eyes to look up at your boyfriend, his eyes are glassy and sad, you immediately reach a hand up to cradle his face, furrowing your eyebrows together and speaking quietly to him.

“why’re you crying?” you ask and he chuckles dryly, reaching up to swat away the tears that threatened to fall. “i dunno- just-“

he sniffles again, and you nod urging him to go on, your attentiveness making his heart melt further. “i just- damn- i just love you so much n’-“ he struggles for words as you frown.

“jesus- i’m cryin’ like a fuckin’ baby cause i just love you so fuckin’ much.” you feel your walls crumble then and you let a tear slip, laughing as you push his hair back from his forehead as his eyes flicker all over your face but inevitably land on your lips. “yeah?” you ask, a little wobbly and he smiles.

“yeah. so fuckin’ much- like you don’t even know.” and you smile. “i love you more jj, for so long. i love you so much i don’t even know how to say it.” you admit, tears falling and and he swipes them away, hanging onto your every word as you both see eachother’s vulnerability in this situation, two idiots in love.

“god damn- gonna marry you- i swear i will.” he promises, chuckling, cupping your face and giving you the sloppiest kiss ever, you receive it eagerly, kissing him back desperately. “you better after this.” you laugh, and he does too, a genuine one that makes your heart leap, you loved this boy so much and you were never getting over it.

“jesus-“ he mutters, attempting to wipe another fallen tear, failing as you crash your lips against his again, a new found passion and desire within you, you were never getting over this boy.

[lovebugism]

I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:

*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."

if it inspires you, please!

emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡

@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)

Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes. 

He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience. 

But then again, no one does. Not even him.

“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.

You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”

“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.

“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”

The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.

But when I see you hanging about with anyone—

It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!

Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.

You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.

“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”

“Can you get me—”

“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.

You squint. “How’d you know?”

‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.

“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”

Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.

“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd. 

You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.

A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.

You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.

“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”

“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”

Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.

“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”

His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.

“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.

Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.

Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.

You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”

Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.

“Better?” you grin.

He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.

“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.

“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”

You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”

Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.

Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”

“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.

“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”

And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.

Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”

[stxrslut]

these past days have driven you crazy. the thought of the games being only tomorrow makes it impossible to sleep. you need something, some sort of thrill, something erotic even, to make you forget. you know exactly who to go to for that.

content : hunger games au. reader has lots of complicated feelings. intense sex. knife play. blood. degradation. rafe talks about killing reader. minimal aftercare.

when he opens the door he’s wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. you wouldn’t expect anything more, it’s 11pm at night and you hadn’t let him know you were coming.

“what happened?” he frowns, letting you in. you walk right up to him, getting in his space, though he doesn’t seem to mind too much.

“remember what you said about distractions…” you ask, looking up at him and placing a hand on his bare chest, “and remember… remember how you offered to show me.. that you could help me be distracted?”

he looks down at you, lips parted in genuine surprise, “yeah. yeah I remember.. you uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “you want that?”

you nod, “yeah…” you speak quietly, slowing standing up on your toes to reach near his lips, “I want that.”

he leans down to meet you, beginning a heated kiss that leads you over to his bed. he pulls on the straps of your nightdress to remove it, letting you fall back once it’s off.

“shit… gonna make you all mine..”

two rounds later, you’re not satisfied. all you’ve been doing is whining for more, something even more.

you want something thrilling, something scary and erotic all at the same time. you’re not getting it, and it’s most definitely not distracting you.

“no— need somethin’ else.. need more,” you whine, pushing rafe away and rolling over grumpily. you know it’s rude. to turn up in his room asking for sex only to not accept what he can give you.

you hear him get off the bed, you’re expecting him to kick you out any second now. you hear a rummaging through some drawers and then he’s walking back towards you.

you’re about to sit up to leave when you feel the sudden cold of a blade on your skin. you shiver, looking down to see a sharp, inevitably murderous knife pressed to your collarbone.

“you wanna fuckin’ whine?” his tone is mean now. he flips you over so that he’s standing over you, blade now on your neck.

you moan involuntarily, this is what you’d wanted. this is the thrill you’d been seeking. the games are all that is on your mind, but now in a good way, a sick and twisted way, but good nonetheless.

he chuckles, “shit.” a smirk is plastered on his face now as he looms the weapon over you, “this is what you wanted? this is the more you’ve been cryin’ for?”

you nod frantically, arching your back with a loud moan, “yes— yes this is what I wanted— want— want—”

“what? want me to stab you? want me to kill you?” he breathes out as he begins to lign himself up you you once again, “or you just want me to fuck you like I’m gonna?”

“mmh— please— please,” you moan, letting out a little shocked yet still pleasured whimper when the knife nicks the skin on your upper chest, undoubtedly drawing blood.

he begins to move, fucking your already sensitive hole with a new force, a new venom. driven by, you’re sure, exactly the same feelings you’re having.

“you’re sick,” he seethes, not slowing his turning or relaxing his grip on the knife as he speaks, “this shit turns you on? fuckin’ sick.” he chuckles breathily when all you do in response is moan once more, “don’t even care do you? just another fuckin’ desperate slut. thought you were innocent y’know… thought I was gonna have to show you how to do this.”

“mmh— m’gonna.. rafe… I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as an orgasm crashes down onto you. a white hot pleasure in your core as you writhe around.

the knife remains held to your neck as rafe spills a hot load into you. his hand shakes, pushing it closer, and inciting even more fear into you.

not even five minutes later he’s dressed again, standing over you. he runs the tip of the blade over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“you gotta go now.” he murmurs, voice deep and almost intimidating, “don’t want to make it harder to kill you tomorrow.. I still got a game to win.”

walking down the hallway with your legs shaking, you think. you think that might be the most horrible thing you’ve ever done, and also the most erotic. you also think, that it was exactly what you needed.

[literaila]

fighting

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi gets in trouble at school

warnings: they are a family (and hate each other)

last part | next part

*

year three.

your mouth is a straight line, and you know both of them are staring at you. 

you're all sitting in the car, three hours before megumi's supposed to get out of school, and it's been quiet for the last ten minutes. 

you don't have anything to say, you think. nothing that will make sense of the mess in your head. 

and satoru's eyes are glaring into your head, burning your skin. you want to shove him and tell him to leave you alone--even though he's not doing anything--but that seems hypocritical. 

especially considering that megumi is suspended for the rest of the week. 

“okay,” satoru says, after his eyes have basically glazed over from focusing on you for too long. “megumi, can you say something? i think her head's about to explode.” 

“i'm fine,” you hiss. and then you glance at megumi in the rearview mirror and feel a little bad. 

he looks smaller than usual. his eyes are shifting from you to satoru, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn't sure what. and, of course, he's scrunched himself up, almost a ball right behind you. 

you don't want to be frustrated with him, but it seems inevitable. he's just a kid, you try to think, but it doesn't work. when you were a kid you didn't-- 

so yeah, you feel bad for him. not that bad though. you know he knows what you’re going to say. 

megumi sighs (but it sounds more reminiscent of one of satoru’s many whines). “i’m… sorry.” 

he might as well be telling you that he cut out your heart, and blew up a church with how dreary his voice is. 

satoru grins. “there. we’re cool now.” he reaches back and ruffles megumi’s hair. his arms are too long for anything in the world. he's basically an arachnoid. “y/n…” he hums. “you can stop frowning now. he apologized.” 

you glance over at him, unimpressed. satoru will brush this away like everything else. 

even though you know he cares--and doesn't want you to be mad, or megumi to feel guilty. 

his stupid smile almost makes you break, but you look away. 

“sorry for what megumi?” you ask, softly, trying to ignore your stupid roommate. he’s been downgraded. 

“…hitting those kids.” 

“are you actually sorry?” you clarify, even though you know the answer. 

he’s silent. 

you can see out of your peripheral when satoru gives him a nasty look. mouthing something to him. 

at least you know where megumi gets this from. his protectiveness is not unique to you, but at least satoru does it jokingly. at least he only destroys the already destroyed. 

maybe you're thinking too hard about this. 

you sigh, this time, rubbing your eyes with one hand. “look, megumi, we can talk about it later.” 

you could use a break from both of them. a couple of minutes to yourself to... probably cry in your bed and wonder why the world is so terrible. 

“um, no we can’t.” satoru says. “i’m going to be gone later. i told you about my—“ 

you pinch his thigh over the gearshift. “we’ll talk without you.” 

he gasps. “excuse you,” he says, “but i am a part of this conversation.” 

“yes, i think you’ve done plenty to contribute to this, gojo.” 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

you try to smile at him, but it feels more like a grimace. “just that you’re the one sparing with megumi on the weekends.” 

satoru frowns. “we’re practicing. you want him to be as weak as every other shikigami user in the world?” he asks, rhetorically. 

“i like sparring,” megumi interjects, like it matters. 

“maybe a little too much,” you say, under your breath. 

satoru grabs your hand from his leg, intertwining his fingers with yours. it would be sweet--a nice connection--if you weren't actively trying to hurt him. 

maybe megumi gets it from both of you. 

“okay, megumi,” satoru sings. “you can’t hit your classmates, okay? look i fixed it.” 

you glare at him. then turn into your driveway. 

satoru groans. “why are you both so difficult? megumi, just apologize, and y/n, he made a mistake. he’s not gonna do it again.” 

“i’m not talking about this right now,” you tell him, shaking your hand from his, wanting not to be mad at either of them.

but you’re mad at both. they both suck and you love them too much to even yell. 

“i’m difficult?” megumi retorts. 

satoru groans again and you all get out of the car. 

“go get started on your homework,” you tell megumi, after you unlock the door. “we can talk in a bit.” 

your voice is naturally softer with him. megumi’s too cute to stay angry at. 

satoru doesn’t have that issue. 

megumi looks back at you, his eyes inquisitive, his mouth pinched. “you’re mad at me?” 

you sigh, hanging the keys on the hook. “no, megs. it’s fine. we just need to talk about it. later. 

