#I want them to dance fight so badly

[red-balloon12]

I think I speak for a lot of us when I say that I REALLY want an “Enchanted Grom Night” like fight scene with Chaggie. The idea of Charlie and Vaggie dancing with one another while battling….whomever, utilizing their strengths, sounds so cool! With Vaggie’s wings, there could be some good potential if them dancing in the air.

It’s a headcanon that Vaggie is the most experienced dancer of the group. I’m not sure how true that is or where that h/c came from but I’d love to see her use whatever dance skills she has. Plus, if it happens during that one allegedly abandoned episode where Charlie and Vaggie have to go to a dinner party, we’d get to see all of this while they’re wearing fancy clothes.

[fromdove]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⁞ 𝓓ICK 𝓖RAYSON ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝓦HEN 𝓗E'S 𝓘N 𝓛OVE 𝓗EADCANONS !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨୧

— dick grayson when he's in love hcs ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— dick grayson x fem!reader ᵎᵎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

— count how many times I said "like"..... ⊹ ࣪ ˖

© fromdove— All rights reserved. Reposting, translation, or modification of these works is strictly prohibited, regardless of whether credit is given.

∿　 　 . `💭` ㆍ

⤷ he teases you a lot. like. annoying. if you mispronounce a word one (1) time you will never hear the end of it. he’ll bring it up three weeks later like “remember when you said ‘sherbert’ instead of ‘sherbet’ lol dumbass” and you’re like i know where you sleep

⤷ he likes watching you do mundane things. like tying your shoes. or flipping pages. or brushing your teeth. “you always do that little pause before you spit. it’s cute.” <- what are you even supposed to do with that.

⤷ will Not. let you walk on the curb side of the street. ever. like you’ll try and he’ll do that quiet sidestep-switch like no. no. i’m the buffer between you and the world. get behind me baby i’m trained in 47 types of combat

⤷ you sneeze once. ONCE. uno. one. 1 !!!! time. and suddenly he’s Googling “early signs of pneumonia” and wrapping you in three blankets like you’re in an igloo.

⤷ he’s not subtle. not even a little. he’s grinning all the time. like you’re his little secret. except you’re not. because everyone knows. because he talks about you constantly and doesn’t realise it. like someone asks “what do you think of this sandwich place?” and he’s like “oh my partner hates pickles” and you’re like. ok???? who asked???????

⤷ texts like. really badly. "on my way" / "u good?" / "?" / “home safe?” / “did you eat?” / “also here’s a stray cat i found near the precinct it made me think of you bc it was mean but cute”. no punctuation. and then sends you a 3-paragraph message about a book from the 70s that reminded him of you.

⤷ one time you got a papercut and he ACTUALLY KISSED YOUR FINGER. like what is this. a 2003 romcom. who does that. you let him anyway.

⤷ dates are like. chaotic. they range. they VARY. he’ll plan them so carefully and then forget the address. it goes from him taking you rooftop dancing at 2am (he knows the security guard don’t ask). to the fanciest more expensive restaurants. or sometimes its the most random places...like why are we eating cold dumplings on a fire escape at midnight. why am i in your lap. why is this perfect. why r u dancing on the rooftop. pls. i just wanted to eat. it could also be you two literally brushing teeth side by side in pajamas while he talks about some city ordinance that made him mad.

⤷ also he’s like. a hand holder. all the time. especially in crowds. “just so i don’t lose you” ok liar you just like touching me.

⤷ he’s sooooooooooo good with kids it’s disgusting. like you’ll be walking past a playground and suddenly he’s in a full game of tag with a bunch of eight-year-olds like??? ok??? and you’re sitting there like is this what being in love feels like???????? have my babies then??????????

⤷ he gets nervous when you meet bruce. he acts like he doesn’t care but he’s standing straighter. fixing your collar. whispering “you got this”. like. dude. broski. seems like you need that advice a little more than me..

⤷ he brings you little things all the time. dumb things. a keychain. a sticker. he's gotten u a mug that says “i like my boyfriends like i like my coffee: hot and ready to fight crime”. he's like "that describes me perfectly babe!" ok..... just say ur inlove w/urself..

⤷ he loves when you wear his shirts. he pretends to be chill but he deflates when he sees it. “is that mine?” yes dick. it says “haley’s circus” on it. and it smells like crime fighting and your conditioner now. congrats. he’s 70% more handsy. 30% more cuddly. 100% ferocious internally. his caveman brain is like “MINE.”

⤷ he has like. six nicknames for you. three of them are variations of “birdie” and one of them is “hey trouble” and he says it with that little lopsided grin and you melt and throw a pillow at him and he catches it with one hand

⤷ he’s like. stupidly in love. and he’ll kiss your hand when he’s driving. and you’re like. eyes on the road. and he’s like. “i have great reflexes” and you’re like. great. that’s not the point.

⤷ he talks in his sleep. sometimes it’s mission stuff. sometimes it’s your name. once he said “alfred please no more soup” and you almost peed yourself laughing. he was so embarrassed. you bring it up constantly.

⤷ when he’s gone for patrol or a mission longer than expected he always texts. even if it’s just “still alive. miss u. criminals suck.”

⤷ he’s not flashy. but he’s intense. he listens. remembers everything. “didn’t you say you liked this song in april?” yes he has a playlist. yes it’s called “her smile > gotham skyline”

⤷ he acts like you’re a little miracle. like he can’t believe you’re real. he’ll just stare at you sometimes and blink slow like a cat and say “i love you” like it’s a confession every time.

⤷ he’ll tease you but only about dumb things. like how you sometimes stutter when you ramble or how you always leave the cap off the toothpaste. and then he’ll fix it. quietly. every time.

⤷ when he introduces you to his friends. he’s like. so soft. “this is my person. be nice. or i’ll beat you up. lovingly.”

⤷ you catch him looking at you all dreamy sometimes and he just goes “what?” and shrugs and kisses your forehead like it’s no big deal that he’s in constant awe of you

⤷ he’s in love like it’s easy. like it’s gravity. like he’s spent his whole life falling and you’re the first place that ever felt like landing.

