#kay can i just catch my breath for a second

[mydearestdaryl]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐚 (18+) ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl needed some love and you gladly gave it to him. Warnings: TWD violence, gore, blood, character deaths, explicit language, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v, simple aftercare). Not proofread. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! reader smut + fluff. Setting: Quarry. A/N: I read a post some time ago that said that Daryl in season 1 just needed some kisses to calm down and I couldn't agree more so I wrote this. It's also my first time trying to write smut, so I am so sorry if this sucks, and I was so hesitant to post it so please be nice lol. 😞

“Ha-ha, funny girl,” T-Dog deadpanned, rolling his eyes and suppressing a genuine laugh. It was the third bad joke you told in a row, and he was starting to find them funny.

“I really am,” you replied breathlessly, finally able to catch your breath after cackling at your joke.

“Okay, Eddie Murphy,” T-Dog, added jokingly, making you giggle as he placed a bunch of firewood you'd been helping him split for the past 40 minutes. “Let's head back.”

“I just thought of another one!” You exclaimed as you walked next to him. His groan of annoyance made you laugh before you even told the joke. “What do you call a fish with no eyes?”

“I. Don't. Know.”

“A fsh,” you replied after a dramatic pause, hardly able to contain your laugh as he gave you a side-eye, pressing his lips together to hold a smile back. “Please, I-” you started, but interrupted yourself as a commotion reached your ears from the camp. You recognized Daryl's voice.

Sharing a confused look with T, you both picked up the pace, coming into view with what seemed like a heated discussion between Daryl, Shane, and Rick, the man who joined the camp yesterday. You felt a little annoyed that they ignored T-Dog's request to let him tell Daryl, but oh well.

“Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself to Daryl.

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked him, “y' got somethin' you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal,” Rick stated, apparently with confidence. “He's still there.”

You stayed in place, watching as T-Dog slowly took a few steps closer to the scene.

Daryl hummed as he turned around, pacing shortly before he spoke, “Le' me process this,” said he while turning to face Rick again, clearly growing irritated. “Ya' sayin' you handcuffed ma brother to a roof, and you left 'im there!” His veins popped as his voice got raspier as he yelled at the other man.

Rick gulped before admitting. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Daryl tossed the squirrels he was carrying toward Rick, the latter swiftly dodging them before Shane jumped into action, tackling Daryl to the ground. Next, he pulled a knife from its holster, swinging it at the former cops, but being stopped in a matter of seconds.

In the blink of an eye, Shane put Daryl in a chokehold, while Rick snatched the weapon out of his hand. “Ya best let me go!” warned Daryl, struggling in Shane's grip as the cop brought him to the ground. You walked closer toward Carol as your eyes remained on the scene, but decided to walk to the other side as you noticed Ed was next to her.

“I think it's better if we don't,” Shane replied, almost mockingly.

“Chockehold's illegal,” Daryl added, face red from the struggle.

“'Kay, file a complaint,” If this situation was not so tense, you would've laughed. You did a little on the inside. Rick kneeled in front of the restrained man as Shane spoke again. “C'mon, man, can keep this up all day.”

“I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. You think we can manage that?” Rick spoke, trying to find Daryl's eyes. “You think we can manage that?” the cop repeated when no answer was obtained.

Panting and growling, Daryl grunted in agreement, finally getting Shane to release him; more aggressively than he should, if they asked you. Sitting up quickly, Daryl pointed at Shane warningly. Rick continued: “What I did was not on a whim,” he explained. “Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

“It's not Rick's fault,” T-Dog spoke up, his leg bouncing anxiously as he confessed. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

“Couldn't pick it up?” Daryl retorted. His voice was calmer, but you recognized in his stormy eyes a hint of grief. Nobody else cared about his brother when his brother was everything he had. You couldn't imagine how terrible this situation was for him.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

Dropping his head, Daryl slowly got up, gathering his composure again. Anger returned to his expression as he walked past T-dog, “'f it's s'posed ta make me feel better, it don't,” glaring daggers at the 'culprit.'

“Maybe this will,” T went on to say, “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him... with the padlock”

“It's gotta count for something,” Rick piped in.

Drying a tear as soon as it came, Daryl took a deep breath. “Hell with all y'all!” he screamed. “Jus' tell me where he is, so's I can go get 'im.”

“He'll show you,” Lori stated, staring into her husband's eyes. “Ain't that right?” Rick's eyes left his wife's after a few seconds, finding T-Dog's shortly before nodding.

“I'm going back,” he declared, almost solemnly, hands on his hips as his eyes met Daryl's again. The younger Dixon clenched his jaw before walking past everyone to get his crossbow and stomping to his tent.

You didn't notice you went behind him until Dale stopped you by grabbing your wrist. “What are you doing, honey?” the older man questioned. He'd always been kind and sweet to you, so you gently released yourself from his grip.

“He's upset,” you explained, and he seemed to understand as he nodded reluctantly, but understandingly. On your way, you grabbed your half-full water bottle, and slowly approached the edge of the camp, where the tent of the Dixon's was.

You found Daryl sitting on the chair outside his tent, shoulders hunched forward, fists clenched with anger as if grasping the last shreds of control. His head bowed low and his eyes were shut tight. You caught the way his body shook softly with quiet sobs. You stilled, not daring to interrupt this stolen vulnerable moment.

After another minute, he abruptly stood up, drying his tears before cursing loudly while kicking the chair he was sitting in. You were suddenly hesitant to approach him and decided to turn around and leave, but before you took one step, his voice reached your ears.

“Whaddaya doin' here?”

You took a deep breath before turning back around and walking up to him, your water bottle hanging from your hand. “I- uhm, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Merle, and-”

“Ya don' even like 'im,” he snapped defensively.

“No, I don't,” you confirmed, “but I like you, and he's your brother. Even if my brother would annoy the shit out of me before, I loved him, and... I'm sorry you're going through this, Daryl,” you took a few steps closer, eyes on the ground as you spoke before meeting his.

His gaze remained on yours, before studying your face, finding nothing but the truth.

He frowned deeper, angrily huffing out a breath before turning away from you to rant. “He's jus' so fuckin' stupid. Nobody can fuckin' stand him an' he can't keep 'is fuckin' mouth shut!” he yelled, pacing from left to right, hands dancing through the air practically independently, punctuating his words.

“Why he gotta be such a fuckin' pain in the ass? Not even when we gotta surv-” mid-sentence, your hands found his cheeks, and with utter sweetness your lips impulsively found his, silencing his words.

He stilled, hands slowly dropping to his sides, body completely tense.

You quickly pulled away, opening your eyes to find his eyes slightly wide and totally confused. Your hands left his face and you took a step back. Your eyes awkwardly looking anywhere but at him. “Fuck, Daryl, I'm so sorry,” you started, a knot of anxiety growing in your chest. “I don't know why I did that... well, I know why, 'cause I like you, but I shouldn't have, I'm- I'm so sorry, really.”

Your rambling was interrupted by his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to connect his lips with yours. This time he was more relaxed, and the kiss was slower. His hands slid down to gently grab your hips, pressing his body to yours.

Your arms snaked around his neck, dropping your water bottle, and allowing your lips to part when his tongue requested entrance. Exploring the taste of each other, time stilled for a moment, but you loved it. The kiss grew almost desperate and the grip on your hips got stronger.

Unhappy to pull away, but needing to do so to breathe, you found yourself gasping as his lips left yours. You smiled brightly, cheeks rosy, and he smirked while dipping his head. “Also, I brought you water,” you added, grabbing the bottle from the ground, and dusting off the little dirt that stuck to its side before handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he nodded, taking it from your hands before opening it, downing the liquid, and emptying the bottle.

“You're gonna find him,” you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and a quick kiss on his cheek. He smiled and nodded once again, muttering a thank you. You sounded pretty confident as if you knew, which gave him the confidence when he left on the search for his brother later that day.

Everybody screamed as they tried to avoid or fight the walkers emerging from the thick forest. The evening that started so peacefully suddenly turned into the perfect scene of a terrifying horror movie.

Things moved fast and slow at the same time. It was a blur. Tunnel vision, solely focused on surviving and protecting your group, moving on automatic pilot as you dug your machete countless times into the head of those flesh-hungry monsters.

You didn't even notice when it ended, barely feeling a pair of strong hands gripping your shoulders. His voice sounded distant asking if you were okay over and over. But you couldn't answer, you weren't sure if you were okay, the adrenaline didn't let you feel your body.

His loud voice calling your name finally snapped you out of your trance. “What?” You asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Were ya bitten? Are ya alright?” Daryl questioned, nealy manhandling you as he searched and scanned for bites or scratches on your neck, lifting the sleeves of your flannel to make sure the skin of your arms was intanct.

“I didn't get bit or anything,” you shook your head, still a bit gone.

Cupping your face to study your eyes, he quickly pulled you into his arms, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt finally safe now. You wrapped your arms around his torso, closing your eyes and hiding your face in his neck.

After everyone agreed to get some rest and leave the cleaning for the morning, Daryl offered to stay in your tent with you that night.