“you’re mad,” he repeats, all-knowing. seriously, who allowed satoru to raise him? 

“i… maybe a little. not really at you. just the situation.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

you shake your head, hand on your back as you gently nudge him down the hall. “just go hang out for a bit. relax.”

you try not to notice how he rubs his fists, tiny bruises forming on his tiny knuckles.

satoru walks in behind you, bumping into you purposefully. “start writing your opening statement,” he adds, grinning at you both. 

you push him away and megumi rolls his eyes. 

you walk into the kitchen, thinking about moving megumi to a new school—a new family. they’ll probably do better than you’re doing. at least there he won't have one parent who actively eggs him into violence every day. 

you know satoru is following you (because when isn’t he?) but you don’t expect a hand tapping on your arm, and wary blue eyes meeting yours. 

dark blue eyes. 

“can we talk now?” megumi asks, his voice softer than usual. you can tell he feels bad, but you know that it’s only because you’re upset. 

and it’s not even him. you just wish that he had a better response to these things. that he didn’t feel like fixing everything was his responsibility.

you’re not sure where you went wrong, but you know that it was somewhere. 

“megumi… i just need to think for a bit. i’m really not mad.” this time you actually smile at him, because even if he’s beating kids up in school, he’s so sweet to all of you. so cautious.

(except for satoru, but he deserves it). 

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to get in trouble.” 

satoru snorts from behind you. he’s leaning against the wall, watching. 

lord knows he wouldn’t be any help—even if he actually was contributing to the conversation. 

you swallow, because you really don't want to tell megumi anything. not without running it through satoru first, at least. without considering the consequences. 

but he looks very worried, and you don't want to leave him to obsess over this by himself. 

“i just don’t understand why…” you shake your head. you’re not going to make any sense of a nine-year-old mind. “you can’t hit people because you’re upset. you know that.” 

“they were messing with a girl in class,” he says, frowning. then he looks to satoru, his head tilted. “i thought that’s what you told me? i’m stronger, i can help.”

“uh….” satoru scratches the back of his neck, wincing. he's lucky that he's several feet away from you. 

you turn. “what?” 

“i—“ he holds his hands up in defense immediately. “i may or may not have mentioned that we, as in all of us, we’re meant to be upstanders, you know. not—“ he clears his throat. clasps his hands together. “bystanders.” 

“satoru.” you groan, leaning against the counter. at least it's all coming together. 

you need to bug him or something, just to monitor everything he says 

satoru continues. “but i meant in public! with curses. not—not children,” he glares at megumi. 

probably for ratting him out. 

“but you said that if someone was in trouble—“ 

“can you stop talking?” satoru says to him, shaking his head, lips pouting pathetically. “i didn’t raise a snitch.” 

you furrow your brows and megumi crosses his arms. 

“satoru, you told him to fight people?” 

he winces again, adjusting his glasses. “i meant… bad people.” 

“they were bad,” megumi reassures you both because it obviously matters. “they tried to steal her backpack. that’s bad.” 

you sigh, shaking your head. 

you can't believe that you're still standing here, still contemplating what to say to him. 

where did it all go wrong? 

“was the backpack cool?” satoru wonders, going to stand right next to you, hand slinging around your shoulder. he ignores it when you try to push him off. 

he's probably just trying to be annoying. 

megumi frowns. “i don’t know, i didn’t ask her to—“ 

“stop talking, both of you.” 

you ponder running away from all of them and starting a new life. rome is supposed to be nice this time of year, and you’ve been saving up… 

but you’d feel bad for leaving tsumiki with the two of them. plus, satoru doesn’t know how to fill out his tax return. 

“we’re talking,” satoru says, raising a brow at you. “you like that.” he grins at you like he’s solved world hunger or something. 

with his stupid face and stupid mouth. you would move to rome just so you never had to look at him again and feel briefly distracted. 

“i need a minute to think.” 

the two boys share a look. how you’ve survived three years with them is questionable. 

finally, you sigh again, rubbing your temple. “megumi, you know you can’t hit people. why didn’t you get a teacher? violence is never an option.” 

satoru frowns. “what about—“ 

“in the real world,” you correct, glaring at him. “violence is not an option. don’t put your hands on other people. talk to someone.”

megumi kicks his foot against the hardwood. “i didn’t think they’d listen.” 

you nudge his chin, getting him to look at you. “then you tell one of us. preferably not satoru. i know—i understand that you want to help, but hurting someone just to protect someone else isn’t any better than bullying, okay?” 

“yeah, don’t bully your bullies," satoru waves a finger at him. 

you roll your eyes, and megumi looks disheartened—annoyed maybe—but nods eventually. 

not that you expect him to agree immediately anyway. megumi has never been fond of talking. even with all of you, he'd rather hug you than ask how your day is. 

and it's fine, usually. you don't want to push him. 

you also don't want to have to bail him out of jail. 

“okay. good. if this ever happens again i'm homeschooling you.” 

megumi doesn’t seem to mind this, shrugging at the threat.

you pause, then say, “actually, satoru is homeschooling you.” 

the boy frowns. 

satoru nudges your side, giving you a skeptical look. “no punishment? he’s just free to go? last time i tried to—“ 

“you were trying to put megumi in a headlock.” 

“he was eating the last mochi! he knew i was saving it.” 

you scowl at him. “it’s not even his fault,” you say, looking pointedly at him. then you brighten. “and he has to deal with you every day, that’s punishment enough.” 

satoru opens his mouth, holding a hand in the air. then he closes it. 

you turn around to see megumi smirking at him. 

you roll your eyes. “what do you want to tell tsumiki?”

you'll have to pick her up in an hour or two, and she's going to ask questions. plus, megumi's scratched-up hands are not very discreet. 

megumi’s face falls. “um—“ 

satoru starts laughing beside you, body shaking against yours, and you feel like there’s about to be another fight. 

but at least you’re not upset anymore. 

megumi says something to satoru--like shut up--but you're not really listening anymore. just looking between the two like they aren't the most important, special things in the world to you. 

whatever happens, you think, is satoru's fault. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[demonmarker]

Beautiful with you

Regina x Reader (Masc. Lesbian)

Chapter 1

Regina George. The Queen B of North Shore High, known for her dominance and the fact that anything she does is always for her self-gain, and you have absolutely nothing to do with her. Never had, never will, so you thought.

Like any other day you sat by yourself in the cafeteria at lunch, drawing in your sketchbook like you always did with your Doc Martin feet kicked up on the table, earbuds in with Bad Omens playing in your ear as you work on your latest idea for a new tattoo on the back of your neck when at the corner of your eye you see movement and… pink? You glance in the direction of the movement and see none other than THE Regina George clicking her fingers at you to get your attention. You had a small hallway crush on Regina. But who doesn't? You even have a realism drawing of her in your sketchbook, but you didn’t bother drooling over her or even bother trying to talk to her. You tried doing the whole friends thing when you were a kid and you were always left crying and humiliated, so it was a loner life for you and your sketchbook was the only friend you needed. Curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled out one of your ear buds showing she got your attention, “Regina” your voice low and husky since you never really talked much at school. “Oh my god finally,” your eyes narrow, not impressed by her opening line. “Come sit with us”, waving a beaconing hand. You lift one of your eyebrows up in suspicion, “Me? The tattooed lesbian loner freak? Sitting at the Plastics table? With the most popular and beautiful girls in the whole school? Yeah, I can see a red flag when I see it so… I’m going to pass.” Regina stuck her chest out proudly with a matching smile, “You think I’m beautiful?” You rolled your eyes and put your earbud back in your ear signalling that that was the end of their conversation. At the corner of your eye you see Regina get out of her seat and walk off, guessing you did the trick, no way was she really wanting to hang with you, like every other time it would probably have ended in a cruel prank that everyone but you found hilarious. Without warning your sketchbook was ripped out of your hands by the familiar blond using your book to swat your feet off the table, sitting where they once were. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Regina just held up her hand to silence you, and it. Fucking. Worked. The abruptness took you off guard. Queen B started flipping through your drawings, your cheeks going red knowing that the drawing you did of her is in there. “Hey, that’s private!” you tried snatching your art diary back but she was quicker, moving it out of your reach. “I don’t know why, these are surprisingly good. I was expecting stick figures at best, look you even coloured inside the lines.” Ignoring the insult your leg starts anxiously bobbing up and down rapidly from the anticipation of her discovering the drawing of herself, in that moment you’d rather defuse a bomb. Flicking another page Regina stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. The feeling of being so helpless to stop the inevitable made your anger rise, flashbacks of people laughing and humiliating you start running through your head. It wasn’t fair! This keeps happening again and again. Your anger gets the better of you and you abruptly get up from the table and storm off.

Getting to your locker, you attempt to enter the code into the lock but of course in you fit of rage you missed a number and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as you smash your fist into the metal door “Fuck!”, removing your bloody fist from the now red dent in the locker door, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming on. “My god, you are such a drama queen!” the familiar voice of the cause of your anger exclaimed from behind. Your head snaps to see the blond beauty again, her eyes go to the bloody fist print you dented into your locker “Got it all out?” her eyebrows raised, seeing the blood, her eyes darted to your bloody knuckles hanging by your side. She gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed you by the sleeve of your dark red leather jacket, “Come with me”, not like you had an option.