⤷ you ask him to hang out and he’s like yeah yeah ofc and then five minutes later you’re on his bike and he's like “is gotham cold or am i crazy” and you're just clinging to him like a lil barnacle while the skyline blurs. he's only thinking about how soft your hands are on his stomach

⤷ he sends you memes. like. actually. they’re dumb. sometimes Nightwing fan edits. he pretends he doesn’t know you know. “someone sent me this” like ok babe sure. "someone" aka your own saved folder. keep lying

⤷ in love dick is like. chaotic neutral trying to be lawful good. he’ll pick you up from school or work and you’re like “you didn’t have to” and he goes “i know” but he’s there every time

⤷ he does this thing where he’ll lean on the counter while you talk. like hand-under-chin. dumb lil smile. he’s not even listening fully sometimes. he’s just watching you like you’re a painting in a gallery he’s been to before but still finds new details in. annoying. beautiful. criminal

⤷ if you’re sleeping over he’s sleeping on the edge of the bed because he moves like a windmill and he’s afraid he’ll knock you out mid-dream. but by morning you’re tangled. always. no exceptions

⤷ ok so. gifts. random. weird. he once gave you a grappling hook keychain and was so smug about it. “just in case you need a quick escape.” sir. from where. my bedroom??

⤷ he talks about you to everyone. not in a gross bragging way. in a like. “yeah (y/n) helped me pick this” or “(y/n) said i’d like this song” or “you’d like them. they’re really funny. and smart. and good. and like. they’re just. yeah.” and then changes the subject aggressively

⤷ he will NEVER say no to you playing with his hair. he’ll act like it’s not a big deal but if you stop he’ll be like “wait. you were doing the— you were playing with my hair—”

⤷ he's the type to check the exits wherever you go but also brings you gum and hand sanitizer like the world's most traumatised dad

⤷ sometimes he zones out while you're talking and you're like hello?? and he's just like “you looked really happy. i wanted to remember it.” AND THEN HE HAS THE NERVE TO SHRUG. ok poetic boy

⤷ he gets weirdly possessive but like. silently. if someone flirts with you at a party he’ll just kind of materialise next to you like “hey babe” and put his arm around you like hello yes i am six feet of jealousy wrapped in kevlar

⤷ he will not admit he cried over you once (more than once, lets be real). even though it’s obvious. even though jason literally heard him sniffling in the batcave. it’s fine. let him pretend

⤷ when you’re upset he gets quiet. not cold. just. steady. he listens. he doesn’t try to fix it unless you ask. he sits next to you and holds your hand and says “i’m here.” and he is. fully. always.

⤷ he’s got scars on scars but he lets you trace them. tells you the stories if you want. lies about the ones he’s not ready to talk about. it’s ok. you know. you wait

⤷ love makes him dumb. he does pushups with you sitting on his back. buys your favorite snacks in bulk. lets you paint his nails and then goes on patrol with them like it’s normal (it is)

⤷ he teaches you how to do flips. or tries. and then laughs when you fall. but then also kisses your scraped elbow like “my bad babe” with zero actual remorse. “you’ll get it next time” he says while still laughing. he’s sososososo annoying. you love him.

⤷ wears your hair tie on his wrist like it’s part of his uniform. you say nothing. he says nothing. but it’s always there.

⤷ teaches you escrima if you ask. but only if you promise not to make fun of the sticks. you make fun of the sticks anyway. he fake pouts. you kiss him mid-fight. he drops one stick. it’s fine.

⤷ carries a picture of you in his wallet and pretends he doesn’t. you find it once and he tries to act like it’s no big deal. “whatever. you look cute. move on.”

⤷ he thinks he's subtle. he's not. the whole batfamily knows. jason makes fun of him. damian gags. tim just leaves the room. bruce is like “don’t get distracted” and dick is like “yes sir 🫡” while actively distracted.

⤷ picks at your food. then acts shocked when you do the same. “you said you weren’t hungry??” yeah ok YOU said you weren’t emotionally available dick now look at us. hypocrites in love.

⤷ gives you nicknames like “hotshot” or “trouble” and then blushes when you call him anything. “dork” makes him literally malfunction. he pretends to be offended but smiles when you’re not looking.

⤷ gets quiet when you’re sad. like real quiet. sits next to you and just waits. doesn’t force you to talk. but if you do talk—he listens. like really listens. remembers every word. brings it up months later. “you said this place makes you feel calm” oh so you remember that ok

⤷ he’s so annoying. in the best way. like. the type of annoying that makes you blush and kick your feet and want to punch a wall. his wall specifically.

⤷ he’s all casual flirty with everyone right?? but when he’s in love with you??? he turns tender. like terrifyingly tender. it’s like he’s trying not to break you by looking too hard. like eye contact might detonate you. but i mean. either way. he still stares at you hard. even when trying not to.

⤷ he does the “can you sit with me while i do paperwork” thing. like you’re a cat. like he just wants you in proximity while he suffers.

⤷ he picks up food for you without asking. every time. "thought you might be hungry." no baby you knew. we have a soul connection. you felt my hunger. don’t play with me

⤷ he touches your back when you cross streets. lets you walk on the inside of the sidewalk. opens the door even when you argue. says "just let me take care of you a little." & now you’re sobbing in the CVS skincare aisle. congrats.

⤷ he lets you braid his hair when it gets too long. he pretends to hate it. you both know he’s lying.

⤷ if you're tired? he's pulling you into his lap before you can blink. he’s like “you rest. i got it.” you don’t even know what “it” is. but he’s got it. apparently.

⤷ "you don't have to do everything alone anymore." <- said in a whisper. at 1:47am. when you tried to sneak out so he wouldn't see you cry. yeah. he saw. and now you're in his arms and he's not letting go until morning.

⤷ when he's in love he’s... warm. like that kind of warm that feels like sunshine on a cold day. or like a bath that runs the perfect temperature.

⤷ he remembers everything. like that one time you said you liked strawberry twizzlers?? there's a pack in your glovebox now. he swears he didn’t put it there. liar.

⤷ you call him in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream and he’s like “i’m coming over” and then he’s actually there. barefoot. in sweatpants. holding two mugs and looking worried

⤷ he loves all of you. not just the good stuff. he loves the mess. the overthinking. the crying. the way you squeak when you laugh. he calls it “his favorite sound.”

⤷ every time you fight. he comes back. every time. he won’t let you sleep mad. he’ll wait on your fire escape all night if he has to. says “i’m not leaving until we’re okay. even if you throw something at me.”

⤷ once tried to not fall in love with you. failed.