He helped you into your pajamas, and you cuddled for a bit as he told you what happened in Atlanta. Then you simply lay in silence. You played with his fingers and he watched you adoringly, rubbing soothing circles on your back with his free hand.

You looked up to find his eyes on yours. Gently he cupped your chin, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. Your hand went up to cup half of his face, returning the kiss with equal passion. It was almost needy but slow. It was like he needed the confirmation that you were both here and okay.

Tongues met in a slow dance, and his hands reached down to cup your ass, easily moving you to lay on top of him. You couldn't help but moan as your body completely pressed against his, but it also made you want to feel more.

His hands slid under your shirt, and you broke the kiss in need of oxygen, immediately latching your lips onto his neck, sucking and kissing. He hummed in satisfaction, which was all the confirmation you needed to keep going, but he stopped after a few moments, pulling his hands out of your shirt, and cupping your face again for you to look at him.

“You sure 'bout this?” he asked, his face stern as he waited for your answer.

You nodded hastily, licking your lips. “Yeah. Are you?”

“'M sure,” he said without hesitation, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him. “Need ta feel ya,” he whispered in a husky voice, sending a shiver down your spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

His hands caressed the dip of your waist up and down under your shirt as you made out. You buckled your hips up unintentionally but did it again on purpose when you heard him moan into your mouth.

You were straight-up grinding into his hips before he pulled away from your mouth, “not yet, doll,” he whispered as he took your shirt off. His hands went to your breasts like magnets, kneading and massaging the curves shamelessly as he peppered your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that trailed down to pop a tit inside his mouth.

Your clothed cunt clenched on air, as you closed your eyes and moaned, enjoying the attention, and you could feel his excitement tenting in his pants as well.

He slowly shifted the position, you back now on the mattress. After he decided both tits had been given enough attention, albeit still reluctant, his mouth trailed lower and lower, hands smoothly pulling your shorts and panties at the same time as his tongue and mouth kissed and licked the skin of your stomach.

His eyes met yours as he kissed your thighs, silently asking for permission to go further. “Please,” you whispered, surprising yourself by how needy you sounded, but then again, you did feel like you needed him right now.

He wasted no time, and in less than a second his mouth was latched to your clit. Tongue swirling on it and sucking, making you gasp. He used his whole face, pushing himself deeper and moving side to side as his tongue flicked over your sensitive pearl quickly. Hungrily. You arched your back involuntarily, fingers finding his hair to pull while simultaneously pulling him closer.

With a hand on your hip, he sucked a few more times before he licked a strip down to your entrance where his tongue began to fuck you. His thumb replaced his mouth on your clit, rubbing at the same speed as his tongue went in and out of you. You moaned and whimpered and cursed, trying to keep quiet, being apparently unsuccessful.

“Quiet, sunshine,” he whispered, his free hand reaching up to make you suck on two fingers to silence you, and you happily obliged. Your legs wrapped around his head as he continued his ministrations, the familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“Fuck, Daryl, I- wait,” your back arched further, legs pulling him closer, contradicting your plead as he moved faster and faster, changing again to suck on your clit and fuck you with his fingers. He hummed and the vibrations brought you closer. “So close.”

Your pitch was higher and higher, the knot tighter and tighter. All it took was a final, flick and suck of his tongue, feeling him moan against your cunt before pushing you over the edge into a shattering climax. The free hand covered your mouth as the other slowed down, prolonging your pleasure until your body relaxed and you came down from your high.

“Fuck,” you looked at him with hazy eyes.

“Fuck,” he said as a confirmation, looking down to see a damp spot on his sweatpants.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him into a kiss. He gladly kissed you back as you slid your hands under his shirt, trying to pull it up, but he stopped you, grabbing your wrist.

“I-” he started, looking away from your eyes and knawing on his bottom lip. “I have- I....”

“You don't have to take it off, it's okay.”

“No, I wan' ta, jus'” he sighed, slowly taking the shirt off. He was thankful his back was away from you. At least you wouldn't have to see those yet. “My dad... was a drunk,” he reached to touch, kind of trying to hide, one of the scars on his shoulders, but you gently pushed his hand away, tracing the scar with your fingertips before looking up at him. You smiled and kissed him shortly, before kissing the scars on his shoulders.

“You're so strong,” you whispered.

His heart was beating fast but in a good way. His lips found yours again as he settled himself between your legs. Your now-familiar mouths found a rhythm as he started to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.

His erection hit your thighs making you pull away. You bit your bottom lip at the sight; he was thick, and the size was a bit on the bigger side. “All for you, baby,” he whispered, as he pumped himself a couple of times.

He rubbed the tip on your clit and entrance, spreading your and his juices all over your cunt again. “Ya ready?” he asked, slapping your cunt with his dick gently. You nodded. “Nah, need ya to speak up.”

“Please, Dar, I'm ready. I need you.”

He hummed in satisfaction, leaning to prop himself up with his forearms around your head, kissing your cheek, before slowly pushing into you. You moaned and he groaned. You were wet and ready enough, so the stretch felt like pure bliss for both of you.

He grabbed both your hands with one of his and pinned them above your head, starting to move when you wrapped your legs around his hips. “Feel so good, doll.”

He started slow, savoring the moment but also nervous to hurt you. But soon, he picked up a rhythm and started moving faster. Your boobs bounced beneath him as he kissed and worshipped your neck and breasts. You felt so deliciously full as he thrust up into your tight, dripping heat, moaning and whimpering underneath him.

He was in heaven, eyes inevitably closed as he made love to you, but he wanted to keep them open to look at you. To him, you looked like a work of art just like that.

“Harder,” you breathed, and he obliged. Your skin met over and over and the sounds filled your tent. He grunted, reaching down to rub on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. “Oh, right there,” your voice was getting higher, letting him know you were close. “Don't stop, fuck, please, don't stop.”

“I won', baby. I gotcha,” he moaned. His thrusts became more and more urgent, each one hitting that sweet spot that made your body arch and your toes curl. If your hands weren't inside his gasp you'd be grasping the sheet beneath you. With one last flick of your clit, you shattered.

His mouth claimed yours to silence your cries of pleasure. Pure ecstasy filled your body, and prolonging your high, Daryl continued moving inside you, until he, too, reached his peak, quickly pulling out and releasing himself on your stomach.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed next to you, who was in the same state as him. Your body tingled with the remnants of your passion, and you couldn't help the smile on your face as he kissed your face lazily.

Your eyelids were too heavy to notice when he pulled a little rag from somewhere and cleaned you up, then you felt him put your clothes on again, and his too. All too relaxed, you nestled into his embrace as he pulled you into his arms, both falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #twd #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

WAIT IS IT ABOUT THE ARCTIC EXPEDITION I ONLY KNEW IT WAS GAY

#the terror #kay can i just catch my breath for a second

[aaagustd]

make it cute | jeon jungkook

title: make it cute

pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader

genre/rating: smut, pwp, 18+

summary: if jungkook loans someone money, he expects to be paid with just that. but tonight, he just might make an exception.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: infidelity, swearing, mentions ransoms and everything that comes with that (threats, m*rder, etc), pictures??, consensual g*n play (more like oral but yeah), sloppy bl*wjob/deep throating, consent bc it’s sexy, pet names, degradation, m*sturbation, facial c*m shot, dirty talk, slight power play, obedience kink, hair pulling, face f*cking, unedited, that should be all

release date: march 15th, 2024; 10:55pm est

note: idk why or how i came up with this trash lol. i was bored and wanted to take a break from writing my other stuff. i hope you enjoy. divider by cafekitsune.

inbox | m.list | join my taglist | read on ao3

“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Jungkook can feel his pants getting tighter with each second he stands there watching you slurp on the barrel of his gun. He’s done some sick shit in his life, but this—this was your idea.

“You’re deadass enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

He can tell by how you’re rubbing your clit and pinching your stiff nipples.

“M-Mhm,” you choke out a moan as you devour the cold steel buried in your throat.

He can’t lie and say he isn’t impressed, or turned on. But this is strictly business. Your darling husband owes him a lot of money, and he’s going to pay it if he wants his little trophy home by dinner.

Otherwise, he’d be glad to keep you here in his bedroom.

With an ass like yours, Jungkook wouldn’t let you out of his sight if you were his. You’d be on his lap no matter the time or the place. You don’t let this kind of pussy off the leash in this world. This guy’s an idiot.

He can only imagine what those soft lips would look like wrapped around his dick. He’s twitching at the thought of it.

As if you are reading his mind, your hand leaves your soaking wet panties, and you place it directly on his Armani-covered crotch. A hiss pushes through his clenched teeth, biting back the urge to curse at you for your carelessness. 

Your mouth filled to capacity, but he knows what you’re asking for. 

“Hey!”

Jungkook isn’t a gentle man, but he’s careful to not snap your neck when he grips your hair and pulls your head back—removing your bruised lips from his gun. Your lungs suddenly become filled with air, leaving you desperate to catch your breath. Your coughs nearly drown out the sound of his own voice.