Pulling you out to the car park and to her red jeep she opened the passenger door and then the glove box grabbing a small first aid kit out, she held her hand out for your injured one and all you could do was watch in stunned silence as this woman–who everyone saw as the Queen Bitch herself–delicately cleaned and bandaged your injury. She glanced up at your confused expression “Stop looking at me like that you dork.” Being called out made your cheeks go red, instantly reacting you let out a “Sorry” like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Wait, why am I apologizing? You started this, give me back my sketchbook!” tying the bandage’s knot she raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to chuck a hissy fit and punch your locker now did I dummy? Say please and I’ll give you the sketchbook,” she grinned. Your eyebrows scrunched “No!” you snapped back. Lifting an eyebrow with a mischievous grin, she took a step closer to you while pulling your face down to hers, your faces barely inches apart, “Say. Please.” Your cheeks went beat red, being so close to the beautiful goddess you could smell her perfume and feel her breath on your face, all making you want to give into her, the want to obey your submissive side was almost overwhelming, “P-please”. Her grin grew, her hand still holding your collar pulled you the rest of the way to her lips. Those lips. Those soft, plump, intoxicating lips. You completely lose yourself, never wanting the kiss to end. She wraps her arm around your neck, her hand gently caressing the back of your head under your tied up black hair where your undercut is shaved almost to the skin. When you let a moan escape your throat you feel her something flat being pushed against your chest which you instinctively grab blindly. Pulling back, Regina ended the kiss by pulling on your lower lip with her teeth which you automatically moaned to. She put her forehead against yours reaching up she wipes her lipstick from your lips, softly whispering to your lips “Good girl”.

When you come down from cloud nine you see her already walking back to the main school building, Fuck, what just happened? You look down to the object in your hands and find your sketchbook with one page dog eared. You turn to the marked page which was the drawing of Regina, a message written in the open space of the page “You're kinda hot, come to my place after school today. Meet me by my car.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, Regina George just kissed you! And she wants to meet up with you again! The rational side of your brain kicked in and made you question if this was all some sort of trick, telling you to keep your walls up, scenarios like this don’t happen to loners like you. It’s not like you could hang out after school anyway.

Trying to get through all the scattering people at the end of school was always a nightmare but you manage to make your way to Regina’s jeep, the blond standing against the bright red car in waiting. Seeing you approach she straightens up “Hey Loser, you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at the nickname. “I’m sorry I can’t today.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And why not?” “I-“ you start but you hesitate, you look off into the distance as you argue with yourself whether to tell her the truth and let her in, no one knows what really goes on in your life and you liked that way it kept everyone safe. Or should you just brush it off and leave it at that? You release a sigh, “Would you be up to letting me show you?” Regina narrowed her eyes wondering if she should trust you or not “You’re not going to take me to some creepy warehouse and murder me are you? The pretty blond always dies first and you got the whole broody, loner killer vibe going on” she gestured to your whole person. You roll your eyes “Do you want to or not?” Chucking her hands up in defeat “Argh fine”, she walked to the passenger side of her car as you got in the drivers. Once comfortable you get a confused look on your face as you look at the dash, Regina looking at you with her own look of confusion, “Remind me again which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator”

The look of disbelief she gave you was priceless, “You can’t be serious” You cackle from her reaction, “I’m joking” you continue to laugh as she slaps your arm, already feeling at ease around her. “Don’t worry I’ve got my full license, your baby is safe with me.” “She fucking better be” she mumbled.

Ch.02 Ch.03

[zweiginator]

wait could u expand on being patrick’s crazy ex gf 😔

patrick blocking you on absolutely everything because you had a messy breakup. you wouldn’t stop calling and texting him for days so he had to block you. didn’t even tell you; you only noticed when your texts stopped going through. but you know patrick’s routines. you know where he frequents and who he hangs out with. so it’s inevitable that you’ll see him. and you do. a month after the breakup, you’re at a halloween party in a skimpy little cat costume. it was an excuse to look hot and get drunk and maybe see patrick who you’re still madly in love with.

you do see him, talking to a group of girls in the corner. it makes you fucking seethe. patrick can feel your presence, and sure enough, there you are when he looks up. you’re in a tiny black dress and black cat ears, glittery eye makeup sparkling under the dim lights. and he can see your eyes are watery.

patrick is good at standing his ground. he’s stubborn and he doesn’t like to be perceived as weak so he hates that your wobbly lip is making his fucking heart hurt. his jaw ticks and he wants to look away but you’re staring at him and he sees a few guys clearly whispering about you as they ogle your body and it makes him crush his beer can and walk over to you.

“don’t cry.” he wipes your tears with his thumb. “i’m not worth crying about.”

you sniffle and stare up at him and he’s struggling not to stare at your body.

“but i miss you.” your voice trembles and it’s too loud. patrick drags you to a bathroom to talk.

“we can talk for a little bit and that’s all. i’m sorry for blocking you but we need to move on okay?”

you nod and nervously bite your bottom lip. “i miss you so much.” and your hand moves forward, fingers looping into patrick’s waistband.

“fuck. don’t do this.”

you shrug and pull away. “okay. i won’t. sorry.”

patrick folds and takes in your body, the tightness of your dress accentuating your tits, your waist, the curve of your ass. your hair frames your face and you smell like beer and vanilla.

“you don’t miss me?” you break the silence.

“come on. i need to go back.”

“i knew you didn’t care about me.” and there you go again with the sniffling and the glassy eyes.

patrick holds the back of your head and whispers into your ear. “this is why i broke up with you. you’re insane.” he pulls away. “im not fucking you.”

“then why are we in the bathroom?” you shrug. the strap of your dress falls and patrick notices you’re not wearing a bra.

he groans. “stop fucking doing this to me.“

“i’m not doing anything.”

he turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, his hand fisting in your hair. his knee spreads your legs apart and your dress rides up enough for him to see you're not wearing underwear either.

"you're a crazy fucking slut."

but the irony in him spitting that insult in your face is that you like it.

"fuck me, Patrick." you push your ass back into Patrick's cock and you realize he's rock hard. "I miss your dick so much."

"yeah?" he fumbles with his belt, his hand still yanking your hair back. "want me to fuck you like the stupid whore you are?"

you nod as he pulls his cock out, pushing his jeans down his legs. god you missed his body. the dark tufts of hair, the tan abs, the freckles that pepper from his nose to his chest.

"do whatever you want to me."

Patrick pushes your dress up around your waist and lines himself up with your cunt. "I don't need your fucking permission."

and then he pushes in. it's all at once and you realize he didn't put on a condom. it makes you flutter around him, feeling him raw inside you, pre cum pulsing inside your already spent pussy. his big hands hold your waist as he slams into you.

"hold onto the fucking counter." he moves your hands to the edge and your moans are choppy from the force of his thrusts. he's relentless, so much so that it hurts. but you're so happy he's inside you, claiming you like he's supposed to. grabbing your jaw and spitting into your mouth and calling you the worst fucking thing to ever happen to him.

you can tell he's about to cum because he's whimpering and his thrusts are sloppier so you clench around him.

"I love you so much." you hold onto his wrist and he groans. "cum inside me?"

he shakes his head, mouth hung open. "fuck you. fuckin' crazy I'm not doing that."

"want your cum. I know you wanna give it to me. I know you love me."

he's breathless now, thrusts growing more and more shallow as he mutters a "no."

"only thing I love about you--" he thrusts hard, slapping your ass. "is that you're easy fuckin' pussy."

but Patrick can't pretend like he didn't secretly miss you. miss this. and he really can't pretend when you say you love him one last time and he can't manage to pull out in time because the words make his balls draw up, cum spurting inside you just like you wanted.

"fuck--" he pulls out, slapping his softening dick against your ass. "you're on birth control, yeah?"

you look back at him, staring him in the eye. "yeah."

and you do have a prescription--but you haven't taken a pill in months.

[httpspedri26]

Bad Idea right? ~ PABLO GAVI

SMUT

Pablo gavi x reader

Send requests!

Y/n felt weird coming back to Barcelona, especially since she wasn’t here to see gavi anymore, but since she still had friends in Barcelona she decided to visit them.

This brought her to a club with her friends, finding herself seated at the bar, a tad dizzy, her phone discreetly buzzing in her purse.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed her eyebrows seeing the caller ID—Pablo., she threw her phone away as her friend Dani approached.

“Hey! You okay?” Dani asked, placing an order for another round.

Nodding and offering a forced smile, Y/n replied, “Yeah, I’ll join the other girls soon.”

As Dani left, Y/n’s phone buzzed again, this time with messages from Pablo:

Come over please.

I need you.

Returning to her friends, “Hey, I’m not feeling great. I’ll head out.” Y/n yelled over the loud music, her friends bombarded her with questions, displaying a mix of curiosity and concern, but Y/n’s mind was elsewhere. Ignoring their queries, she couldn’t shake off the notification revealing Pablo’s new address.

Pablo’s message lingered in her thoughts as she gulped, throwing her phone back into her purse.

“I’ll grab a taxi; don’t worry,” she reassured her friends before speed walking outside to the exit.

Y/n stood outside Gavi's front door, debating whether she should knock or not, knowing being here was a bad idea.

“Fuck it, it’s fine” she whispered to herself.

As y/n knocks on the door she can hear loud footsteps running towards the door, which reveals a messy hair gavi with a smirk on his face

“Hey”

✿

Y/n Moaned as she threw her head back “f- fuck Pablo, I missed you”

Y/N closed her eyes, Overwhelmed by Gavi’s kiss, the way he stretched her out, and the lingering sensitivity from the edging session, an unexpected yet inevitable orgasm crashed over her.

Bowing off the bed with a sharp cry, there was no time to recover as Gavi intensified, driving her into a cascade of orgasms. Gavi urged, “Scream for me, yeah?. Let it all out,” pressing his thumb against her needy, swollen clit. The climax repeated until exhaustion set in, and she collapsed against the bed, her body sore from relentless orgasms.

As she lay limp, Gavi slowed, groaning as he reached his own climax. “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispered, smoothing her hair back and sealing the moment with a lingering kiss. “You did so well.”

Gavi fell asleep on top of Y/N, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath. The room was filled with a hushed stillness, only broken by the soft sounds of their breathing.

As Y/N lay there, catching her breath, her phone started to vibrate with a message. Gently extracting herself from Gavi's embrace, she reached for her phone. The screen lit up, revealing a message from Dani.