[tttabii]

— 엔하이픈 getting sick - enhypen x reader ₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎

pairing ⊹ ࣪ ˖ idol! heeseung, jay, jake, sunoo and ni-ki x idol! reader. ||× genre 𖹭: fluff !! note: writing this while i'm badly sick, i want them to take care of me too and i wrote a bit too much on the ni-ki part

heeseung ˎˊ˗

It was the middle of summer, and god—it was hot.

You had been under the sun for nearly three hours, recording a new music video, your throat sore and dry from yelling out directions to the equipment, dancing under the hot spotlights, and shooting scenes that needed to be shot over and over again. And even though your group's performance was later that evening, your body had other plans.

You'd already been fighting off a sore throat all week, but now? 

Your manager had to rearrange everything last minute. You didn't even have the energy to check your phone. So Heeseung came. Using the spare key he quietly carried around in his wallet, he opened the door to your apartment to find a disaster—tissues everywhere, the air was warm and stuffy, and you were curled up on the bed, nearly falling off your shoulder.

You were breathing heavily, slow and shallow, head burning up as he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. 

You let out a soft whine at the cold touch.

"...Hee..." you croaked, blinking open your eyes to find him kneeling beside your bed.

"Take it slow, baby," he said softly, brushing your hair back slowly. "I'll make you some soup, okay?"

You managed to give a small nod before he disappeared into your kitchen, and somehow just hearing him move around your apartment was comforting and made you feel at home. You pulled yourself out of bed just enough to wash your face and slowly shuffled into the living room.

Heart pounding, you opened your group's Instagram and Weverse notifications—the announcement was out. You weren't going to be performing today. Your fans were already asking questions and worrying about where you were.

You suddenly felt a little guilty, so you opened the live and set your phone up on the table in front of you, curling up on your couch. "Sorry, gu—" you broke into a rough cough, already hoarse.

Your fans could tell immediately that something was wrong. Your usually radiant skin looked pale, your lips were dry, and even though you had attempted to brush your hair just a little, you still looked awful and tired.  

"I'm sick, so I'm not going to be performing," you mumbled, voice soft and cracked. "I'm sorry, bunnies... I promise I'll do my best when I recover." 

From the kitchen, Heeseung watched with a faint smile as he poured soup into a bowl and brewed some herbal tea. He made sure to stay out of the camera's view, even as he walked over and gently placed the bowl of soup in front of you on the coffee table.

But your fans were fast.

"WHO JUST GAVE YOU SOUP?!"

"wait was that a GUY'S HAND???"

"THOSE RINGS..."

"that looked like Heeseung's ring. DON'T PLAY WITH ME."

You panicked, barely having the energy to lie properly. "It's my friend, guys... she's taking care of me right now."

Your voice broke again in the middle of a sentence. You coughed, even warmer, and could feel the throbbing in your temples return worse than before. Even the fans were chirping at you to log off. Heeseung gave you a slight reprimanding look through the screen before you pouted.

"Okay, bye guys!" You rushed out with a heavy wave as you ended the live.

You let out a long exhausted sigh and melted into the couch. Heeseung walked over as you leaned on him, and he hugged you against his chest, trying to invite a little warmth into your cooled body. You could hardly even keep your eyes open.

"Mm... shh," he whispered, and gently kissed your cheek. "I'll bring the food to the table, okay?"

He fed you the soup slowly, helped you take your medicine, and let you rest on his lap while stroking your hair. His phone buzzed. It was Jake.

jake: "bro get on fortnite rn we're wait-"

jake: "WAIT. LOOK AT THIS." [link to a post comparing the rings on "your friend's" fingers to Heeseung's] 

Jake was panicking. Heeseung only sighed, one hand still running along your forehead as you quietly whined in your sleep about the air conditioning being too cold.

Who cared if people suspected?

Let them talk. Let them wonder.

As long as you were by his side—and he could take care of you like this—Heeseung didn't care who found out.

jay ˎˊ˗

You were staying over at Jay's place because last night the rain came down in thick sheets and thunder rumbled so loudly you didn't dare walk home—he'd insisted you stay. And now, less than twelve hours later, the sun was scorching hot outside like it hadn't just stormed. The kind of sudden weather switch that made you feel like your body had been hit by a bus.

And with your weak immune system?

Yeah, you were fucked.

You hardly noticed Jay skittering around in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and lightly humming to himself as he prepared for morning practice. The ache in your head made the world feel as if it were spinning. You opened your eyes slowly, blinked a couple of times, throat was prickly, nose congested, and your head was cloudy.

Jay appeared from the bathroom a second later, towel around his neck, wearing a large smile that was fading fast—until he caught a glimpse of the haze in your eyes.

"Morning, princess," he said, walking toward you to kiss your forehead, never fully finishing his motion, coming to a halt. "...Baby, are you sick?" he said quickly, his brows knitted together as he placed his palm onto the back of your neck.

You were burning up. You gave him a weak nod and curled into the blanket, voice barely above a whisper. "I think I may have caught something..."

Jay wasted no time. Guilt written all over his face. "God! I should have brought an umbrella last night. We should never have been out in the rain..."

You sniffled and reached for him. "It's okay, Jayjay..."

He melted at how you held on to him like a sleepy koala, giving a soft sigh before scooping you up and moving to the bathroom. He wiped down your forehead and back with a cool towel in order to bring your fever down, mumbling apologies while he scrubbed the sweat off of your skin.

Once you were settled back on the couch, propped with all the pillows, Jay tucked a blanket in tight, told you not to move, and raced off to the nearest pharmacy for medicine. You knew he was worried, Jay always had that look of a worried parent when you were sick—the deep furrowed brow and concerned furrowed forehead.

While you waited, you made your way over to Jay's vinyl collection. He had played records for you before; the best jazz and mellow artists, that always felt warm. You picked one and let the soothing piano notes fill the apartment as you tucked back on the couch, missing Jay already.

You must have fallen asleep because the next thing you felt was his soft voice waking you up. "Sweetheart... wake up just for a bit... I made food."

He fed you warm homemade chicken soup with veggies, spoonful-by-spoonful, and made sure to watch closely to see that you ate enough before giving you medicine.

You took a quick photo of the meal after he left the bowl on the table, a cute little spread of home-cooked dishes. You uploaded it to your private account with a soft, simple caption:

"oops 🍵💤"

Immediately, fans flooded the post trying to guess if you had caught a cold. Some mentioned how comforting the food looked and a couple of the sharp eyed ones spotted the shadow cast by the glaring sunlight—two shadowy silhouettes.