“Look at me,” he orders, and those blown out watery eyes find his face instantly.

Sexy and obedient. Yeah, he definitely has a problem on his hands.

“Are you sure this is what you want? I just want my money—”

“Fuck my throat.”

“Pardon?”

He heard you. Even though your voice is rough and hoarse, he didn’t miss a beat. He’s just stunned.

“My throat…Shove it down my throat, please.”

Please. 

You didn’t have to add that part. He was already getting ready to take his dick out.

“Well, shit.”

Jungkook quickly places his gun on the dresser and starts unbuckling his pants. He steals glances at you waiting patiently on your knees like a good little slut. The sight has him fidgeting like a virgin.

Once he frees himself from the confinement of his trousers, his dick springs out and reveals itself to your expecting eyes. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you gawk over his size. Whatever you were expecting, he’s exceeded that.

“Bit off more than you can chew, huh?”

You seem offended by his assumption. The look you give him says exactly that.

“Not at all,” you reply, adjusting yourself to align with his midsection. “May I?”

He grants you permission to touch, and you waste no time wrapping your smooth hand around him. You stroke it as you marvel over the raised veins that climb up to the reddened tip, licking your lips like you’re sitting before a feast.

“Don’t fuck around, kay? I still got a bullet with your name on it, princess.”

You heed his warning and move closer, sizing him up to see how much you can actually fit in your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whisper, and he shudders.

That manners might get you on the winning team; if you play your cards right. 

“No sweat, beautiful. Keep going.”

It’s probably the first time he’s said something that sincere, but honestly, he’s just trying to get gobbled up before he cums all over his freshly waxed floors. His men are probably wondering what the hell is taking so long. For all they know, you had to go to the bathroom.

Jungkook almost yells out when warm wetness surrounds his throbbing dick like a compress. His mind struggles to comprehend what to do. He isn’t sure if he should just let you take over, but he’s not able to thrust even if he wanted to. He can’t move. The way you’re slurping him up, he might even be able to walk after this.

“Easy,” he warns.

You look at him and raise your eyebrow, finally displaying a hint of cockiness. 

Jungkook pulls himself together and finds his bearings because there isn’t a chance in hell he’s going to boost your ego anymore than he already has.

“Fine,” he grunts. “You wanna play rough, I’ll teach you.”

His hands venture to the back of your head, giving him full control of your intake. Your eyes stay glued to him as he harshly uses his grip to push your mouth into his swift thrusts. You begin to gag and choke, dripping spit all over his dick and the floor—but he doesn’t mind.

It’s not like he has to clean it up.

“Goddamn. Who’s training this throat, hm?” He buries himself in your throat, making your face collide with his crotch. “Your hubby?”

When he hears your gurgled reply he pulls away and allows you to speak. Through your panting, you give him a solid response. One he’s sure you’ve never shared with your husband.

“I’ll suck him dry every night before I let him cum in me.”

Jungkook nods. “Smart woman.”

But he doesn’t give a shit what you do with that pretty pussy. Right now, your services are needed elsewhere.

“Come here.”

Hopefully, you were able to take a breath because Jungkook’s dick can’t hold back anymore.

You two had a deal, and he’s going to uphold his part as you did yours. You complied, now it’s time to send your sweet husband some face shots so he knows Jungkook isn’t fucking around. It’s been a month since the funds were due. 

It’s time to pay up. One way, or another.

“Fuck!”

He curses each time his cock hits the back of your throat, suddenly feeling his muscles tense up from the pressure building inside. The sweat building up on his forehead slowly starts to roll down his face, but he’s too occupied to wipe it off. 

Your warmth has him hunched over and leaning on his toes, his mouth in an O-shape as he comes closer to release. While he’s pulling in and out of you, he catches a glimpse of your juicy cunt being filled with your fingers, your body squirming and seeking the same relief he’s chasing.

Both of your moans fill the room as you reach the peak of your highs. Your eyes roll back as your body stiffens. Jungkook knows exactly what’s going on with you, and as you’re riding out the waves of your orgasm, he waits for the perfect moment to pull out and paint you with his seed.

The time comes when you’re no longer able to control your breathing, and you’re desperately looking for air after you’ve finally come down. It’s not a second too soon because Jungkook cannot bear another dive into your wet mouth. 

He removes his dick and gives it a couple of quick strokes before his cum begins to squirt all over your pretty face. You sigh delightfully as he covers you with a warm blanket of his cum.

It’s everywhere, but he kept his promise and didn’t get any in your hair.

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, still out of breath.

“I am.”

Jungkook slips his phone out of his back pocket and finds his camera. He positions it in front of your face, and he’s amused by your exhausted smile.

“Is my hair okay?” you ask him, and this time he actually has to chuckle.

Since you’ve made his night a little better, he does a quick job smoothing down flyaways and kinks. Honestly, he didn’t have to because you look hot already. Hair messy, tits out, with his kids all over your face and the expensive diamond necklace your husband bought you.

He can’t think of a more perfect image.

You pose provocatively as he takes a few pictures, and when he’s done, he finally guides you to the bathroom. He instructed you to take your time and take as long as you need to freshen up while he sits on the bed to make this official.

He opens his messages and finds the contact he’s searching for within a minute. A mischievous grin slowly begins to form on his face as he taps the latest images in his camera roll, sending his debtor a little message to stir the pot.

03:14 am Sent: img.788, img.789….

03:14 am Sent: at the spot fucking your bitch. bring my money and i might let you borrow her again.

He’s lying. You’re staying right here, or you can join your husband in the little bed his men made for him.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #aaagustd.fics

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 

No. “Thanks.” 

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 

“Hi.” 

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 

“What about Steve.” 

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 

“He… He’s hurt.” 

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 

People don’t just die. 

They don’t. 

He’s fine. 

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 

He needs a smoke. 

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 

It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 

“Eddie?” 

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 

It’s so fucking surreal. 

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 

And silence reigns. 

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 

Tell me about your favourite person. 

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 

“Why’d you call me?” 

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 

“What, the ice cream parlour?” 

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 

“He saved your life?” 

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 

“In the fire? Were you there?” 

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 

It is, isn’t it? 

You’re so blue, Stevie. 

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice. 

Yeah. Yeah, he is. 

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #who did this to you #something has Shifted in this part and i wanna do a literary/meta analysis of it but i dont wanna ruin the fun or be annoying but hhh #also sorry if you don't like this bc it's so different from the other two but the sudden adrenaline crash will do that to ya #we'll get Blue back soon don't you worry 🤍 #also eddie's mind is running in circles and he doesn't have wayne to stop him this time sooo if this feels repetitive and redundant??? #then let's pretend it should read that way actually (and also eddie is an obsessive little guy he'll ruminate forever if he doesn't have #an outlet sooo) #also rambling fumbly robin going deadly still over an injured steve is the hill i will die on actually like that just makes me feral #dio words

[rafeysdoll]

what arguing with rafe cameron is like.. ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

authors note: request found here, i actually wrote this awhile ago and thought it was perfect for this!

warnings: established relationship

“rafe!” you whine, the tears collecting in your lashline. “are you even listening to me?” you yell out, stomping your foot against the floor when he just rolls his eyes, he was hardly paying attention which only ceased to upset you more. you think to yourself, ‘who could blame you?’ he was just so mean. it was too much for your brain as well as to your sensitive heart.

“what do you want me to say? huh?” he grumbles, he's trying to control himself from just up and leaving back to the party downstairs in tannyhill, he really is. he thought the whole thing was ridiculous. you, throwing a tantrum at him because some girl was in your eyes, way too touchy when he was pushing product, saying she didn’t have to touch his hand for the little baggie as long as she did.

but to you it was so much more than two extra seconds. you saw how she always giggled in a corner with her friends when he was around, liking every single post on his instagram expect for the ones with you in them, even commenting little things in most. always lowering her top and pushing up her tits before applying a new coat of lipstick when she was heading his way.

but to him, rafe had decided long ago you were the one for him. you were the one that he was going to take care of, the one he was going to love and pump full of cameron babies so that one day you could be his little housewife.

so, what was the big deal?

“can't just.. can't just freak out on me like that, alright? got business shit to take care of and you cannot be latching onto me just because you think some.. some coked up chick is gonna make a move, okay?” he stresses, walking closer to you now.

when you let out a small whimper in response, he freezes just a little, seeing you let your head fall as you look down at your heels, feeling stuck in what to reply because really — you didn't want to argue with him. you hated it more than anything. you wanted to be good for him, you just hated seeing the sight of some random girl cuddling up to him.

rafe sucks in a deep breath and sighs, biting his lip. he wasn't going to continue trying to sweep this under the rug, downplaying it when it was clear that this was important to you. so, he clenches his fist and tongues at his cheek, and starts nodding to himself. ���yeah.. uh. yeah, alright- okay. fine.” he admits, thinking to himself too how he would react if some dude was creeping up in his girls space.

“just want you to understand me rafe," you say softly. the tears that collected in your eyes now freely falling. "i know, i know.. i'm sorry okay? i understand baby.. i do.” he coos, walking closer and sitting you down at the edge of his bed, squatting in front of you.