"Hey Y/N, haven't heard from you in a while. Everything okay?"

Y/N's gaze shifted from the message to Gavi, still peacefully asleep. She hesitated, contemplating how to respond without waking him.

I just had a long night. Gonna catch some sleep now. We’ll catch up soon, promise.

She pressed send and gently placed the phone back on the nightstand.

Turning her attention back to Gavi before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Y/N stirred from her slumber as gentle kisses traced along her neck. Slowly opening her eyes, she was met with Gavi’s warm gaze and a tender smile.

“Buenos días, linda,” Gavi murmured, continuing to pepper her face with soft kisses. “ I really missed you y/n/n”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back. “Morning,” she replied, reaching up to brush back gavi’s hair.

Gavi paused, looking thoughtful. “I was planning to make breakfast for you, but my kitchen is empty. Do you want to go out and get breakfast? I still have some of your clothes in the closet you can wear”

Y/N grinned, liking the idea. “Sure, I’d love to” she replied giving him one last kiss before standing up.

After breakfast with gavi, he drove y/n to her hotel and as soon as she got to her room, her phone started ringing with a phone call from her friend Dani

“Y/n what the actual fuck, back with Gavi seriously?” Her friend screamed over the phone, y/n rolled her eyes as she chuckled

“Dani we’re not back together, we were just catching up, can’t two people reconnect? I only see him as a friend”

“You don’t even believe it yourself y/n”

[mangosrar]

call it what you want part 11

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

y’all 😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

“do you feel it yet?” he asked. his voice seemed so far away, even though he was lying on the grass next to you less than a foot away.

chris had kept his promise. he let you smoke. and it was just perfect. the sun was hot in the sky, not a single cloud in sight, the warm embrace of the breeze wafting through an empty field washing away every single thought you’d had since the last time you spoke to matt 2 weeks ago, and the buzz from the weed was delightful.

the space inbetween then and now had been torturous, you had to carry on this act with matt, while pretending you hated him, but every time you caught him looking at you, or he pulled you into him, kissing your temple when you were around people, made you want to break down and cry.

but this is just what had to happen, your parents were still furious with you, caden had barely spoken two words to you and jessica was still obsessing over matt. her matt. not yours. he was hers. or so you thought.

a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, while chris awaited your answer, you let out a breath before speaking.

“when does a monster become a monster?” you asked, your jaw felt heavy as you stared up at the sky.

“yeah your definitely feeling it” chris giggled, lifting his head slightly to look at you.

you couldn’t help but laugh too. “i’m serious”

“what do you mean by a monster?” he asked, finally settling back down, and looking at the side of your face.

“like elijah wasn’t mean at first, but it was inevitable, so when does a monster become a monster” you replies, still staring at the sky, blinking slowly.

chris sighed before looking away, and also aiming his eyes up, his hands picking at the grass besides him.

“i mean when is a monster not a monster, because at first, the monster will buy you flowers, and tell you your pretty, let you cry in his arms, and then one day you piss the monster off and he jumps out of the closet to scare you, and now you’re too afraid to sleep in the dark, so you keep a night light on, but it’s not enough, the monster still jumps out on you and you’re still scared” he said.

you were now staring at the side of his face, with your eyebrows pinched together. that was probably the deepest thing chris had ever said.

“maybe that’s why you pushed matt away,” he continued, turning his head to look at you. “because we both know you didn’t want to do that, but it’s just the way you’re wired. you want him in your house but you don’t want him to find your hiding spot, you want him to hold you but he can’t come to close” he breathed.

chris was right. this is what happened. matt got a little too close and your guards came up. every single wall that elijah had built in you rose to the surface, and shut matt out.

“you’re right” you whispered, turning your head away from chris, and back to the sky, before swallowing and resting your hands on your stomach. you suddenly felt vulnerable, like he had just peered into your head and plucked out your thoughts.

“i know i’m right. and i also know that matt is distraught. maybe you guys still have a long way to go, but didn’t you feel like you were getting somewhere?” he asked, still looking at the side of your face.

you swallowed thickly before speaking. “but matt and i won’t work, he wants jessica and i want elijah, he’s just ahead of himself right now” you argued, shaking your head.

“is he?” chris asked quietly, narrowing his eyes at you. you turned your head to look at him with a deep frown. you weren’t actually sure, and the thin line of trying to convince chris or trying to convince your self was becoming blurry.

“he is”.

“he’s not”

“yes he is chris”

“no he’s not y/n”

“he’s actually not sure”. his voice startled both of you. chris almost jumped out of his own skin and you shot up into a sitting position, snapping your head round to look at him.

“chris you told us you were gonna be taking y/n home 2 hours ago” matt said, looking at chris.

“we got a little carried away” he laughed, but your face was droning. you did not find this funny.

“i can see that” matt muttered, darting his eyes over to you briefly. “are you high?” he asked.

you dropped your eyes to the ground, not daring to look at him a second longer. he knew the answer, you didn’t even have to say anything. he just sighed.

“come on, i’ll drive you” his statement was directed towards you but, he was looking at chris. maybe he was too nervous, or maybe it was the fact that he was disappointed, you never smoked, and he knew it was because of him that you were doing it now.

matt made eye contact with you, but you couldn’t look at him. you were ashamed in a way, that this was how he had found you, high, and spewing nonsense.

“i can’t go home high” you whispered to chris. you were suddenly paranoid. and wether it was simply matts presence or the weed you weren’t sure.

“sleepoverrrr” chris giggled in a sing song voice, walking besides you with matt in-front, but you couldn’t even crack a smile. you were mortified that matt had possibly heard what you had said, and now you had to be forced into proximity with him, despite your undying efforts to stay as far away from his as you could for the past 2 weeks while keeping up the act. you had been burning the candle at both ends.

you could throw up. this feeling was horrible. the car felt like it was swaying side to side, and the sound of the music playing over chris and matts voice was pounding in your head.

you rested your head on the window of the car, and closed your eyes, trying to ground yourself. the cold glass was some what comforting.

“y/n you okay?” matt asked, and when you lifted your head and looked up, he was watching you through the centre mirror.

you swallowed and nodded. your mouth was filling with saliva, and your skin felt like it was on fire, and the thrum of the radio playing was making your head spin.

“you look a little pale y/n” chris giggled, turning to look at you from the passenger seat. his eyes were red and almost closed, and he was grinning from ear to ear, he was obviously having a great time, you couldn’t say the same.

you just let out a shakey breath and closed your eyes again.

-

it felt like hours had passed, and when you felt the car come to a stop, you realised you were on the drive way of the sturniolo house.

chris immediately jumped out of the car, sauntering off into the house.

“you sure you’re okay?” matt said quietly, not moving from his place in the drivers seat.

“yeah i’m fine, i just don’t feel too good, probably car sick or something” you muttered back, keeping your eyes trained down to your hands in your lap.

“yeah” matt whispered, but he did not believe you for one second. he knew you had over done it and you were about to green out.

once you made your move, exiting the car, matt did too. he followed you inside to be met with chris basically incoherent, slouched on the couch, and nick no where to be found.

all of a sudden, your mouth filled with saliva again, and your throat closed.

your feet moved fast, rushing you too the bathroom. you basically collapsed on the floor while emptying the contents of your stomach out into the toilet.

you felt a hand, pull your hair out of your face, and another rubbing slow circles on your back.

“chris i smoked way too much” you spoke, through a broken voice, coughing, with your head still hanging over the toilet.

“i know you did” that’s not chris.

as if you weren’t ashamed enough about the fact that Matt had seen you high, he was now looking at you while you were vomiting. brilliant.

you sat back against the wall, wiping your mouth with a tissue before throwing it away, and bringing your knees up to your chest.

“don’t make this a habit” matt said quietly, while standing over you and handing you a bottle of opened water, but his voice carried a warning tone.

“i won’t. thanks” you rasped, taking the bottle from his hands, not daring to look up at his face.

you sat in silence, slowly sipping the water, while matt stared down at you, waiting for you to throw up again.

“i’m fine now, i’m just gonna shower and head to bed” you said, finally standing up and looking at him.

“well chris is asleep on the couch so, his bed is fair game” matt replied, nudging his head towards the living room where chris was out cold.

“okay” you nodded, while waiting for matt to leave.

“you gonna be okay?” he asked, squinting his eyes at you.

“could you wait in here while i shower?” you asked. your mouth moved before your brain and it just came out. he obviously didn’t expect it either by the way his eyes widened so far they almost bulged out of his head.

“i- i mean- i ca- um,” he cleared his throat. “yeah sure, i’ll just uh” he said, pointing to that wall opposite the shower, and turning to face it, so he wouldn’t be looking at you.

you hummed in agreement, before stripping off and getting into the shower.

maybe it was the weed still in your system, but you had full confidence in him. you were putting all your trust in him to not turn around, and you believed he wouldn’t.

the water was hot on your skin, each drop washing away the horrible feeling of being too high. you sighed, letting your head tip back and your eyes close.

for a moment, you forgot matt was there, you did your normal shower routine, washing your hair, then your body then your face, all while matt was stood not even a metre away, with your trust in his hands.

you turned to look at him, bouncing on his heels with his hands together infront of him.

“are you nervous?” you quirked, giggling slightly.

“no y/n i’m not nervous, i just… i’m not nervous” he said, sighing.

“whatever you say baby” you cooed. keeping your eyes on his back as you pushed your hair out of your face.

he let out a breath and dropped his head. matt could’ve fell to his knees there and then. the fact you were standing behind him, completely naked, trusting him to stand there with you, had him rock hard.

but he was also confused, you hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, now you were calling him baby. he knew it was just the weed but he couldn’t help but have a small amount of hope bloom in his chest.

you felt a little bad, because you were just fucking with him, but the fact you could visibly see he was affected made you want to take it a little farther.