One of the shadows had a slight fluff of hair that some fans questioned if looked... familiar. Some even commented that the food looked very similar to something Jay made during a prior cooking live.

Whoops.

But no one could really tell. No name. No face. Just a soft launch gone slightly sideways.   

Jay didn't care. When he saw the post he softly chuckled under his breath then lightly rubbed your back while whispering, "Next time I will make sure my shadow is more subliminal."

You just smiled sleepily resting your head against his shoulder. Fever aside, you always felt better when Jay was near.

jakeˎˊ˗

Jake had finally recovered from his weekly IV drip—the kind he still got squeamish about despite being used to it—and now, right on cue, you were sick too. Perhaps it was the cold snap, perhaps it was the jet lag from flying out to Japan with him right after you had your own tour, either way, your immune system didn't stand a chance.

Still, you showed up for him.

You sat in the VIP area with a few friends, bundled up in his favorite black leather jacket. Fans began murmuring, cameras clicked, whispers started going around on online forums. Eventually, even the loudest people in the room went quiet when they noticed you were there; at first trying to guess which member's jacket it was. 

"That jacket looks like Sunghoon's. Didn't he wear that in a photo a few weeks ago?"

"Wait no, isn't that Jake's?" 

Then someone zoomed in and caught the tiny detail no one expected: a small, gold retriever pin tucked near the zipper. The same pin Jake had worn a few times—once on his bag, once on his jacket in a Weverse live.

Oops.

Fans connected the dots faster than you could sneeze.

"SHE HAS THE SAME DOG PIN AS JAKE."

"Didn't she say on live last month she said she loves golden retrievers too??"

"Is this a soft launch or we keep being delusional again?"

Some were in denial, just a coincidence.

"No way. Everyone loves dogs. It is probably just a similar pin. She probably got it after seeing Jake wear his 🫠"

But others were already finding and editing side by side images. And in the middle of all this chaos, you were just sitting back stage, tissues in hand, warm paper cup of water providing lukewarm comfort for your raw throat. The lights and audience made your head spin so a staff member helped you find your way behind the stage, as you were trying not to faint.

Jake, while performing, had been searching the audience for your face. His heart sank when he was unable to see you anywhere. Then he rushed back stage during break and saw you right away, tucked away on the bench, passed out, bundled up in his jacket and sniffling miserably.

"Y/n," he said quietly, crouching down in front of you. "Why did you not tell me you felt this bad?" 

You blinked up at him. "Didn't wanna distract you. You're mid-show, Jakey."

He exhaled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "You're more important anyways."

A manager filled him in—how you'd likely gotten sick from the back-to-back traveling and sudden cold winds. Jake stood, nodding, then pressed some cash into the manager's hands.

"If she gets worse, take her to the hotel. And please grab some soup for her. Something comforting. Nothing spicy," he added with a knowing glance, knowing your love for spicy stuff.

Before he headed back to the stage, he kissed your temple, his hand gently cupping your cheek for a little too long. "I'll be back soon, angel... just wait for me."

Later that evening, Jake quietly opened the door to your hotel room, tossing the key card on the table before he slipped his shoes off completely. You were there, curled in a burrito of blankets wearing one of his oversized white shirts—legs bare and cold feet tucked into the covers. The tissue box was nearly empty on the nightstand and your nose was an angry red from previously blowing it so often.

He smiled softly, slipping between the sheets next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your back against his chest. "You took the medicine, right?" He murmured against your hair.

You groaned. "I hate that syrup. It tastes so bitter.

Jake chuckled, kissing you softly first on your forehead, and then your cheek, and progressing to kissing your jaw. "You need it, bitter or not."

You shook your head, trying to hide under the blanket again, but he gently pulled you back. "Baby," he whispered, "I'll kiss you every time you take a sip."

Your eyes peeked out. "Everywhere?"

His smirk was immediate. "Everywhere."

You sighed dramatically. "Fine."

He held the cup up, waited while you pinched your nose and gulped it down, then kept his promise—pressing warm, feathery kisses all over your face, down your neck, even to your shoulders.

"See?" he whispered, settling under the covers with you again. "Not so bad."

You nuzzled closer. "You're lucky you're cute."

Jake chuckled, kissing your nose. "And you're lucky I'm hopelessly in love with you."

The fans could speculate all they wanted. But your head on Jake's chest, his arms tight around your waist, his whispered I love yous between medicine doses—was real, and he was yours only. 

sunooˎˊ˗

Lately, you and Sunoo had been obsessed with spicy food—spicy fried chicken, spicy tteokbokki, even spicy ramyeon at 1 a.m. The cravings hit both of you hard, and after every fiery meal, you two would cool off with mint choco ice cream like it was your thing.

The thing was—your spice tolerance wasn't like Sunoo's. Your throat was starting to bother you, but you didn't want to ruin the fun so you kept quiet. 

Not the best move. 

That night, after the spicy food coma set in, you and Sunoo did your skincares together—Sunoo dabbing toner with a cotton pad to your cheeks, while adjusting your headband like the skincare king he was. He laughed when you pouted at your sniffling, red, nose. "Too much spice, baby," he teased. You smiled, snuggling up beside him in bed, swiftly falling asleep. 

Then the alarm rang the next morning. 

You blinked awake slowly, throat so dry it felt like paper, damn near scratchy as hell. You reached over to shut the alarm off, hardly able to hum at all. Sunoo was already awake, arms around your waist softly, scrolling through his phone. 

He looked down to you the moment he felt movement in bed. 

"Morning, baby," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You hummed again. That was when he noticed.

His head snapped up. "Wait... are you sick? And you didn't tell me last night?!"

You croaked, "Sorry... it's just my throat."

"Ugh, you're going to go from that to coughs to fevers. We've been eating spicy food and mint choco like it's a game! Why didn't you tell me?!" Sunoo groaned dramatically as he pulled you closer.

You gave him a small shrug, feeling too tired to faze it. He didn't scold you for long.

He wrapped you tighter in his arms, guiding you to the kitchen, making you sit while he brewed warm herbal tea. He even gave you one of his throat-soothing pills from his little skincare/pill kit. He showered you himself, rubbing your back gently, then gave you little massages where your muscles ached, whispering, "My poor baby..."