“hey, hey look at me.” he says while moving his left hand to your cheek, stroking it softly— one of your favorite things rafe did. “im.. i'm sorry, baby. i'm sorry. should've been more.. nice to you.”

you sniffle, leaning your head into his cheek. “oh rafey.. was just.. was just so upset and i took it out on you.. i'm sorry papi, .. am i.. am i bad?” you mewl, mascara dripping down your face. your emotions were really catching up to you. it was all mushing up together, making you feel all overwhelmed.

“no, no baby, you're good. you're good, doll. just take in a few breathes alright? you're fine..” rafe whispers, wiping your tears and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “say it with me doll.. can you do that for me baby?” he speaks softly, smiling at you.

“i'm good. i'm good,” you whisper back, nodding. “there you go baby, just relaxx, doll.” he prompts, dragging out the x's. “we're fine, alright? no chick is gonna steal me away from you, 'kay?” he speaks while pulling strands of your hair behind your ear. “i'll finish up selling and you can cling on my arm ‘till im done. alright, baby?”

“mm, mhm” you mumble with a cheeky smile.

#rafe ౨ৎ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts #outer banks x reader

[masuchu]

ranpo... he's sosooososoooo SO cute, need to sit in his lap and kiss him all over this instant or I'll explode

love, masu. ugh nonnie i agree so much. i just wanna bite his cheeks like mochi grrr

genre. fluff n smut! latter is under the cut :)) warnings listed there too <3 not proofread, there may be mistakes !!

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who expects kisses and love like a petulant child, ever the receiver in a relationship. He leans his body back on his office chair, uncaring about the many people still remaining at the agency, and begs for your attention. Will also resort to poking and pinching!

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who basks in your aroma and pecks, uncaring for your whines of “We have work to do..” and “More?!” . If you stop for any moment— or God forbid attempt to leave his lap, he groans so loudly that you have no choice but to carry on tending to him in fear of provoking Kunikida.

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎 who tastes like the sweetest candy, the sugary goodness transferring when he turns your little smooches into greedy, passionate kisses. “Can you guess what I taste like?~ Nope, wrong! You’ll have to kiss me some more then!”

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who falls asleep in your hold, but knows when you leave him. He has some form of extra terrestrial senses, and his eyes will shoot open if you try to inch away. Deafening, childish whines ensue. “Hey, where are you going! Were you gonna leave me? So heartless! Now kiss me again!!”

warnings. nsfw!!, lazy but mean dom ranpo, riding, pinching, overstimulation, teasing

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who watches intently while you ride him— a lollipop in his mouth, viridescent eyes fixed on your body. His hands wander occasionally, two fingers may come up to pinch your waist or caress your bottom lip, but they usually remain resting at the back of his head.

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who asks you completely unrelated questions whilst you are suffering, trying desperately to keep up the pace he demanded of you. “Steamed & creamed raspberry bun… hmmm. Have you ever tried this, honey? Hey, I asked you a question! Don’t go dumb on me now~”

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎, who’s stamina surprises you immensely. He is completely relentless, horrendously cruel, and almost unfeeling. “Please, Ranpo— It’s t-too much!” Your pleads meet malicious ears, his only response being a violent thrust up— sending your body into a temporary paralysis, and a greedy pout. “You can’t be giving up now? I still have so many snacks to eat, you need to carry on until I’m finished! If you’re good, I’ll reward you~”

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎 who’s sleepy senses make a second appearance, this time in a much more lewd manner. “Keep me warm while I sleep, kay’?” You naïvely conjectured that this would be your chance to finally be able to rest you sore, throbbing cunt and catch your breath. Wrong. Penetrating eyes slash into you as you carefully try to slip his shaft out of you. “Where do you think you’re going, sugar?”

2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #bsd #bungou stray dogs #ranpo edogawa #ranpo bsd #ranpo bungou stray dogs #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo smut #ranpo fluff #bsd fluff #bungou stray dogs fluff #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader

[stevenose]

not the name you say (18+)

day 30/31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: mask

contains: steve x reader; friends to ???; high!steve + high!reader; smoking; pillow humping; mutual masturbation; kissing; perv steve AND perv reader; kinda gross steve

a/n: my favorite one i’ve written methinks <3

“So,” Steve says, thick brows scrunching together, eyes hardly open. “How do you usually get off?”

You laugh. “What?”

“What?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

Steve shrugs, seeming a little confused with why you’re so confused. He makes grabby hands towards the joint between your index finger and middle finger. “Gimme.”

You take another inhale and ash it before handing it off to him. “I think you’ve had enough.”

He frowns and furrows his brows again. “Why?”

“You’re starting to get perverted.”

He scoffs, then takes a deep inhale. You take a moment to soak him in. Wrinkled dark green shirt, a pair of sweatpants. White socks. His hair is messy in his face and yet it still looks like it’s been styled that way. The tip of his broad, straight nose lights up with the ash from the joint as he breathes in. The smoke he exhales acts as a mask, shrouding his features.

“I’m not perverted,” he says. “I’ll tell you how I do it if it’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel like you don’t have many options.” You watch the ash on the joint get longer and the paper become shorter, closing in on Steve’s fingers. You’re careful to watch to make sure he doesn’t get burned, but you forget why you’re staring after a few seconds.

“That’s not true,” he insists, ashing the joint out on his bedroom carpet. “I have tons of options. We could use our hand, or we can use our hand with lotion, or we can use one of those toys that looks like a pussy -“ he giggles, eyes squirting further. “We can hump a pillow, we can hump the bathtub -“

“You’re insane,” you laugh, reaching for the joint. You take one more drag before putting it out on the green ashtray on Steve’s desk. “You ever tried that?”

“Not the bathtub, but I’ve gotten off on my pillow before.”

You blink slow, shocked. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” He takes out a lighter and starts playing with it, flicking his wrist over the flame quickly to not burn his fingers. You grab it from him and place it beside the ashtray.

“Please don’t tell me I’ve used the pillow in question.”

“Oh, no,” he assures. “I keep it in my closet.”

Then he’s up and stumbling towards the closet, pulling the door open and disappearing for half a second before reappearing with the article in question. You stare. It looks like a normal pillow. White pillowcase, no obvious staining. You scrunch your nose. “Ew, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Have you ever tried it?”

“No!”

“You should!” he says. “Here, let me show you.”

“What?” you laugh, your face heating up. “You can’t -“

“No no no no no,” he waves you off, getting onto his bed. “I’m just gonna show you how, I’m not gonna - like, fuck it.” He folds the goddamn thing in half, then mounts it. “You just kinda do that, and then rub yourself on it. Grind on it, you know? You really should try it.”

Your curiosity gets the better of you. “Is that how you normally get off?”

“Not telling! I asked you first!”

“I don’t know! I - I have a few options, too, okay?”

“Try this,” Steve says, and he grabs another pillow on his bed, a clean one. He beckons you over with his head and hand. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“That’s fucked up,” you say, and you don’t totally believe it. Or maybe you do and you’re just trying to ignore it. “Isn’t that like fucking?”

Those brows furrow again. “No? I’m not even gonna touch you.”

You’re sore between the legs, anyway, and high, so you get up and stumble onto his bed. You’re wearing black cotton shorts, so you can feel the plushness between your legs rather well. With the pillow folded in half, you climb onto it, bursting into laughter once you do.

“This is so weird.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Don’t knock it til you try it, ‘kay?”

“‘kay.”

“Now grind down on it. Let it catch on you.”

Experimentally, you do so, and it does feel good. It feels just about as good as your palm rubbing against you. It’s dull and not targeted but still enjoyable. And with how sensitive you get while high, it feels pretty alright.

“Like that,” he praises. His hips aren’t moving. He’s simply instructing. “Don’t be afraid of it, you can use it.”

“What do you think about when you do this?” you ask, continuing to grind. Watching Steve is stirring something in you even if he’s just sitting innocently.

“Specifically?”

“Well, like, do you think about fucking someone?”

“I always think about fucking someone.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I think about fucking someone, or their tits,” he clarifies, hands gripping on to the edge of his pillow. “It’s not as wet but if I’m high enough it can work.”

Your breath catches at the idea - of him jerking off, and of him fucking you. You grind down a little harder, not really thinking about it. “Who do you think about?”

He stares at you for a really long time, though it’s probably only a few short seconds. His auburn eyes seem lost in thought, contemplative. “You know,” he finally says. “People that come into work or whatever.”

“Oh,” you say, a little disheartened. “So… what exactly do you think about? How do you make it work?”

You watch Steve’s adam’s apple bob while he swallows. “I guess I usually think of it doggystyle, but sometimes I think of it missionary. And I imagine I’m fucking something soft and wet. Gripping someone’s skin.” His hips start to move now, gentle and slow. His eyes focus in on your own movements. “And I think about what I would say.”

“Do you say it out loud?”

“I hope not,” he says, but his tone isn’t entirely lighthearted. His mouth is agape, pupils blown, staring where you meet the pillow. “But I think about it. Like, I usually tell ‘em how beautiful they are ‘n how good they feel.”