“could you pass me a towel matty?” you breathed. the words dripping like honey off of your tongue, and just like a moth to a flame, matt was drawn to it.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @ukyos @eyelessdemon00 @iheart2021chris-deactivated2024 @hearts4chris @leah-loves-lilies @whicked-hazlatwhore @1201pm-blog @yourmom-123456789 @mattnchrisworld @leoloveeeee @jazab3lla @martyniukpl @ilovemattstromboli @obsessedwithyou @breeloveschris @skyteller143 @innocentfsin @thatcrazybitch-69 @ihateeveryone357474 @shmophsturniolo @sturns-posts @mattsturnzzz09 @sturnisposts @jenna0rtegaswife @jeffbuckleylvr27 @sara2233445 @sturniolos4lifee @kasiaslayuje @cosmicmistake42069 @24kmar @ikeryn @sleepdeprivedandinsane @lvr444life @travelintheworld @aubreyswift13 @sturniololol @starziices @nickmillersn1gf @beautyb1ade @tommysaxes @sstvrnioloo

[mockerycrow]

I would like to request a call of duty fic where Simon is out one day in the rain and he sees the reader just sobbing because the thunder freaks them out and he takes them home and gives them some comfort.

Rumbling (Ghost x GN!Reader)

cod masterlist - ghost masterlist

A/N: this is more subtle comfort i guess?? I’m getting used to writing comfort again, please excuse this <3

[WARNINGS: Near panic attack, fluff.]

The storm that started up was not predicted on the weather forecast at all. The clouds that came rolling in were completely unexpected, and these clouds were dark. They covered the midday sky, nearly making it look like the sun was setting for the day. The rumbling was only reported 10 minutes before the storm came rolling in, and the wind picked up. Everyone could smell that it was going to rain, people were rolling up car windows and shutting windows inside of their homes and businesses; the few who came prepared opened their umbrellas and kept walking down the sidewalks and alleyways, and the few unlucky ones jogged down the streets to their destinations.

You, however, were part of an extremely unlucky number of people; those who got caught in the rain without any protection. It doesn’t help that you have a deep-rooted fear of thunderstorms, so as soon as you felt the drizzle, your heart began to pound inside of your chest. It feels like ropes suddenly leaped up from the ground and mended themselves to your wrists, your body feeling heavy and uncertain, jolting violently when there’s a bigger BOOM. You try your best to take shelter under a little roof outside of a business, but it’s barely enough to cover you, yet alone the entrance. It feels like your chest is caving in on itself, your ribs digging into your lungs and restricting your breathing, it feels like such a daunting task to get yourself home by this point. You whimper when a flash of lightning fills your vision and your hands are trembling when they cover your ears, waiting for the inevitable clap of thunder. You close your eyes tightly as your breathing becomes shallow and you instinctively try to curl up into a small ball, as if the thunderstorm is a predator, waiting for its prey to reveal its position to strike. You don’t know how much time has past, but you can feel your clothes sticking to your skin—and then there’s a pair of gloved hands grabbing your wrists. Your heart skips a beat from panic and you sob, trying to fight off whoever it is, but a familiar rough Mancunian accent fills your ears once your hands are away from your ears. “It’s jus’me, lovie. Gotta get you home, yeah?”

Ghost, your neighbor. You don’t know much about him, not even his real name—but you hang out whenever he’s available. You don’t have what his job is, but you have a guess that it’s in the military due to his inconsistent appearances, how he carrie’s himself, his anonymity. You can’t help but let out another sob as you try to focus on him, on his black mask that covers majority of his face and the way his hood of his hoodie obscures the rest of his face, but you can’t. “C’mon, m’leadin’ you to my car.” You’d let him lead you anywhere in this state, honestly. He shushes you softly at the way you jump out of your skin from another strike of lightning, and he tries to soothe you when you cry out in fear from the loud noises. You barely hear the passenger seat open, but you do feel the way he helps you into his car. Ghost closes the car door and quickly hops into the driver’s seat, and once the car doors are closed, the noise of the rain is dulled, giving you a moment to take a shaky breath and wipe your face dry—which doesn’t end up happening because more tears well up in your waterline anyway. You hear a quiet grunt from him as he leans over and puts your seatbelt on you with a click from it locking in place. Ghost reaches into the backseat and grabs a towel—almost as if he knew this would happen. You sniffle as you begin to wind down, unable to speak just yet. Your eyes follow his movements as he drapes this towel over you in an attempt to keep you warm and soak up any water. Ghost buckles his own seatbelt and then quickly turns the engine back on, the Jeep roaring to life.

Just as you open your mouth to thank him and maybe to apologize, there’s another unsuspecting boom, causing you to gasp and cover your ears again, closing your eyes. Fuck, you did not want to keep panicking in front of him—this isn’t the first time you’ve panicked in front of of him due to the weather, but you’ve always felt bad every time. You never told him the reason and he never seemed to ask, so you two naturally fell into a rhythm like this. Your throat feels like it’s closing again and your surroundings are ignored, your fingers pressing the outside skin of your ears against your ear’s tunnel, creating suction that will surely be painful when you move your hands away.

Ghost’s hands wrap around your wrists again and pull them away from your ears, causing a panicked whimper to leave you. “Nononono, please—“ You beg quietly. Is he doing this just to torture you?? Ghost was always nice to you, why is he doing this—oh.

He slid headphones on top of your head, headphones that are connected to his phone. You sniffle and gasp to catch your breath, Ghost grabs your finger and uses it to touch the screen. He makes you press a few blurry buttons and then your favorite of genre of music filters through the speakers into your ears, nearly immediately putting you at ease. You feel your shoulders begin to melt the stress and fear off, your heart taking a break from it’s terrified state and beginning to slow down, and you can begin to feel your fingertips again. You continue to shiver, considering you’re soaked, but Ghost puts the car into drive and turns the heater on, making sure the vents are pointing towards you. You shut your eyes so you didn’t have to watch the lightning—you hated the thunder and the visual made you twitch. As Ghost drove, you couldn’t help but feel extremely thankful for him. Admittedly, Ghost wasn’t too good at comfort, but he provided what you needed quick and seemed to know knowledgeable about anxiety and panic attacks.

The car rolls to a stop and you keep your eyes shut closed. The car jostles ever so slightly when Ghost hops out of his seat and closes the drivers side door. You don’t notice that he comes around to your side until the door opens and you feel his fingers unbuckle your seatbelt, grabbing your arm and helping you out of his Jeep. You don’t feel rain so your eyelids flutter open and he’s using his jacket that wears over his hoodie to shield you. You sniffle as he leads you to your front door, keeping you close as you walk.

Ghost helps you unlock the door with your keys and goes inside with you, and once you’re safe and secure inside, he faces you and gently takes the headphones off. You look at him while trembling once again, your gut twisting in anxiety. “Let’s get’cha out of those wet clothes, hm?” His voice is low and rough, soothing. Your fingers twitch before you lean forward and wrap your arms around the man, his heat radiating into your cold skin. You feel him tense ever so slightly, but large arms come around and hold you against himself firmly, allowing you take what comfort you needed.

[poppy-metal]

dad’s best friend!patrick letting you stay at his apartment when you get into a fight with art…. i’m thinking you snuck out and returned to find art sitting on the couch, waiting for you to come back. just screaming and yelling at each other, you’re throwing things at him. he calls you reckless and a child and idiotic. all things he’s called patrick before. banging on patrick’s door after you drove your car 20 miles over the speed limit from your house to his apartment building. he opens the door all angry because who the fuck is banging his door down at one in the morning. he’s less angry when he sees it’s you but he still says “why are you here????” in that gruff just woke up voice. when you stutter and look up with him with those big wet eyes and say “i just… i need you right now” he can’t find it in himself to be angry anymore, just pulling you into this apartment and wrapping you up in his arms when you cry into his shoulder. the same arms that held you like this when you scrapped your knee when you were eight, the same arms that held you on his shoulder at one of your dad‘s matches when you were six. just so familiar and comforting and warm. crying and saying that art just “doesn’t understand me.” he “doesn’t get me.” but patrick does. you may be his best friend’s daughter but he sees you and he gets you. he’ll hide you in his apartment for as long as you want, saying that you’re not there when art inevitably knocks on his door a day later.

anyway.

- ⭐️

he really is just a sap for you :((( can't turn you away even when its the one thing he should do - should call art right away, because he'd be worried sick by now but. he sees himself in you, he remembers being called immature and reckless and all sorts of stuff by people who just didn't understand that he wanted to live life to the fullest - because what was the point of feeling all that shitty stuff, of slowing down just to appease other people and stop you from doing what you wanted - yeah, he was more responsible now, but still. at your age, it should be all about impulsivity and the rush of being alive.

and then there's the worse part of him that cant turn you away because you're just..... you came to him. you had to have a bunch of other friends you could go to that would be better, but it was him you turned to. it was him you looked up to. admired. it was inappropriate and wrong, the way you felt about him, but fuck. it felt good. it felt good to be needed.

he lets you stay. puts up less of a fuss about it than you thought he would, but that's probably because of the tears. he makes you a spot on the couch and when you pout and say its ungentlemenly for him not to give up his bed he just looks at you. says, "we both know you want to be in my bed for alot more reasons than comfort.", and well. he's not wrong. you definitely would have touched yourself if you had slept there. humped one of his pillows.

still, you manage to haggle one of his shirts from him - claiming your clothes were to uncomfortable to sleep in - and he'd tossed you one of his old tennis academy shirts. the fabric stretched out and worn. it dwarfs you when you slip it on, reaching your knees. its not as good being in his bed would have been, but you still drag the fabric over your nose in the middle of the night and inhale his scent while you touch through your wet slit - stroking and petting. you suck the fabric into your mouth too, imagining he just wore it and you could suck his sweat from it - pull it into your mouth. you imagine him in his bed just a couple doors down from you - sleeping on his stomach in just his boxers - fuck, maybe naked? - the strong expanse of his back, the thickness of his thighs. you imagine how he'd react to catching you masturbating in his shirt - if he'd get angry and call you a bad little girl. would he flip you over his knee, beat some sense into you? would cant stop from pulling the shirt completely over your head as you drench your fingers, pumping them in and out of your wet pussy as you think about being completely covered by patrick - pressed down and pinned with nothing to do but take in his musk and let him inside your tight body -

you cum sticky and wet all over your fingers. the bottom of his shirt damp with your juices. the apartment is quiet. you wonder how long you can take being around patrick zweig and not break - you feel like if he doesn't fuck you soon, it'll kill you.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

How The Movie Night Went (18+)

Fortnite!Raphael x reader

A/N: Another short blurb like thingy I just had to do❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Rough sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, back shots.