"Next time," he said shyly with a pout, "we're eating sweet and sour food only. No crazy spice unless I approve." You nodded into his chest, throat sore but heart completely full.

Later that morning, while bundled up in Sunoo's hoodie, legs over his lap as he massaged your calves, you posted on Weverse:

Never eating spicy food and then mint choco again 😿

It was innocent, but your fans immediately caught on.

You never mentioned mint choco before—always claimed it was "too toothpaste-coded." And last night, Sunoo posted a picture of a spicy feast and a suspicious bowl of mint choco beside it.

The comments flooded in.

"Wait didn't Sunoo post the same food?? 👀"

"THE TIMING DON'T PLAY WITH US"

"Bestie just soft launched her bf I fear 😭"

"Omg are you and Sunoo dating?! This can't be a coincidence."

Meanwhile, Sunoo peeked over your shoulder, reading the comments and laughing.

"You outed yourself," he teased, pecking your cheek. "My little mint-choco victim."

You groaned, voice still raspy. "Worth it... maybe."

He giggled. "Next time, we're eating rice and soup. That's final."

ni-kiˎˊ˗

You had just gotten off the plane and already felt like you were in hell. Your hoodie was glued to your skin, your cramps were worsening by the second, and to top it all off=—your period was going rogue in the middle of an extremely busy airport.

The air conditioning were blasting, but you were sweating as if it were 40°C. Fans were cheering, calling your name, waving signs and phones in your face. You loved them, just not today. Not when your head felt heavy, your body felt weak, and every nerve ending was screaming for silence and space.

You were wearing a baggy grey hoodie—Ni-ki's hoodie, of course—and a cap low over your face, a black mask covering your pale skin. You didn't want anyone to see how bad you looked. You just wanted to make it to the SUV outside. That's all.

Unfortunately, today wasn't going to be easy.

The sea of fans was insane. Bodyguards were attempting to keep the fans away, but some even the male fans were just pushing in too close. You kept your head down, ignored the flashing cameras, and didn't wave—not that you didn't care to, but your body wasn't processing the situations engendered by fandom.

That didn’t stop the fake fans from filming you anyway, uploading clips online with captions like:

"She didn't even smile."

"Why is she always acting like she's better than everyone?"

"Ugh, such a bitch. Not even a wave?"

"Look at her face, it's like she's disgusted by her own fans."

"I've supported her since debut but this? I'm done."

Real fans, however, were not buying the charade at all. They saw the slumping shoulders. The members gently holding you. The sweat on your forehead. The mask was hiding a certain paleness. And they came to your defense as much as the posted needed, writing:

"Guys... she looks sick."

"Leave her alone, she literally looks like she's about to faint and y'all are screaming in her face."

"Fake fans are exposing themselves fr."

 "Protect her at all costs. She doesn't deserve this hate." 

From the opposite gate, Ni-ki spotted you instantly. You were hard to miss, even in disguise. The hoodie. The posture. He could tell from meters away something was wrong. Your head was down. You were barely moving. You looked like you were seconds away from collapsing. And then... you did.

Your knees gave out, your vision went black for a second, and you dropped.

Chaos broke loose. Fans gasped, phones shot up, and your members swarmed to you. But it was Ni-ki that got to you first, pushing past airport staff urgently to reach you, gently grabbing your shoulders and saying your name softly. His group's SUV had just arrived, and without missing a beat he wrapped you in his hoodie, hiding you from view as he helped you inside the car.

Fans lost it.

Photos and videos of the two of you were circulated on the internet within minutes. The matching grey hoodies. The careful way he was holding you together as if you were glass. The way he pulled you into his car.

And of course, the rumors began to explode. The supportive fans were the first to jump into the fray:

"He literally carried her into the van. He didn't care who was watching."

"That's his hoodie. That's HER hoodie. That's THEIR hoodie now."

"Ni-ki was livid when he saw her faint. He cares so much I'm crying."

"Whether they are dating or not, she needed help and he was there. Respect."

But the toxic crowd quickly followed:  

"So unprofessional of her to faint in public."

"Why is he babying her like she's five?"

"I swear if they're dating I'm unstanning."

"She's not even that pretty why would Ni-ki go for her?"

"She always needs someone to save her, can't stand girls like that."

When you saw the trending Twitter tags - #ni-ki, #getwellsoonY/N, #matchinghoodie, #Y/Nattheairport, you clicked into the replies. 

Bad decision. You scrolled on in silence, chest tightening with every scornful reply, tears in your eyes, not just from being sick but from the sheer stupidity of it. That was when Ni-ki took your phone away.

Locked it up with one hand and put it out of reach. "You're not looking at that garbage," he said flatly.

"But-"

"No. I don't care what they say. You're sick. You fainted. And I'm here. That's what matters." He tucked you into the hotel bed, hoodie still wrapped around you, soup warming on the tray table.

He massaged your temples and brushed brushes hair out of your eyes, kissed your forehead and whispered,   "They don't deserve to know who you really are anyway."

Later on, that night, the hate just got worse. Clips of you fainting. Of Ni-ki helping you. Of the hoodie. The SUV. Fan edits with sad dramatic music. People scrutinizing every breath you took like it was a crime scene. And I mean the comments... they hurt.

So you went live. You just couldn't stay quiet any longer. You popped on wearing your pajama hoodie, your nose visibly red from blowing it so often. Your voice came out raspy, lower than usual, broken by coughs and sniffles every few words.

"Hey... I just wanted to clear something up" You began quietly and within seconds thousands of people were lifting up your notification. "I wasn't trying to be rude. I wasn't trying to ignore anyone when I was at the airport. I've been sick... I've been really sick."

Fans started flooding the comments: 

"You sound so sick omg :("

"Don't explain yourself we understand!!"

"Your voice TT please rest!!"

"Red nose and raspy voice oh no baby T_T"

"We love you no matter what. Health comes first."

You gave a weak laugh, sniffling. "Even though it was cold at the airport, I felt like I was burning up. And I was on my period, I... I genuinely thought I was gonna faint. I didn't mean to look cold or annoyed. I was just trying to get to the car."

You sighed, taking a sip of tea.

"And about Ni-ki..." you paused. "He just happened to be there. He brought his SUV before ours, and he helped me out because—Well, he's nice. That was all, I didn't ask him to help me, and it was dead nice of him." You bowed your head a bit, saying in a quiet voice, "I am sorry I didn't smile or wave or stop. I truly am. I just wasn't okay."