You grind down a little harshly. “You like praise?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “I like being praised, too.”

“Like what?” you ask, voice growing softer. There’s a familiar build up in your lower stomach starting to form. “Do you like being called good boy or -?”

Steve moans, lightly, his hips grinding harsher into his pillow. “Jesus, you can’t just say it -“

“Why does it matter if I say it?” you rush out. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

And now, it seems, like formality is gone. The line between friendship and something else has been erased.

“Yes,” he moans, fucking his hips into the pillow rough and quick. “I think about it sometimes.”

Your face is alight. “Yeah? What else?”

“Fucking you,” he answers. His smooth voice cracks. “How good you’d feel and sound.”

“You’re so fucked up,” you scold, getting off on it. “Do you usually have pants on?”

“N-no-“

“Take them off.”

“Maybe after you answer my question.”

You swallow harshly, stomach twisting tightly. “I think about how m-much your cock would stretch me out.”

He grins wide. “That wasn’t my question.”

“What - what was it, then?”

“How do you get off?” One of his thumbs tucks into the waistband of his sweats. A wet patch forms on the front of them.

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

“Although I think I like this question more.” His thumb pulls down his sweatpants just slightly. You can see his happy trail, how his tan skin turns a little paler behind them. Your mouth waters. It’s only a quick glance, though, because he lets his waistband snap back into place with a smug grin. “Tell me more and I’ll get myself out.”

“Want you to eat me out.” If you were sober you’d be shocked at how easily you let that information go.

“That’s good,” he nods, panting a little. He stops his hips for just a moment to pull his pants down and off. “Get closer.”

You and your - his - pillow slide in so that you’re facing him, noses nearly touching, the edges of your pillows meeting in the middle. “You can’t touch me,” you say, “we’re - we’ll regret that.”

“I know. Just wanna be closer t’you, ‘s all.”

You’d do anything to kiss him right now. You have no brain telling you to not. Only instinct - that this will fuck things up. That you’ll regret it in the morning. And you like Steve way too much to sacrifice that. Instead, your nose presses against his, and you rub them together.

“You’re doin’ so good,” he groans. “Feeling close?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. A particularly well placed thrust makes you keen and you instinctively reach out for Steve to hold you steady. Your nails dig into his biceps but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“There you go,” he praises, “Keep doin’ it like that, baby, gonna cream on my fuckin’ pillow in no time.”

“I wanna kiss you,” you blurt out, overwhelmed by it, your previous inclination fleeing.

Steve leans forward and catches your lips in his, but he keeps his hands strictly to himself. He’s a hell of a kisser, adding teeth only where necessary and using little licks to get you closer to your orgasm. You moan and bite down on his bottom lip and tug it. “Mmm, fuck, Steve….”

“I know, I know,” he shushes, panting, starting to sweat at his hairline. “‘s okay, it feels good, huh?”

Now your eyes wander down to his cock. You’ve never seen it before and at this moment you don’t know why he was hiding it from you. Or how he hid it from you. He’s giant, sure to split you or your mouth open. But so pretty, too. A little bead of clear precum disappears into the cotton of his pillowcase.

“You like it?” he grunts.

You look back up, noses bumping, and nod. “Your cock’s so pretty, Steve.”

He moans and throws his head back slowly, and you take the opportunity to lean forward and kiss his neck. He groans now, his hands gripping his pillow lest he reach out and embrace you.

“So fat and big,” you mumble, “you’d make me gape.”

And then, for reasons unknown, you look down and spit on his cock. Steve gasps, a thousand emotions flicking across his handsome, flushed face at once before he reaches out and pulls you in. He kisses you fiercely, hungrily. “I’m gonna fucking cum,” he moans messily against your lips.

“M-me too,” you whisper, reaching up to grip his hair and tug. His eyes roll back. “Come on, wanna see what it looks like when you cum thinkin’ ‘bout me.”

Steve’s so pretty. Truly. His neck and body stiffen and his eyes clench shut. He lets out a few high pitched gasps and moans before he cums. You’re caught between looking at his face and his cock, his cum shooting onto the pillow below him and onto yours. The sight makes you cum, gripping onto him and kissing him messily as you do.

“There y’go,” he mumbles, holding you. “Told you it’d feel good.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #august23

[popponn]

something about headaches. [floyd leech x reader]

note: i miss twst. and this eel. so i make a quick thing in one sitting without much thought. i just miss floyd and kind of want to write something healing for myself. also: prefect!gn!reader and concussion is there.

“Sensei!” Floyd Leech exclaimed with cheer in his voice, meanwhile you hung limply in his arms like a dying mandrake. “Shrimpy hit their head again! I’m taking them to the nurse, ‘kay?”

From the distance, Coach Vargas answered him with something you couldn’t understand. Your head throbbed and you groaned. The possibility of someone putting a curse on your face to attract wild, fast flying things suddenly became something more than Deuce’s random musings.

You began to consider actually asking Crowley for check up—but not before you had your whole body shaken up with a loud “Yay!” resounding from above you.

As Floyd started running and turned you into a sack of flour on his shoulder, you started praying to whichever astral beings still had pity left to spare for you. Faintly, you could hear your upperclassmen chirping happily about getting to run around with you and such. Your head was buzzing loudly, but you managed to catch some of them.

“How lucky! Where should we go, Shrimpy?” Floyd said and you wished you could laughed like always whilst ushering him into the nurse office.

“This is fun!” Floyd said and you wished you could agree. Perhaps, on another time, without concussion slowly draining on you.

“Senpai, I will die. For real. Slow down. Please,” you, finally feeling like you might die for real, chocked out as you hit Floyd’s back lightly.

Then, the eel suddenly drew to a stop. The loose, strong hand he had around your waist grew firmer and you wondered if you will get squeezed or thrown out of the second floor balcony there and then. “Eh, why?” Floyd’s voice took a dip in the exact manner whenever he started losing interest.

At this point, best case scenario would be him putting you down and leaving.

Nonetheless, you tried to answer him. “’M head hurts. A lot,” you worded out choppily. Breathing was getting harder. Perhaps you really were dying. Good Seven—overblots and monsters and what got you was a fucking flying disk—

“Head hurts, huh…?” Floyd parroted and maybe you spoke to fast and it would be an eel that got you, actually. “What did Jade said again…? Oh!”

“…hu—uuh!?”

Within a second, suddenly you got manhandled for the second time to the point of getting a bit of your spirit returning again. It took you another three seconds, however, to realize that your position had changed into being carried like a bride in your senior’s hands, who opted to walk slowly at that moment.

“That’s a funny sound, Shrimpy. Make more of it later,” Floyd commented, a wide smile hovering right above you along with his voice that had turned into a whisper. “Is this better? Jade said loud voice and getting hanged upside down make your head hurt lots. And I don’t like walking fast when my head hurts too. Feels better now, right?”

You blinked, trying to register the fact that instead of getting thrown away like a nosy mangy cat, Floyd acted like a straight out sweetheart. Your heart made a weird beat that you couldn’t process yet, but you managed a weak nod for him.

“He he,” Floyd’s smile grew wider. This was stupid, however you did felt that being hit in the head was not that bad, maybe.

“Can I pat your head?” you blurted out, your head growing heavier with each second. Along with it, perhaps, your logic was also drowning.

Without your blurry eyes catching them, Floyd’s expression wrote his amusement clear in his face. “Eh, Shrimpy sure asks a lot for a patient,” he chided childishly. Then, he lowered his head slightly to you without stopping his steps, “Here you go. Pat it, pat it.”

You chuckled breathlessly and softly as your fingers touched his head, “Thank you, Floyd-senpai. I will treat you to something later.”

“Aha—treats from Shrimpy?” Floyd cheered in a tone that hid something behind it. You should have paid more attention to it, but as you leaned your head against his chest, you decided you would just do it later. “Lucky! Get well soon then, ‘kay, Shrimpy?”

#twst fluff #disney twst #twst imagines #twst #twst floyd #floyd leech #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #floyd fluff #drabbles #floyd is actually trying his best here. but he is floyd #twst really has a soft spot in my heart idk why #disney twisted wonderland

[itsgrimeytime]

When you love him... || Rick Grimes (TWD)

When he loves you (sequel)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

It was a rough day. A really rough day, you had constant nightmares -screaming faces of your family, jaws thrashing and running. Running until the breaths in your lungs burned and sweat dripped down your brow, you were running-

You woke up with a scream on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of-

"Hey," he hummed, groggy but forceful, "-hey, darlin', wake up-"

You came to almost immediately, the pounding, the screaming, the blood- it all went silent, only a mere ache in the back of your head now. When your vision cleared, you saw Rick -leaning over you, hands on your arms, gently shaking you awake.

"Hey," he spoke softly, a gentle whisper, "-hey, There ya are."

"Did I-"

"Light sleeper," he whispered, his drawl low and growly, "-'Heard ya shufflin' around."