It had started off like any other movie night for you and your boyfriend. You and Raph had decided to start watching a series together, and this time you would actually watch it, and not get caught up in any other activities. Well, that’s at least what the two of you have been saying for a while now. But each and every time, you and Raph would end up doing… other things. And those things would usually involve Netflix asking if the two of you were still watching, while you had either one of your openings stuffed, or Raph’s lips locked somewhere on you. And today… was no different.

The series you and Raph had wanted to watch together was playing in the background, with an important scene taking place. A tense showdown, the protagonist having a meeting with their enemy, tension slowly rising before the inevitable climax. But neither you or Raph was keeping an eye on it. In fact, it had very quickly turned into background noise to the activities you and your turtle boyfriend had gotten up to. To be honest, you couldn’t even hear what was going on on the screen, due to Raph’s heavy grunts and growls, and the echoing slaps from his skin meeting the back of your thighs.

You yelped as Raph’s three fingered hand came down on your right butt cheek, watching it jiggle before grabbing on with both hands, pulling you back on his as he increased the speed of his hips.

You cried out, resting your forehead against the soft surface of the couch, once again thanking the universe that Raph’s family wasn’t home, allowing you to be as loud as you wanted to. And Raph loves when you’re loud, his body reacting to it instantly, his speed increasing even further.

Moans left your lips as one of your hands slided down between your legs, finding your bundle of nerves, being wet from both you and Raph’s slick that had dripped down over it, using it to lubricate your fingers, rubbing them in circles over you. Raph saw you move your hand over you, and felt your walls close in around him, sending a low groan out with his deep churrs, his hips buckling against you from behind.

“Fuck yeah, babe”, he moaned, catching your eyes as you looked at him over your shoulder, your cheeks flushed and our mouth agape. “Rub yourself for me. Fucking cum on my dick”, he continued, before planting another slap to your butt cheek, the loud sound piercing through the empty lair.

“Raph! Babe!”, you called out, feeling tears of pleasure forming in your eyes, at the stinging yet pleasurable sensation on your soft flesh.

There sounded loud yells and screams from the tv screen, but neither you or Raph gave it a second thought. Instead Raph lifted his left knee, putting the weight on his foot instead, giving him another angle to plow into you with. You cried out once more, your back arching upwards, and your fingers stopping momentarily. Raph leaned over you, his plastron resting against your back, while one of his hands moved from your hips, up your sides and under your shirt, grabbing your breast in his fist. You felt his breath against the shell of your ear, slowly bringing life to your fingers once again. Raph chuckled.

“Do you love my dick, babe?”, he asked, amusement thick in his voice. “Do you love it when I fuck you stupid? Do you love it when I take you on the couch while no one is here, huh, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Raph!”, you cried out, your fingers working just as fast as his thrusting member, both bringing immense pleasure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You let out a desperate cry, letting Raph know that you were close. So damn close that you almost were going crazy.

“I’m going to make you cum so hard”, Raph mumbeled, before straightening back up, placing both hands back on your hips, going to town on you with all the power his strong body could muster.

You saw stars before your eyes, as Raph assaulted your g-spot over and over again, pushing you over the edge and into the ocean of pleasure that was your orgasm. Your body contorted under Raph, with the hand you hand used on yourself, instinctively reaching for Raph behind you. He held onto your hand, feeling his own high rabbitly appearance with the clenching of your walls around him, your juices gushing down his member. He felt the tightening of his muscles behind his cloaca, quickly pulling out of you, before resting himself between your cheeks, right before your lower back. With small grunts, Raph came onto your back side, closing his eyes as he emptied himself onto you, letting him run down the curve of your back, pooling at your spine.

Slowly coming down from your highs, panting as you opened your eyes, you were met with a very familiar message from Netflix on the tv screen; “Are you still watching?” Once again, you and Raph had failed to watch the damn show, creating a mess of your backside like all of the other times. Guess movie nights were just bound to fail for the two of you - just like you both secretly wanted it to.

[britney-rosberg06]

guys can i be real for a second? Because as a fan of both Logan and Kimi i feel like this needs to be said:

Nobody benefits from giving Logan Kimi’s seat mid year.

No One

No not even Kimi.

If F1 is a business which it is, we’ll think about this in a business sense. Because by kicking Logan out in favor of Kimi just doesn’t make sense

Williams saw the sheer backlash to Australia. Their fans were angry at the mere idea of kicking Logan out in favor of Alex and some are still angry. They would lose a huge portion of their fan base (a fan base that is getting pretty American, may I add, thanks to their American sponsors) by kicking Logan out. No fanbase means no merch sales, no extra cash to burn that we know Williams needs

Secondly, Logan has obligations with Williams through summer break. Huge PR events like Lap of Legends which is sponsored by an American beer and stars Logan and Williams Racing ambassador Jenson Button. If you pull away Logan, the sponsors in Michelob Ultra will be furious as they funded a whole project to center around Logan. And Jenson, who has also spoken very kindly about him in the media will be angry as Logan is known as someone who has his backing/support. So Williams would lose a bit of Jenson’s trust and anger a huge sponsor? Right okay,

Of course there’s James Vowles. Who is struggling to come out from under Toto Wolff’s shadow. How will it look for James if he were to kick out one of his own juniors in favor of someone Toto Wolff is forcing upon him. Like he’s a lapdog who will roll over and do whatever Toto wants? Yeah, that exactly

There’s also the Prema of it all, which a lot of people are forgetting. Kimi is under Prema contract to be racing in F2. There is no reservist for him and there has to be to drivers in F2. Not one. Prema is not going to let one of their drivers—a driver who is getting them a lot of media attention might I add—go on to F1 when he’s only done three f2 races. That’s not how contracts work! Kimi is on contract and that contract states he had to race in f2 and compete in the championship. The whole championship. The championship Prema gets more money/funding/sponsors from the better they do. They can’t do good with only one driver. So no extra money.

Also, Prema has the power to deny Williams as Kimi is their driver and their responsibility. Kimi uses their trainers, engineers, gym, facilities etc, to take him mid season might make Williams or Mercedes or Kimi himself liable for that bill à là Oscar Piastri and Alpine as Kimi failed to fulfill terms of a contract while still benefiting from it.

I’m not saying it’ll work but I’m saying there’s a chance they could.

Now Kimi himself. He’d be entering in the F1 paddock as a pariah. Being granted an exception is sure to make him unpopular, just like Max was. The spotlight that was on Ollie Bearman in Jeddah? Yeah multiply it by a hundred and you’ll get somewhere close to the attention on Kimi. As previously established, PR-wise Williams would be in hell, who do you think they are going to take it out on? Yeah, the seventeen year old who has no control over the situation. He’ll be traipsed around as the new youngest whoever while also being hated on by a majority of people who think he doesn’t deserve that seat.

Speaking of Ollie Bearman. It’s worth noting that Ollie’s pain level after Jeddah was sky high. He was training for f2 races, not f1. Consistently racing in F1 could wreck Kimi’s body due to the sudden change and would have so many negative and lasting affects.

And when he inevitably doesn’t get points on debut because it’s a williams and it sucks ass, everyone will be screaming and crying about how Kimi is washed or how he sucks and so on and so on. What would that do to a seventeen year old’s confidence?

And when Toto wolff—the only guy presumed to benefit at all from this whole situation he allegedly cooked up gets reveals to have had a huge part in this kid’s life, way bigger than the general audience knows (seriously, he has a picture of baby Kimi in his office) everyone is going to be screaming at him for making a bad/questionable managerial decision that has deeply affected the mental health of a teen boy.

Mercedes as a team is already on the decline, this would be the Shitty PR move to end all Shitty PR moves.

Am i saying Logan is going to be on the grid next year? No. But the idea that it is a smart decision for any of the teams or drivers involved to replace Logan is insane.

[prentissluvr]

anything for you — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x gn!bau!reader ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : crying, kissing, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 2.5K summary : luke admits he'd do anything for you after you open up about a hard case

crying in a public bathroom is the worst. and yet, for most, it is unavoidable at some point or another. this evening, it’s your turn to cry in a public bathroom. sloped pathetically against the stall door, you thank the lord that you’ve mastered the art of crying silently, because the last thing you want is a coworker to walk in and hear you. 

however, you do curse the fact that you couldn’t just wait to cry until you got home. of course, that’s what you had planned to do, but the volatility of human emotions wholly foiled said plans when your tired feet found their way to your desk in the half empty bullpen. you had collapsed into your chair, dropping your go-bag to the floor without a second thought when the inevitable sting of tears that come with a rough case decided to show up early. swallowing hard, you realized the tears weren’t going to go anywhere but your cheeks to drip off your chin and land on your white dress shirt.

that’s why you’re crying in the public bathroom of a federal building, hoping you aren’t gone long enough to arouse suspicion among any fellow bau agents who haven’t yet gone home.

with a final deep breath, you wipe your fingers over your eyes and straighten up your shirt before walking out of the stall. at the sink, you dab some cold water right under your eyes to reduce the puffiness just long enough for you to get past your far too intuitive coworkers and head home. gently drying away any remaining wetness or glaringly obvious signs of your bathroom activities from your face, you take in your appearance in the mirror and decide that this is the best that you’ll get. your eyes are still red, but not too much that they can’t be explained away with excuses of a long flight, or maybe early-spring allergies.

the issue is that you assumed you’d have a good minute to pull yourself together a bit more if you walk a little slow. as you exit the bathroom with a loud, defeated huff of breath leaving your lips, you look up to see luke alvez headed in your direction, seemingly on the way to the bathrooms himself.

you curse to yourself because you can tell that he saw you first, which means he caught you uncomposed.