Comments blew up with reassurance, hearts and "it's okay's" galore. But then—just as you wiped your nose and reached for another tissue—your hotel room door creaked open behind you.

You didn't even realize at first. Ni-ki came into frame, barefoot, hair a mess, wearing a black tank top and your hoodie wrapped around him. He noticed your propped-up camera, and paused.

"...Are you live right now?" he asked, confused.

Your eyes widened in horror, slowly turning your head towards the camera and blinking. "....Yeah," you whispered.

Ni-ki squinted at the screen, and then at you. "Wait—wait, did you you just apologized?"

"Ni-ki—"  

"Are you kidding me?" He stepped fully into view now that he was visibly annoyed. "Why are you saying sorry when it's not even your fault?"

The comments exploded:

"WAIT HE'S IN HER ROOM??"

"NAH. NAH. NAH."

"YALL LIVE TOGETHER??"

"So, they're DATING???"

"Is this a soft launch or a HARD EXPOSE???"

You panicked to mute the mic, eyes wide and waving your arms. "Ni-ki, you're on live—!"

He blinked. "...So?."

You turned back to the camera all flushed, "So... yeah."

He leaned in and didn't even bother to conceal it now. "Hey. I'm already here—she's not going to read any other comments tonight. She's going to get rest. That's all we have. Goodnight."

Just like that, he ended the live for you. The screen went black. But the internet exploded.

"he's literally so protective over her??? ending her live, talking about 'us' not even'‘her'😭😭 "

"just say you're dating already omg we're not stupid"

"they didn't even hide it... same hoodie, same room, same SOUL"

"my mama and papa"

"he said 'she's not gonna read comments tonight' like who gave you husband rights?? oh wait"

"this is literally their soft launch and I'm crying"

"they're not even denying it anymore lmfao"

"she looked so sick but he looked at her like she hung the stars???"

"you mean to tell me ni-ki's been taking care of her while she's sick and getting hated on?? king behavior"

"y'all bullied a sick girl and then watched her bf walk in and protect her like a k-drama. embarrassing tbh"

"we owe her an apology fr she didn't even do anything but exist and faint"

Though of course, there's still bitterness going around: 

"she's milking this for clout now"

"i bet it was staged. who goes live when they're sick?"

"not her crying again"

"ni-ki deserves better"

"This isn't professional. Idols dating is okay, but being messy with it? NO WAY."

But that was immediately drowned out. Because the next trending comment thread was:

"anyway, when's the couple vlog?"

"pre-debut we got hints. WE BEEN KNOWING."

"them in grey hoodies is more iconic than the Eiffel Tower now"

"I'm framing that 'she's not reading comments tonight' moment. ACTUAL HUSBAND ENERGY." 

Ni-ki chuckled softly as he scrolled through the flood of comments, the glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes. You were curled up against his chest, face nuzzled into his hoodie, barely keeping your eyes open from how drained you felt. Still recovering, still tired—mentally and physically.

"Look," he murmured, tilting the phone a bit so you could see. "These are the ones you should be reading."

He gently tapped the screen, showing a thread of sweet comments.

You hummed weakly, barely glancing, your forehead still resting against his chest. He could feel how warm you were—your fever hadn't fully gone down—but you managed a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Ni-ki kissed the top of your head and whispered, "That's more like it." Then, with one arm still wrapped protectively around you, he set the phone down again and pulled the blanket tighter around both of you.

"You don't have to deal with any of it. Not when I'm here," he whispered.

[lanabuckybarnes]

| A Door Away |

Minors DNI 18+

2 weeks. It’s been 2 weeks of biological warfare in the sense of your heat. When he met up with you in the hall, Bucky knew with just with a glance just how fucked he was, and he needed it badly

✧Pairing✧ Alpha!MilitaryVet!Bucky x Omega!Fem!Reader

✧Warnings✧ Alpha!Bucky, Pining, Fluff, Buck being a cutie, Wet dreams, Oral (M), Rut, Heat, A/B/O Themes, Dirty Talk, Petnames [Omega, Pretty Girl, Baby, Princess], Dirty talk, Confessions - Any other warnings let me know

✧Word Count✧ 3.7k

✧Events✧ Hot Bucky Summer | WEEK 2 | “What should I call you? | Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents

Buckys-wintersoldier 2K followers Bingo | Square: Confessions in a weird situation | @buckys-wintersoldier

James Bucky Barnes was aloof. He kept to himself most of the time, rarely speaking beyond a hello or a soft ‘how are you?’ You had to admit that there was something about the man that intrigued you. Was it his cold gaze that seemed to melt whenever he looked at you, those rippling arms and toned body you’d caught a glimpse of through your peephole one warm day. Or maybe it was the sweet gentle nature he hid behind those layers of hardened emotions. You can always remember the first time you met your neighbour face to face. He held a basket in his hand filled to the brim with household items that you could easily have forgotten with a big move.

“Oh hi” you chirped when you noticed that you’d been taking in the man for a little too long. His scent captivates you, keeping you glued to your doormat. A rich vanilla permeating your nostrils, it was one of the nicest scents you’d encountered around your time with alphas.

He cleared his throat, the tip of his nose and ears darkening to a deep pink.

“My sister…I mentioned to her I had a new neighbour and she made this…for you” his voice dropped off at the end of the sentence, his deep blue eyes unable to hold your own for more than a minute. He was peculiar for an Alpha, most of them reeked of arrogance, treating their subordinates like gum on the sole of their shoe. But here he was, a basket stretched out to you and his eyes pinned to his shoes.

You’d been staring again.

A few months into living in the new apartment, everything was finally settled and you were settling into your little home just great. Bucky helped an awful lot which surprised you beyond belief. When your AC broke and your landlord wouldn’t pick up your calls James knocked on your door, tools in hand. He had it fixed in under an hour.

The same with your shower, sink and that time you bought a bigger bed, determined you could do it yourself only to knock on James’ door with your tail tucked between your legs.

After an offer of his favourite dish and beer, he found it hard to keep the ‘annoyed’ scowl on his face. You were just too cute looking up at him like that, with wide puppy dog eyes, looking so defeated. His animal brain lived for the domestic life you two had accidentally created.