Your cells were pretty close, maybe two off from each other but you were still surprised that he heard you from there. Were you loud? Were you screaming? You didn't want to wake-

"I cut you off from a scream," he seemed to read into your silence, "-No one else is awake, 'promise."

"Okay," you spoke, shakily, and, with his hand, he guided you up, "-okay."

His hand stayed there, on the small of your back -rubbing up and down with the gentle push of your breaths. You felt safe then, with his hand there, with him-

You pushed away the thought.

"Do ya wanna talk 'bout it?" He echoed, accent strong from the buzz of sleep in his voice.

"Just-" you started, deflecting, "-Just the same things everyone deals with."

"Just 'cause everyone deals with it," he spoke, more authoritatively -like you'd seen around the prison, "-don't mean it ain't important."

"My family," you relented, something catching in your throat -you hadn't told anybody, "-I watched them... Right in front of me, I was... I was so helpless."

You weren't built for an apocalypse, you knew that the second it started. When you'd come across the farm, you'd never even held a gun nevertheless used one. They had to train you, keep you practicing and make you confident-

You were used to it now, a familiar weight in your hand. Even when you used something else, it was okay, you knew it -you were getting used to this life.

You didn't know whether to sob or celebrate.

"You ain't helpless now," he spoke, hand finding its place on your shoulder -grounding, "-and I know it hurts but you can't change it. You just gotta... keep on movin' for 'em."

"I didn't think I'd make it this far," you confessed wiping at your tears -looking anywhere but at him, "-can you believe that? I thought... After my parents, my family, I thought I would go out just like them. Scared and afraid-"

"You didn't," he consoled, turning your face to face his own -your skin tingled under his fingertips, "-You won't. You survived. You are survivin', they'd want you to survive."

"Yeah, I know," you hummed, brought back to earth, "-I know."

"Plus," he clarified, looking straight into your eyes, "-you ain't alone anymore, alright? So don't, don't think like 'at."

"Okay," you exhaled, your breath a little more stable -he'd brought you down. The heaviness in your shoulders lifted, and something in you shifted -looking at him.

"'Kay," he started, hand rubbing your shoulder one last time -it left an ache in its wake, "-get some sleep, 'be good for ya."

"You too," you whispered, watching as he left -something building up in your chest, a little twinkle. An overwhelming feeling of... of wanting him to stay.

He has a pregnant wife, your brain dinged as you laid back down to sleep -head heavy and eyes exhausted but the thought kept you up.

You didn't sleep a wink.

#rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #stuff n' thangs #twd blurb #rick grimes blurb #its griming time #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #twd oneshot

[beargyuuzz]

12:02 CSB

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Established relationship, dom Soobin x sub reader, bad language, use of slut and whore, pet names, choking, unprotected sex (don’t be y/n please), hair pulling, biting, overstimulation

WC: 578

Soobin X Fem!Reader

Smut under the cut

You let out a desperate whimper, eyes screwing shut as your lover tightens his grip on your throat. Your eyes roll back, nails digging into his firm bicep. Soobin chuckles, moving his lips to your ear.

“What? Can’t my little whore take it? You wanted to be a fucking brat in front of my friends, so I think you can handle what I give you.” His hips pick up their brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping falling deaf to your ears as you cry out for more. “Please- fuck! Soobin!” You scream out, his hands moving to your hair for leverage as you feel his tip kiss your sweet spot. You choke out a pleading breath, meeting his eyes to see that familiar darkness in them. Fuck, you loved riling him up.

A sudden gasp leaves you as his fingers find your swollen bud, drawing tight circles over it. Your hips jerk, trying to move away from the overstimulation as Soobin simply tuts and holds you in place. “Now, now… don’t try escaping this, bunny.” His tone is teasing, your head nodding up and down as you feel sweat clamming up your skin.

His lips move to your breasts, capturing one of your nipples as he bites down gently. The groan you let out is near feral, his hips moving harder against your own the moment the sound hits his ears. He could feel himself getting closer, his cock throbbing as he rolls his hips a bit too hard into you. Your moans were like music to him, making his head spin as he shifts the two of you and grabs you by the hips.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how bad you want to cum. Tell me how badly you want me to fill your pretty cunt up.” Soobin’s voice breaks at the end, telling you how close he was getting. You pant out incoherent phrases, failing to get any more words out. Soobin chuckles, shaking his head as one hand moves to your jaw. “Use your words, slut…” he changes his angle, fucking into you at a slower pace with deeper strokes as you cry out in protest.

“Please, Soobin! Please- cum with me! P-please I need your cum!” You beg the man on top of you, tears running down your face as his pace quickens once again. His fingers work faster on your clit, making you tighten more and more until you finally snap. Your vision blurs as you cum around his cock, body spasming as he fills you only seconds after.

The two of you struggle to catch your breath, your lover letting himself fall into the bed beside you. Soobin pulls you into his arms, wiping the hair that clings to your face out of the way. “Are you okay, baby?” Comes his gentle voice. You felt like you were floating, your eyes out of focus. You settle for a nod, curling closer to him as he lets out a chuckle.

“How’s that for ‘too much of a softy to do anything’” Soobin uses your earlier words to Kai against you. You let out a whine, swatting his arm playfully. He only laughs, helping you sit up before he passes you the water he had kept on the nightstand.

“Drink that. I’ll go get something to clean us up, okay?” You nod, watching your boyfriend leave with a laugh as you sip the water. You really did find a keeper, didn’t you?

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @myloveforyunho @abby-grace

A/N: Just a short lil thing- it isn’t that good but I hope you guys like it either way!!! Much love, 🪷

#Soobin smut #Choi Soobin #Soobin fic #Soobin fluff #choi soobin fic #Choi Soobin smut #txt fic #txt smut #txt fluff #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fluff

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

All I'm saying

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 3 #din djarin #bo katan kryze #meme #my meme #kay can i just catch my breath for a second #this is because of the trailer and them working together but specifically the part where only she is with grogu #like he would never leave grogu with someone he didn't trust voluntarily #and for goodness' sake the man is aroace let him BE! #i am manifesting canonically aroace din djarin let's GO!! this is the year!! #1k #2k #3k

[flowercrowngods]

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.

“H— Hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself apparently.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over. And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now.

“‘Kay.”

The next second, she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

🤍🌷 sneak peek of who did this to you pt. 3 (part 1 | part 2)

#steddie fic #steddie #who did this to you #i am battling this writers block or so help me!!

[headkiss]

omg peter and reader taking a walk on some little trail and they push one another into leaf piles and being love sick idiots <3

this is so cute!!! tysm for the request <3 i went the pining best friends route rather than established relationship, hope that’s okay! | 0.6k of fluff!

You and Peter have been friends for what feels like forever. He’s in almost every memory you have, as far back as they go. Your childhood best friend, your now best friend, the only boy you’ve ever loved.

Growing up across the hall from each other had its perks. A mother figure in aunt May, someone to walk to school with, a door that was always open for you.

You’ve spent so much time with him that it’s sort of impossible to imagine things any other way. Not that you’d need to.

Late September has a chill seeping into the city. Leaves changing color, hands hidden in jacket pockets, cheeks and noses bitten by cold wind. Fall surrounds you and you don’t mind one bit. Not when Peter’s beside you, too.

He’d come knocking on your door earlier (even though he doesn’t need to knock, as you’ve told him countless times) and asked you to go for a walk with him. Easy, like breathing or blinking, you’d said yes.

It’s nice to have someone to do these things with, to be mundane and quiet without a trace of awkwardness. All of this comfort and you’ve yet to tell him how you feel, how in love you are.

Peter walks close enough to you that your arms brush with every step, jacket against jacket, warmth seeping into your skin every time. When he walks alone, he’s quicker, strides full, earbuds in. With you, he’s learned to match your pace, to slow himself to stay next to you.

“You cold?” Peter asks, even when he’s the one with his cheeks pink from the breeze.

“Mmm, just my hands.” You tilt your head up to the sky, then towards him. “It’s a nice day.”

And it is. Despite the chill, the sun’s shining, the trail you and Peter are taking tucked away enough from the city that it doesn’t feel like you’re in it. Rustling leaves in the wind, fallen ones littering your path, the smell of fall in the air. Your favorite boy as company.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, eyes catching yours. Then, he reaches for the hand closest to him, his fingers curling around yours, and tucks your joined hands into his coat pocket. “There.”

You feel warmer already, his palm against yours, but you try to play it off. “How’s your pocket any warmer than mine?”

“‘Cause your coat’s a joke. I’ve got fleece-lined pockets, ‘kay? Way warmer, honey.”

“Leave it to you to be a nerd, even about a jacket.”

He shrugs innocently, shoulder to a rosy cheek.

Peter takes any excuse he can to be close to you, to touch you, and he knows what that means. He knows he loves you, and he’s not really hiding it. It sinks into everything he does. Walking closer to the road, letting you have the last sip of your shared milkshakes, going to see the latest horror movie with you when he hates the genre.

As much as Peter wants to tell you, he also wants this to work, to fall into place the way he thinks things will. You’ve had your whole lives with each other so far, and there’s the rest of a lifetime to go.