“hey, luke,” you greet him as normal, throwing him a casual smile and praying he doesn’t think anything of your slightly disheveled state. “see you tomorrow!” you plan to brush past him as he heads your way, but he stops in front of you, rather than proceeding to the restroom.

“actually, i was looking for you,” he says, his own voice casual. 

“mm, aren’t you always,” you tease, easily slipping into your normal mode of conversation with him despite your slightly unstable emotional state.

“i just can’t help myself,” he grins at you, shrugging and raising his eyebrows like he can’t deny it before his expression turns a bit more serious, earnest in the way it gets when he really means something. “i wanted to check up on you though, you seemed really exhausted on the jet.” it’s easy for you to tell that your tiredness on the way back home is not the only thing that he’s noticed, but you try to play along like it is.

“i appreciate that, and yeah, i’m honestly exhausted, but that’s nothing new, is it? it was a long case,” you try to word it like you’re conceding a bit, rather than full on denying him so you don’t come across as defensive.

“right, of course,” he smiles kindly, and you know he’s only saying that because he’s respecting the fact that you don’t want to talk about it. he doesn’t really believe you. “well either way, even if you’re just tired, you’ll tell me if there’s anything i can do for you, yeah? i just wanted to remind you that i’m always willing to lend an ear, treat you to takeout or a movie, or really anything at all. i don’t want you to feel like you can’t open up to me about a hard case, or anything like that.” he drops plenty of obvious hints, but his voice is sweet through and through, without a hint of accusation or prying. he makes it so easy to tell that he means what he says, that he wants to help, and that he cares about you. the way he looks at you has you craving to cave for him, his eyes all soft and earnest and full of respect.

“thank you, luke,” you smile half-heartedly, voice softer and more truthful than before. you wonder if your not-so-little crush on him makes it dangerous for you to take him up on any of those offers, but you also think maybe you just don’t care. why pass up a perfect opportunity to spend time with just him and his sweet self. “maybe… maybe we can just talk a little on the way to my car if you’re ready to go home?” the smile he gives you has your knees feeling just a bit weak. does he have to look at you like he’d do anything for you?

“i’d love that,” he says, all soft in a way that makes you crazy. he walks with you, side by side on the way to grab your things from the bullpen, and you wonder what it’d feel like if he were to sling his arm over your shoulders and pull you in close. not that you haven’t felt his arms around you before, but something about him makes you crave after any sort of casual intimacy with him. but instead, he grabs your bag for you, and you have to walk even farther apart from him. you thank him, of course, for carrying it for you, and you wonder how to tell him that he has a beautiful smile. as you wait for the elevator, he asks what you wanted to talk about.

clearing your throat, you feel awkward and unsure how to start. you haven’t even decided if you want to tell him just how bad this case was, if you want to gloss over it, or if you want to talk about something else entirely to take your mind off of things. 

“i, um–” the ding of the elevator interrupts you before you can really begin. inside, you press the button to the garage floor and lean against the cool metal of the back wall. he settles next to you for the short ride. you sigh deeply, and you can feel luke’s eyes on you, likely curious and concerned, but not so much that it reads as pity.

in the small time frame of a moment, you think about the way luke has always jumped to take care of you, even when you first started out. sometimes it’s as subtle as a small smile when he’s passing you by, a genuine, casual praise when you contribute something to the profile, or a cup of coffee or tea just the way you like it. other times it’s a hug he needs just as much as you after a close call in the field, or a steady hand, gentle touch, and furrowed brow when you get even slightly injured. he always has the right words for you and he always makes it known that he is as fiercely loyal to you as he is to the rest of the team.

“i know you know it already,” you finally start, “but this case was hard for me.” he nods, understanding and compassion filling up his features in an instant. “honestly not sure if i really want to get into it right now, but– but maybe later. it just…hit a sore spot and i’m still grappling with the aftermath of that. you know this, but when the case is active it’s kind of hard to deal with anything else. so when we got back it kind of really hit me, y’know, the fact that i haven’t been able to process it yet. now i just want to go to bed,” you chuckle half-heartedly, feeling a new level of exhaustion sinking in.

“believe me, i get that,” he mirrors your tired laugh, always so observant to the way you want a conversation to go. this time, he knows you don’t want it to be heavy or highly emotional. “i’m sorry this case struck close to home like that, that always sucks,” he says empathetically. “nights like this i always fall asleep to one of my favorite movies,” he keeps talking as the elevator doors open and you walk out and towards the parking garage, “don’t have to think about what’s bothering you yet and you don’t have to worry about missing something when you fall asleep. not sure if that’s your kind of thing, but it might not hurt to give it a try.”

you smile at his genuine advice. “it certainly wouldn’t,” you agree, infinitely grateful for the way luke treats you almost too good. the two of you stall at the edge of the parking garage before heading in, not quite sure where the other has parked their car. an idea sparks in your mind, and you think it’s the exhaustion that makes you say it out loud. “listen, uh, not sure if this is too much to ask for tonight, but… any chance i can take you up on that offer for take out and a movie? not sure if a movie all by myself would do the trick.”

the bright smile on luke’s face might be a bit inappropriate for the context, but you couldn’t care less, because your own thoughts about how handsome he looks like this aren’t any better.

“of course, you could never ask for anything that would be too much. anything to help, anything for you,” he drops that bomb like it’s so easy to say, so easy to feel that way about you. earlier you had cursed the look in his eyes that seemed to say that, and now you have no idea what to do once he’s said those words aloud, confirmed them without a single doubt. “we’ll take my car, c’mon.” he gestures with his head in the general direction, casually leading you along as if he hadn’t just made your heart race so fast you begin to forget that you cried today at all. “plus, there’s nothing better than roxy to make you feel better. she’ll be excited to see you.”

you try to regain any semblance of your composure as you follow him along. “i’m excited to see her, too,” you smile, “thank you, luke,” you say once again.

“it’s my pleasure, seriously.” he uses that same voice he always uses for you, full of conviction and with at least the hint of a smile. he’s always smiling around you, and you wonder if it could be because it makes you smile back. he told you last week after work one day, casual and soft, that he likes your smile. 

once you reach his car, he tosses your bags in the back seat before turning to open the passenger side door for you. but you’re already there, hand on the handle and his fingers curl right over yours.

“sorry,” he laughs out quietly, but he doesn’t move away. you’re far more relaxed than you were earlier than night, but with you so close, he can still see the hurt swimming around in your pink-rimmed eyes. you see his features soften into something akin to maybe love, and his voice is quiet with care. “can i hug you?” he asks, like this time it would be different, because he’s certainly hugged you before. you take in the sweet gaze of his eyes, and you nod readily.

“of course,” you whisper back, and you mean that. he can hug you whenever he likes.

it takes less than an instant for you to be folded up into his arms, his hands reaching around you like he’s been waiting to do this all night, one hand coming to rest securely on the back of your head and the other on your back. your own arms curl around his middle and you just melt into his embrace. you hadn’t even realized just how much you needed this, and now you have it, perfect and warm against the nighttime breeze that’s begun to filter into the open air of the lot.

he rubs up and down your back until the gentle silence of it all is broken up by the sounds of someone backing their car up to head home. luke pulls away slowly, soft as the feel of his arms around you and lingers there, looking at you under the flickering garage lights like you’re an angel.

you feel a little bashful under his gaze, torn between making a teasing quip about how he can’t get enough of you or kissing him right on the lips. instead, you pull him back to you without warning, smushing your face into his shoulder and sighing happily when you pull a surprised laugh from him. he returns the hug with equal force, squeezing you close before pressing a solid kiss to your hairline. you pull back just a bit to take him in, unable to control the smile spreading across your face. his arms don’t leave their place wrapped around you.

“you sure know how to turn someone’s night around,” you grin.

“i bet i could come up with one more thing that might help you out,” he says cheekily. 

you raise your eyebrows. “oh, really? and what might that be, luke alvez?” god, he loves the way you say his name, the way you run your hands up to loop around his neck.

“well,” he copies you by saying your full name back. you love the way he says it, too. “i could kiss you, if you wouldn’t mind.” you practically swoon at the way he always remains unfailingly respectful, even when he has that playful lilt to his voice.

you make an overexaggerated expression of contemplation as he shifts his hands to settle on your waist. “hmm, i might have to think about that.” in response, he tugs you even closer to him, that teasing smile you’ve come to seek out pulling at his pretty lips.

“do you? and how long will that take? because i’m not sure if i can wait for long,” he teases back. 

“i guess it’d be alright if you kissed me now,” you concede, still with that playful tone.

“just alright?” he questions, eyebrows raised.

deciding you’re done teasing, with that smile he finds to be just irresistible, you tell him, “luke, if you don’t kiss me right now, i swe–” then, without a second to spare, his lips are on yours, and every last worry of yours melts away to make way for his soft lips, his steady hands, and the fact that he’d do anything for you.

[steddieas-shegoes]

CONGRATS ON 3000!!! ❤️ That’s so exciting!

For the ask game, I’d love to see your take on the song Heaven, Iowa by Fall Out Boy! (I vibe with “Scar-crossed lovers forever” as a Steddie-coded lyric but honestly whatever comes to mind for you when you hear the song is great!)

Congrats again!! 💕🎉

Thank you! I got a few different steddie-coded lyrics from this song, but the one you provided is good for something short, so I’m sticking with that! ♥️

〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️➿〰️

He wasn’t even supposed to be here. Wayne specifically asked him to stop coming to the Harrington parties, didn’t want him to risk being caught when they inevitably got shut down.