“Today was nice Buck” You turned in his embrace to lean into his side a little more, your legs tucked under you and your face inches away from his. The swans in the water splashed around, courting each other with their pretty dances.

“I’m glad you liked it” he let his hand, the metal one that he’d lost while serving, cup your cheek, the plates clicking softly as he soothed his thumb over the bone.

His eyes dropped to the perfect bow of your lips, how close they were to his. It would take only a slight movement to connect them, swallowing your soft sounds.

“You don’t gotta stare,” you teased. He lurched forward, capturing your lips in a tight embrace, his tongue pressing against your mouth looking for entry which you gladly granted.

There was no fight for dominance in the kiss, your tongues dancing instead. His lungs stung with lack of oxygen but he didn't want to pull away, he couldn’t, your soft floral scent mixing with the dewy air keeping him trapped. When it became too much you parted, his lip captured by your teeth.

There was something so primal in your eyes, a longing that had him twitching inside his jeans in anticipation.

“James” his name came out of your mouth as a breathy whimper, almost like it was excruciating to say his name. The air around you both changed into something humid, biting at him, rearing its erogenous head.

He didn’t even notice the way your hand had drifted down, his breath catching in his throat as you rubbed your palm over him.

“Need you James” you whispered so sweetly in his ear, leaving soft kisses down his neck, completely missing his scent gland. The rhythmic clanks of his belt sounded in his ears and you pulled back with a victorious sound.

You looked like an angel as you pulled him from his briefs, pumping his length until precum beaded at the tip. Your eyes never left his as you sunk, your tongue rolling out to taste him.

You were so close he could feel your hot breath against his tip, your pink muscle drawing ever closer—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Bucky’s eyes shot open. His chest heaving against his mattress euphoria, evidence of his actions that he’d just imagined soaked his underwear and sheets.

But the dream was more than just a run-of-the-mill thing. It only meant one thing for Bucky. His rut.

To say you were growing concerned for James was an understatement. For over two weeks now you hadn't seen him, hadn’t heard a thing from him at all. It was like he just vanished. It was when he didn’t show up for your weekly meal together that it reached its boiling point.

You couldn’t even eat the food you prepared as you sat, staring blankly at the spot James would usually sit, letting you drag on and on about your day with a soft smile or a little comment here and there. Your heart always fluttered when he did that, even if it was just a small hum it sent butterflies flapping about aimlessly in your stomach.

You went to bed in a sour mood, hangry and entirely terrified for your friend.

You tossed and turned in dreamless slumber, any slight sound shocking you awake, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t force yourself into deeper rest.

The clock on your bedside table read 3am when you heard a bang in the hallway, a curse following it. You slipped out from under the covers and grabbed the first thing that came into your hand, your dad’s baseball bat he gave to you for good luck—and for a scenario just like this one.

You crept silently down your hall to the front door, avoiding each creaky floorboard that Bucky promised to fix sometime last week. Peaking through the peephole you found the very man that had made your life a living pain for the past few weeks.

You swung your door open quickly, meeting the wild eyes of James, anger bubbling in your chest fighting with the concern you also felt. The concern won by a slim margin.

“James” you whispered, inspecting his body with your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess, and his pale blue shirt was wrinkled. Still the same man and with no sign of injury, except the pained expression across his face.

“Bucky. Call me Bucky” he forced a smile but he couldn’t hide the low rumblings of a growl in his broad chest. His brain short-circuited at the way your sweet voice sounded. It brought him right back into his bed and into that dream. He couldn’t deal with that and he sure as hell wouldn’t force you to either. He wasn’t that kind of alpha.

Then your nose picked up on something in the air around you, that vanilla smell that Bucky had, it swirled with something much more fruity, something suggestive that had your omega brain wrestling with your logical human side.

His rut.

That’s where he was.

His voice rasped as he spoke, lying dormant for too long but your mind was far too occupied with more nefarious thoughts. You couldn’t help but imagine him, legs spread wide on a couch, his naked chest blushed pink, his mouth agape as strangled moans, growls, any sound of pleasure falling from him. His hips fucking up into his hand, or one of those silicone pussy’s you’d seen in porn.

Would he be thinking of you while he called out for his omega?

“Hello?” You shook out of your trance, realising that you’d been staring at Bucky the whole time. You shot him an awkward smile, confusing him further.

“Bye.”

Slam. Your door shook on its hinges as you slid down the other end of it.

Bye? Why the fuck did you say that? You let your head fall backwards, sucking in some much-needed fresh air. Your thighs clenched, your hand wandering between your legs to your soaked panties. And that was only because of his smell.

Bucky was no better, the remains of his rut flaring up at the sight of you, in that tank and panties. You hadn’t anticipated anyone and opened the door in a panic, completely forgetting about your half-naked look. Bucky grunted, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous he was being. He threw his keys into the bowl and stripped off his clothes, heading straight for the shower. If he left it any longer he didn’t want to think of the ways he’d ruin your tiny body.

His cock throbbed at the notion. God he hated his brain sometimes.

You shot out of bed in a panic at the first twinge. It couldn’t be happening, you hadn’t had one in months. The second twinge had your legs like jelly, your hands slapping onto the nearest surface.

Oh, it was happening, and you had only a little time to prepare.

Throwing on a pair of sweats and quickly doing your teeth you frantically made your way to the car park to grab your car, almost speeding to the shop just so you could be at home in time.

You raided the store of all its protein products and energy drinks. The bags almost burst at the seam as you carried them to the elevator. Your fingers ached and your body cried out. Come on it won’t be that much longer, you reassured that animalistic part of your brain.

Stepping out onto your floor you struggled down the carpeted hall, the bags feeling heavier and heavier. Thankfully Bucky would be at work, you didn’t have any chance of bumping into him.

You fished for your keys in your pocket, grasping them tightly before fumbling with them.

“Need a hand?” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh yesss. A range of emotions crossed your brain at his deep voice, your logical brain cursing while your omega brain reeled.

Yes. you need a hand, let the alpha know what’s wrong. Your animal brain demanded.

Don’t be fucking stupid, he’s your neighbour and he doesn’t even like you. You’re wanting us to wriggle our ass in his face and beg to be bred, yeah I’m sure he wouldn’t call the cops.

It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to ask alphas for help during their heat, kind of like a friends-with-benefits scenario. But you’d be damned if you were asking Bucky for help. You could get a bit…passionate about sex and it doubled during your heat, you liked Bucky too much to let him bear witness to that, your mind plaguing you with thoughts of him hightailing it and running at the first sight of you.