“Did you just call me a nerd?”

“You heard me, Parker.”

“Well, in that case…”

One second you’d been walking beside him, the next, Peter’s pushed you over into a pile of leaves beside the trail. It’s probably the most gentle push ever, but it’s enough to make you trip over your feet.

“Peter,” you groan, dragging out his name. “At least help me up.”

You hold out your hand, laying on your back, leaves probably stuck to your clothes and in your hair. Peter takes it—of course, he does—and with a tug, you’ve got him laying next to you.

“I always fall for that one,” he says, his hand still in yours, shoulders shaking a little with his laughter.

You turn your head to look at him, and he does the same, your noses an inch apart, twin smiles on your faces.

A lifetime to go, Peter thinks.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker reader insert #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fluff #peter blurbs #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm fanfiction #tasm spiderman #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter fic #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter one shot #peter parker request #peter parker requests #peter parker blurb #peter parker blurbs

[arxxq]

"I need you to calm down..just breathe trust me,"

Isagi and Sae with a s/o that talks alot and talks fast whenever they get nervous/ anxious / a panic attack

This is honestly just something i want to do since sometimes i do this whenever i panic or get anxious.

No gender specified, lowercase intended?, mistakes will be corrected soon

It's been a while since I've wrote smth, gah I've been quite busy this year god..

Isagi Yoichi...

Isagi isn't the type to be observant but he took noticed an odd detail from you

he realized every time you get nervous or anxious you would just randomly talk too much and fast

he wasn't really sure of this until one day

when you told him you were going of have some sort of family reunion with a family member

you started to randomly say things so fast

you even change the topic too fast that he couldn't even catch up or understand

isagi wanted to ask you about it but he couldn’t 

he couldn’t find the perfect moment to

he didn’t mind cause it seems like its a way of you trying to cope

but he is very worried 

especially since not alot of people notice this detail of you

since it looked absolutely normal

so now you and isagi were at a family dinner

since well your parent's wanted to meet your boyfriend

the silence was so awkward and you absolutely didn't like it

so you start rambling so quick

isagi also saw how your parent's new this detail of you

"uhm Mrs. and a Mr. l/n, you wouldn't mind if i talk to y/n alone for a while right?" Isagi ask which you looked at him confused. "huh why? i mean i don't mind but why?"

"oh now we don't mind, just don't take too long alright," your mother replied. isagi stood up from his chair in pulled you to somewhere quiet. "what was that for, i mean why do you need to talk to me alone, there's nothing wrong right?"

"dear--"

"is it my parents, are you uncomfortable? i can tell them if you want-" isagi hand were now on your shoulder and you flinvhed. before you could say anything, isagi had cut you off. "dear..i need you to breathe,"

you looked at him confused. you took a deep breathe and let it out just like he said. "great..now just do that for a few more times and when you’re ready then you can speak kay,” 

a few minutes have passed and you looked at him with a smile. “are you feeling much better now?” you let out a breathe and nod. Isagi gave you a peck on the forehead. “if you ever get nervous just make sure you get a few seconds to breathe alright,” 

Itoshi Sae

sae is very observant of you

he knew you more than anyone else did

but there was one thing he always got confused

why you would talk alot and fast from time to time

most of the time he would just end up listening

basically a one sided conversation since he couldn’t catch up with you

but as time goes on sae realized this was a way you try and act as if nothing is wrong

he absolutely does not like it

he doesn’t like it on how you act as if you’re fine when it’s clearly the opposite

you had a competition coming up and sae could tell that you were panicking

especially since you think you’re not good at it

“mi amor?” you flinched when you felt a hand on your shoulders. “oh sae..its just you,” you say smiling. “you looked bothere--” he was cut off immedietaly but it’s not like he wasn’t expecting it. you were anxious and he could tell. 

“me bothered? pftt no m not, i’m fine, i’m totally fine. yeah i can do this, it’ll be so so easy trust me....” you continued to blabber out nonsense. sae knew if he didn’t step in anytime soon, it’ll just make it worse. as you were talking you didn’t expect sae to pull you in an embrace and just stroke your hair. before you managed to speak he had beat you to it. 

“breathe mi amor...i need you to do that right now especially since i don’t like to see you have a breakdown out there,” your head was on sae’s chest, he was breathing slowly so you took this as a hint that sae wanted you to calm down. 

after a few minutes you had calmed down. “look, all i want you to know is that you’ll be great out there i just know it,” 

“so even if you don’t win, you did your best okay and make sure before you start take a deep breathe and let it out once you’re ready,” 

reblogs are highly appreciated 

do not plagiarize my works, nor post on any other platforms w/o my permit

thank you for reading

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳aryssa;hasinah #blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x you #bllk imagines #bllk headcanons #bllk fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #sae x you #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.the works of hasinah

[neonoddeye]

Heart-Stealer | Law x Gn! Reader

A/N: I will be utilizing my all-time favorite trope for this: the “there’s only one bed” trope! Yes, it’s cheesy. No, I do not care. As a side note, I wrote this for an OC I made, but I’m rewriting it bc I know no one would read it if I left it as is.

CONTENT INCLUDES: …sharing a bed (it’s sfw, just cuddling)

“Are you sure this is okay, Law?” You ask with a crack in your voice. “I can always bug the staff for a new room…”

“It’s fine, y/n-ya”, Law replies, “I’d rather us stick together here.”

“Fair enough,” you sigh, moving your gaze up nervously towards the top of the elevator. Maybe if you hadn’t decided to accompany your captain on a trip at the last possible second, the single-bed hotel room issue would’ve been solved. Alas, the two pirates have a long night ahead of them.

I hope Law doesn’t hear my heart pounding against my chest right now…

It was a very nice hotel room; whether Law actually legally rented it or threatened a few lives for it, you didn’t know. It doesn’t matter, either, as you admire the luxury that lies before you. Nice going, captain, you remarks to yourself. Life has been new and exciting since you joined the heart pirates recently; you’d even go as far as to say it’s the best decision you’ve made in life so far. The only downside is that you’ve properly fallen for the sadistic captain, the surgeon of death, the literal heart stealer. It feels like an unspoken rule to not fall for your pirate captain, especially if he’s notorious and stands above most typical pirates. It’s not like you were trying to catch feelings for Law; he’s an anomaly in the way he makes you stop dead in your tracks, unable to move under his gaze as if he’d bound you with sea prism stone. You didn’t realize you had been lost in thought for a little too long until the man of interest interrupts your thoughts.

“You should take a shower first, y/n-ya,” he offers, placing himself on a smooth, leather swivel chair with a book already in hand.

You perk up upon hearing his voice cut the painful silence, sweet honey in your ears. “‘Kay”, you give Law a small smile before collecting your things.

The shower was, to no surprise, heavenly after having to shower in a metal box underwater for some weeks. After taking off your clothing and jewelry, you allow the deliciously hot water and its steam to envelop you and wash the day’s worries away. After stepping out, you change into a black tank top and plaid sleep shorts and gather your toiletries to finish your nightly routine. Placing yourself at a vanity, you turn to Law behind you.

“Shower’s all yours,” you smile, trying not to linger your gaze too long as Law swings his lengthy figure off the desk and carefully places his book down. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you try not to imagine the intimacy of having such a gorgeous man sleep next to you, even if not in a sexual context. To have him close, feel his presence intoxicate you and lull you to sleep like a drug: it’s something you’ve wished upon a star for.

Moments pass as you dry your hair until the bathroom door slides open. revealing Law in just a pair of sweatpants, his signature hat nowhere to be seen, replaced by a wet mop of jet-black hair. For a fleeting moment, you admire the mosaic of tattoos adorning his tanned skin before whipping your head back to focus on your nightly routine, finally placing the hair dryer down beside yourself. You blink a few times, noticing a rosy shade of pink dusting your pale cheeks and eyes wide enough to hold mini hearts. Soon after, you see Law approach you from behind in the mirror, his chest almost grazing your head as he reaches over to unplug the hair dryer, gingerly gathering it to use himself. The faint scent of hotel soap, mild tangerine and white tea float above you and dizzy your already jumbled senses as he walks back to the bathroom. You sit there in mild shock at the tiny gesture, thinking that Law seemed to linger there for a moment longer than needed. No matter what he did, Law was your own personal siren; your one true opponent in a world you once thought you conquered.

After some internal pep talk, you walk over to the bed, propping yourself up on two pillows as you nestle under thin, white blankets with a book in hand. You immediately feel the bed sink, signaling that Law has done the same, presumably with a book covering medicine.

“Uh… what are you reading?” Law cuts into the tension.

“It’s a book on the geography of the new world,” you respond, your nose still in said book (though you’re not entirely paying attention to it, as talking to Law is much more enthralling). “A pirate on the Oro Jackson wrote it. Not an easy find.”

“I can imagine it wasn’t easy. You’re into geography?” Law pries his gaze off his book.

“Not particularly. I just thought the book seemed interesting. Besides, the knowledge could help us.”