He knows he’d be in deep shit if a cop managed to catch him and see what he had in his lunchbox.

But one of his best customers insisted he stop by, promising he knew enough people would buy his entire inventory. He wouldn’t have to stay long.

“That’ll be $30 for the bag, or $10 if you just want a joint,” Eddie told one of the girls who always gave him dirty looks in the hall to cover up the hungry look she gave him at parties.

“What about the harder stuff?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Don’t have any on me,” he rolled his eyes. They should know by now he only handles those items when requested.

“Fine. Just a joint then.”

He exchanges his product for her money, another addition to his savings that seemed to constantly dwindle on useless. He never stopped trying though.

She was his last customer in the line that had built up in the kitchen, so he decided to make his way to the backyard to finish up. Not many people usually hung out there when it was this chilly outside, but he had to give it a shot.

The patio surrounding the pool was absent of people, but he decided to take that as a sign that he needed a minute alone.

He heard a sniffle and his head shot over to the table in the corner of the covered area.

“Harrington?”

What the hell was he even doing out here? Was he crying?

“I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jesus. He sounded like someone had tried to strangle him. Was he sick?

“Dude, you okay?” Eddie steps closer, hopes he doesn’t end up regretting choosing kindness. “It’s kinda cold out here.”

Steve was sitting in a chair, knees up to his chest, arms around his legs. His face was half-buried in his knees, but Eddie could still make out the shivering.

“Yeah. Just needed some air.”

“You shouldn’t stay out here long without a jacket, man.”

Steve didn’t respond.

Eddie was actually growing more concerned for him, like maybe he’d been drugged with something and couldn’t move.

“Hey, look at me,” Eddie snaps his fingers in Steve’s face, relaxing slightly when he glares up at him with surprisingly clear, but watery eyes. “You need a jacket.”

“I’m fine. Go back inside.”

“You won’t be if you sit out here much longer. You’ll freeze to death. And then I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing I could have stopped it by making you go inside and I’ll die feeling guilty.”

Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it make Steve give the tiniest smile and lift his head to look at him completely? Also yes.

“It wouldn’t be your fault.”

There was a cut under Steve’s left eye, and as his eyes adjust to the light coming from the windows, he sees a purple bruise surrounding most of the left side of his face.

“What happened?”

“The crown was pretty heavy when it fell,” Steve laughs without humor.

Eddie feels his stomach sink further.

“Who did this?”

It’s not like Eddie could do much, but maybe he could at least make sure he didn’t sell to the guy.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve placed his legs down, careful, like he was trying not to hurt himself more. “You got anything left?”

Eddie should say no. He should leave now, head to the comfort and warmth of the trailer, forget about this interaction entirely. Maybe give one awkward head nod to Steve at school on Monday as an acknowledgment he didn’t forget, but won’t say anything to anyone.

“Just the one joint. You want it?” Eddie set his lunchbox on the table across from Steve and sat down.

“How much?” Steve turned to face him, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“Free for the host.”

That’s not something Eddie ever did, but if anyone needed it, it was Steve.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I am. You got a lighter on you?”

Steve shook his head.

“Then I light it and get the first drag. Deal?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie is gonna regret this entire interaction, but of all his regrets, it’s probably pretty low on the list, so he pulls his lighter out and does exactly what he said he would.

Steve is watching him so intensely, it’s almost enough to make him blush. He won’t, he hopes, but it’s a hell of an effort.

“This why you’re sitting out here instead of enjoying your party?” Eddie asked as he hands over the joint.

“Part of it,” Steve takes a long drag. “Just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?”

“All of it.”

An alarm starts going off in Eddie’s head, a reminder that Steve may seem like he’s got the entire world, but those who hold the world tend to lose their grip.

“All of it meaning…”

“All of this. The parties, the people who only like me because I have money and throw parties, the popularity contest I didn’t even ask to participate in, the fucking concussions and nightmares. I’m just-“ Steve takes another drag. “I’m just tired. You should go back inside.”

Eddie watches him lean back in his chair, his shirt riding up and exposing just enough of his stomach to see a scar. The moonlight reflects off the lighter line of skin.

“Nah. Kinda like it out here. It’s quiet. Company ain’t bad either.”

Steve looks back at him with a frown. “Don’t have to pretend to like me, dude. Everyone else already does that enough.”

“Who said I like you? I’m tolerating you.” Eddie smirks, waits for Steve to recognize he’s joking. When Steve relaxes, he nods towards the scar on Steve’s stomach. “Appendix?”

“What?” Steve glances down. “Oh. Yeah. When I was 12.”

“I was 14 when I got mine out,” Eddie lifts his layers to show off his matching scar. “My Uncle Wayne thought I was dying. He didn’t even know what an appendix was, let alone that it can cause all this trouble.”

“Yeah. My parents weren’t home when mine ruptured so I had to call the neighbors.”

Eddie frowns down at the table. “They leave you alone a lot? Even then?”

“Yeah. Not a big deal. I made it through okay.”

Okay isn’t the word Eddie would describe, but Eddie didn’t wanna argue.

“You eat a ridiculous amount of ice cream after?” Eddie’s smile grew when Steve nodded. “I convinced Wayne it was the only thing I could eat for nearly a week after.”

Steve laughed, Eddie smiles.

“You got a nice laugh, Harrington.”

He watches as Steve gets red in the face, a beautiful blush covering his cheeks and spreading down his neck.

“Not sure the last time I really laughed,” Steve admitted.

“Shame.”

Eddie stood up, grabbed his lunchbox, and walked around to stand in front of Steve. Steve looked up at him with glassy eyes, the high already sinking in.

“Want me to clear everyone out?” Eddie shouldn’t offer that, or anything. But Steve looks so lost, so tired.

“Nah. It’s nice just not being alone, even if it’s people I don’t like.”

“That’s fucked, man.”

“Yeah, well,��� Steve shrugged. “Thanks for the weed.”

“Anytime.”

Eddie doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it’s the one drag of the joint he’d taken, maybe it’s the cold air, or maybe it’s just that annoying crush he’s had on Steve Harrington for years.

He reaches out, cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, and holds him for just a moment.

Neither of them say anything when Steve leans into it.

They don’t say anything when Eddie pulls away with a sad smile.

They won’t talk about it again at school.

But when Steve saves Eddie from the Upside Down a full year later, when he’s sitting at his bedside cupping Eddie’s cheek in his hand, they both seem to remember at the same time.

“We’ve got two matching scars now, Harrington.”

“Don’t think the appendix has anything on demobat scars, Munson.”

“What happened to calling me honey? I liked that.”

“What happened to sweetheart?”

Eddie let out a small laugh. “You’re gonna be trouble, sweetheart.”

“But I’m gonna be your trouble, honey.”

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

[Robin scrambled over the back of the sofa and wedged himself beside Oscar, absently watching TV. Part of him hoped his father wouldn’t wake, but he was a notoriously light sleeper so the chances were slim. Sure enough, Oscar stirred, sleepily wrapping an arm around his son with a cosy hum] Oscar: Mmh-.. what time is it? Robin: I don’t know. Oscar: Late, then… [Robin shrugged a shoulder, the steady rhythm of his father’s heartbeat soothing his frayed nerves; he wished they could just stay like this forever-.. Oscar’s breathing softened as he threatened to drift off again though, reminding Robin why he’d clambered out of bed in the first place] Robin: Papa.. can I ask you something? Oscar: Anything. [Robin held his breath, readying himself for the inevitable barrage of Oscar’s unpleasant memories] Robin: Can you tell me the truth about what Larry said? I asked grandma, but she made me promise I’d ask you too-.. that you’d explain it better than her. Oscar: Is that what you’ve been thinking about this whole time? Robin: I don’t want you to die again… Oscar: I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Robin: You can’t exactly promise something like that. Oscar: I promise I’ll try my best not to, then. Robin: You still think about that sorta stuff though, don’t you? How do you know it won’t happen again? [Oscar sighed as he righted himself and settled Robin atop his knee, wondering what on earth Sidney had told him] Robin: She said you knew the risks-.. why’d you do it? Oscar: I wasn’t thinking straight-.. bit off more than I could chew. I was in a pretty bad place at the time. Robin: Why? Oscar: I like to keep things to myself, but it doesn’t do you any favours; I used to use all that nasty stuff to bury my feelings, to numb the pain it caused me to keep it all locked up n’ keep going. Robin: But everyone has secrets, don’t they? Oscar: They do, the fewer the better though-.. I think you’re as bad as me for bottling stuff up, but it’s so important to talk about things n’ let people help, ‘cause otherwise you’ll just end up finding unhealthy ways to cope instead. Robin: So, it happened by accident? Oscar: Yeah-.. it was pretty scary, to be honest. Robin: But it definitely wasn’t on purpose? Oscar: Sometimes I figured it’d be easier, but I didn’t want to die, no. Robin: I don’t want you to either, not ever. Oscar: It’s normal to be frightened of losing the people you love. Robin: Really? Oscar: Yeah-.. I used to worry about my grandad dying when I was your age. Sometimes it’d randomly pop into my head and I’d wonder what I’d do without him n’ get all pissy with everyone ‘til I could be alone, then I’d cry about it. [Robin felt a twinge of sadness yet smiled faintly, feeling slightly less weird for worrying so excessively] Robin: Sorry I asked grandma first… Oscar: It’s alright, being curious is normal too. [Oscar squeezed Robin tightly, semi-wishing he’d explained a little sooner; he was so mature for his age sometimes] Oscar: I’ll never ever be upset with you for asking questions, okay? There’s nothing you can’t talk to me about. Robin: I didn’t want to make you remember. Oscar: The past is what makes us who we are, buddy-.. I just hope I’ve made enough mistakes for the both of us…