“Thanks for the research, but I think we’re good. I trust Bepo as a navigator.” Law gives a ghost of a smile at the last remark, either at the thought of his best friend or the sentiment of you helping him.

“What about you? Another doctor book?” you inquire, scanning the cover of the book in Law’s hands.

“Yeah. This one’s about medicinal herbs, I’m thinking about finding some on the islands we’ll come across.”

“You’re very dedicated to your work,” you compliment your crush with a glimmer in your eyes. Law’s commitment is truly admirable; you adore how intelligent he is.

“I guess,” Law shrugs. He yawns, placing the book on the nightstand beside him. “Mind if I turn the light off? We need to wake up early.”

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, the beating of your heart becoming a little too loud for your liking as the reality of your situation sets in.

Does he feel even a bit the same way that I do right now?

Law reaches over to turn off the lamp next to him, leaving the light of the full moon to creep through sheer curtains, beautifully illuminating his sharp features. Law lies on his back, decorated arms crossed at his stomach, and you mirror him, even if it’s not the way you typically lie down to sleep. Silence passes, both parties secretly not sleeping a wink.

“Does it ever bother you?” You start, letting your words reverberate into the unfamiliar pitch black room. “It seems like the entire world is watching you. You were already a monster rookie to begin with, and now you’re a damn warlord.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, then you hear Law stir a bit. “You could say the same about yourself. You joined my crew, after all.” 

You smirk, turning your head to the side. Though you can’t see him too well, your heart swells at the thought of your face being so close to his. You silently thank the gods that you’re able to see such a handsome man this close, even with his heavy eyes and messy hair.

“I don’t think about it much. I guess it’s because I’ve been scrutinized all my life that it doesn’t bother me. I did this to myself, after all.”

“I assume you have your own reasons for being a warlord, but I won’t pry,” you respond softly.

“You’ll find out eventually. We have to face it all pretty soon,” Law sighs. “It’ll be a lot to handle.” Whatever baggage he has, you can tell it claws at him, even now.

“We’re pirates, Law, we handle tough situations all the time. I’m… happy to go through it for your sake. I mean, for the sake of the crew.” Way to cover that up at the end.

Law smiles, genuinely, at your last remark, though the darkness covers it and he turns his head to the side so you won’t see. He conceals his feelings most of the time, but when he’s truly thankful, it shows. And for you, he is eternally grateful for.

~

The moonlight of the night before is long forgotten as the morning sun engulfs the hotel room, filling your senses just enough to pull you out of slumber. To your surprise, you’re no longer at one edge of the bed, but in the middle, wrapped in Law’s arms as if you never woke up from your dream. Your eyes widen completely, breath hitching in your throat as you feel Law stir awake and see the same shock in his eyes as soon as they open. You both scramble away from each other, mumbled apologies escaping raspy morning voices as you gather yourselves. 

“I uh,” you start, “did not intend on that. I swear.” Shit, he definitely felt my heartbeat.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Law shakes his head awake, trying to understand why it felt so wrong to pry himself away from your warmth. He looks over to see you slightly shivering, clearly at a loss from warmth as well.

He hesitates before his next proposal. “Come here, you’re cold,” he says, extending his arm out. You pause as well, not believing your ears, before slowly bringing yourself back into Law’s chest, his arms gingerly wrapping back around you. You’re both stiff for a few moments, the rhythms of two hearts like taiko drums in the otherwise silent room.

“Is this okay, y/n-ya?” Law whispers into your hair, still stiff against you.

You smile weakly into his skin. “Yeah, it is. Don’t do this for me, though.”

“I’m not.”

Your heart leaps at the confession of Law actually wanting to be this close to you, and your shoulders finally relax into his touch as you allow yourself to relish in his warmth. He follows suit, pulling you a little closer and closing his eyes in serenity. Silence follows again as you both become overwhelmed in the feeling of touch, limbs entangled and gentle grazes of hands on skin sending you both to heaven. It doesn’t take long until you both accidentally succumb to sleep once again, and miss the free breakfast Law had intended to wake up on time for. The extra time together more than makes up for it, though.

#one piece #one piece x reader #law one piece #one piece x y/n #law x you #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law fluff #Addi write something other than slowburn romance challenge failed #loopdelta #anime fanfic #anime

[cookie-crumblr]

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW’s: A SPOILER FOR THE INNOCENT ROUTE(not gonna say what it is XD) Dead dove do not eat, yandere, bully, F!Bimbo reader, reader referred to as she/her, one night stands, p in v, exhibitionism, condom use, creampie, multiple partners(not at the same time),

How F!Bimbo!Reader,

Meets him,

“Uhg, excuse you,” You say, standing tall, with your hands on your hips, even at the man that towers over you.

You were the one to smack into him, straight into his chest in fact.

He grins and pinches the cherry of his cigarette to put it out, before bending over you. His forearm is above you against the wall, his loose fist boxing you in. You don’t relent.

He snorts, bringing his other hand to your chin. “Think you’re a tough slut huh?”

You roll your eyes and push his arm out of your way.

He stares after you a little in shock without even realizing it. You remain on his mind the rest of the day.

How F!Bimbo!Reader,

Finds out,

you now share a room with the guy you ran into earlier.

“This doesn’t change our plans.” You say. You met this other cutie at a club in a strip not too far off campus.

“You’re gonna fuck this freak?” The tall strawberry blonde sizes up your fuck buddy.

“I could say the same about your lil piece,” You blow a pale pink bubble while inspecting her under your intense gaze.

She pulls on his hand, and he shakes her off as he holds your gaze.

Your “date” grabs your hand, and you rip it away to flick him off. “Ew. Don’t fucking touch me.” You push him by his chest down onto the bed. “Well, if you wanna stand around ‘n watch or whatever, be my guest. But i’m gonna get some.”

You hop on top and grind down expertly, seemingly ignoring the other couple in your room. Secretly, the knowledge of the guy with all the scars watching you is the only thing making you wet.

Mesmerized by your hips as you move them, he stands frozen.

You’re the thing to put him in, and now to pull him back out of his trance, “Hey! Big guy, ya hear me?? I asked what your name is”

“‘S Ezra” he tries his hardest to catch his breath before you notice.

“Kay, Ezra, you got a condom or what?”

“Here,” he tosses one your way.

“Thanks, this loser here didn’t bring any. To. A. Club.” you point a manicured finger at the man under you while rolling your eyes.

“Woah!” the chick Ezra brought is lifted into his lap.

He puts a condom on, lining himself up with her.

You put your guy’s condom on and guide him into you.

“Uuuunnnf” The guy beneath you convulses a little.

“No fucking way. Did you just fucking come!?” You feel rage bubble and roil in your gut. “Fuck you! get outta here!”

“Wh-what? I’m s-sor—”

“Get. Out.” You practically jump off of him, and shove him out the door, fly still down, and limp dick still out.

Meanwhile, Ezra next to you is having no better luck. He’s trying not to stare at you while letting his chick get herself off on him.

You spark up a cigarette and pout.

The woman works herself to sleep before he can even get close. And the only thing that would have made him come, would have been watching you do it first.

You’re both disappointed and frustrated.

You risk the glance at him, not wanting to be seen as weak at all, but desperation outweighs the possible costs.

The second your eyes meet however he jumps to his feet.

You eye up that tall dish of a man(and his thick cock) as he swiftly stalks over, feeling giddy.

He pushes you into the small mattress, and pulls your body to him by your ankles.

He ops to lay behind you and hold your leg up.

“Play with yourself” He whispers dangerously close to your lips and stares deep into your eyes.

“N-no kissing.” You say, feeling a little bit shy all of a sudden…“I still have rules”

He snorts as he rubs his bare dick against your skin, getting your slick along his length. “Fine, no kissin’. One of my rules too ‘nyway”

You start expertly spinning a couple pretty and done up fingers on your clit.

“hah! Finally!” You moan gutturally as he enters you. His cock is thick enough to stretch you almost painfully. You keegle around him pleasuring you both.

“Such a tight fucking cunt” he grunts breathlessly.

“You like it? c’mon and fuck it like you own it.” You snap.

“Mmf, you’ll take what i give ya, slut” he starts a deep, and punishing rhythm.

Your body bounces with each slam and it feels absolutely divine.

“Fuck! Yes!!” You egg him on and pull your own leg tighter to your chest.

The muscles in his legs are all completely taught as he quickens his thrusts, and keeps the same force.

He brings you deliciously to your edge, and you push yourself over with your fingers. “Ahh!! Fucking Finally!”

“Such a fuckin’ slut, comin’ on this cock” He lets go of your leg opting to slap your thigh raw.

Your brows knit, “Ffff-fuck” Your legs are starting to shake with the overstimulation.

He continues to stuff you full, and slap you over and over again.

His hips shudder and with a few even quicker, deeper thrusts, he finishes inside you. You both cry out! You come again along with him and feel satisfied for the first time in so long.

“You better be ready to go again”

#cookie speaks #my oc #yandere #oc x reader #oc x you #dead dove do not eat #bully oc #oc ezra #bimbo reader #bimbo x bully #bimbo x yandere #yandere smutt #my writing