You’d settle with your little knotted friend that rested neatly in your drawer.

After politely declining Bucky’s offer you for straight to work.

Night drew closer, your nest established on your floor, perfectly poised just the way you like it. Energy drinks and your trusty silicone dildo lay off to the side.

You took your time showering, doing your entire routine. Drying yourself off before lathering your body in lotion, you didn’t even bother to put on some clothing, instead settling yourself into the nest in a foetal position.

Your hips rolled into the air, soft whimpers falling from you at around 2am. Without hesitation you grabbed the rubber cock, squirting some lube on it and running it through your soaked slit. You pushed it in slowly until the knot pressed against your entrance, your pussy not quite ready yet but with the way your wetness rolled out of your body, it wouldn’t be too long.

Bucky could hear your whimpering from the next apartment, your scent wafting through his house and straight into his nostrils. His cock twitched at your soft sounds, your muffled pleading for an Alpha to fill you up.

His mind wandered, were you using your fingers to get off or one of those cocks he knew companies made to exploit little omega’s like you.

“Mmm fuck Alpha hurts so much need your pups”

God it was going to be a long night.

The longer you went on the worse Bucky got, his cock dribbling all over his tight briefs, his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. He sat on the side of his bed, his head leaning against the wall, listening to you please yourself.

2 weeks later your heat was showing no signs of subsiding. Your supplies from your first run had gone long ago and you had to ask your friend to grab you some more. You’d never felt a heat like this, usually they’d last a couple of days and that would be that but you were still riding your dildo a week later.

“Fuckfuckfuck…Alpha please so good” you slurred, a flurry of whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you rocked your hips back and forth, the head of the dildo brushing against your sweet spot. Your pussy gushing more slick around the plastic, smearing all over your thighs and onto the blankets of your nest.

It just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Your orgasms shook through you but you were left unsatisfied and riding the rubber cock desperately. Trying to seek that one good, back arching blissful climax that had you sinking into your sheets in exhaustion.

But it never came.

“Oh fuck Alpha gimme that fucking knot mmmm need your knot so bad, need you to breed me full” your moans mixed with the sloshing of your cunt, your lips stretching around the knot as it sunk into you repeatedly with a sloppy sound, your fingers frantically strumming your clit for anything. You could feel the coils in your stomach tighten almost painfully but no matter what you did they just wouldn’t snap.

“Fuckkkkk” You stopped your movements, sitting on the dildo and catching your breath. You were at a loss, you didn’t know what to do, if you didn’t cum you were going to drive yourself insane but no matter how hard you fucked yourself it just wouldn’t make anything happen.

You were so desperate, so fucking needy. You needed an Alpha.

The dildo fell out of you with a pop as you stood on shaky legs, each step towards your bedside cabinet sending pleasured shocks up your spine. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you reached the one you needed.

‘Bucky 🤭🩵’

For a second you hovered over the call button, unsure if you should do it. But need prevailed and the ringing brought you back to reality.

“Hello?”

You almost moaned pathetically down the phone at the sound of his voice, thick with sleep deprivation and so fucking husky.

“B-Bucky…” you hadn’t thought this far, your brain was so fogged with need that you didn’t even stop to think about how you’d ask him for help. Bucky’s voice at the end of the line was quick to respond. You didn’t need to tell him a thing he could hear just how much you struggled.

“I’ll be over in 5”

You could’ve cum on the spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you bit your lip and clenched your thighs. You looked around your room, a mess of blankets and pillows arranged in a circle on your floor and in the centre, your dildo. You sunk to the floor, no longer able to stand as the waves were just too much. The hardwood hurt your hands and knees as you crawled into the centre of your nest but you couldn’t care.

You were finally getting help and you couldn’t have been happier with who it was.

Your cheek smooshed against one of the pillows as you lay waiting, your hips grinding into the air subconsciously. You were so wrapped up in your trance that you failed to hear the front door opening or the soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Look at you pretty ‘mega” Bucky drawled from behind you, his slate blue eyes boring into your core. A fresh wave of slick trickled from you at the sight of him, his smell infecting the air in a way that had you gulping down oxygen like you were starved of it.

You watched as he slipped his shirt over his head, dog tags jingling before resting on his sternum, his metal hand drifting down to unbuckle his belt. You took him in like he was a cold glass of water on a boiling hot day. He was the magic medicine to your ailment.

He wasted no time in pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor, his thick cock slapping against washboard abs. He was so much bigger than the toy you relied on, your brain fought with itself, wondering if you could even take a cock that size.

You’d come this far.

“How’d you want it pretty girl? Want me to fuck you like you are just now, on your hands and knees presented to me like a little slut. Maybe you want me to flip you over and pound you, let you watch me as I hit every little inch of that hot ‘mega cunt” he spoke, words dripping with lust.

“I don’t care please Alpha” You slipped, pushing your ass back to him, waving it enticingly as more slick dripped from your folds. You needed it now, none of the teasing.

“Alpha?” He questioned with a teasing smirk, sinking to his knees behind you and flipping you with ease onto your back.

Fuck looked beautiful all fucked out, your face wet with frustrated tears, your pupils so dilated you could barely see the colour. Your chest heaving causing your tits to bounce and that sopping pussy, pathetically clenching around nothing, silently begging for him to fill you, make you full with him and only him.

“What should I call you?” You blinked up at him, blushing lightly despite the fact you lay spread wide for him. You’d never called someone Alpha before, it just fell from your mouth in bliss. Insecurity bubbled up at the thought of maybe Bucky not wanting to be your Alpha, even for just a short period.

Your worries were all squashed when he lined his fat head up with your core, sinking fully in a single thrust.

“Alpha’s fine baby, now lemme fuck that omega brain dumb alright. You don’t gotta think anymore, your alpha will do that for you.”

Dominance radiated off him. The kind that made you want to submit, roll your head back and present your neck for him to mark, letting him claim you.

He slid out slowly, letting you feel every inch, every vein of his length until just his head remained buried inside you before he thrust forward again, his tip kissing your cervix.

His thrusts picked up at the sound of your heavenly sounds, your body arching up to meet him, to be as close to him as possible.

“Ohh fuck ‘mega, that pussy ain’t been fucked good in a long time huh, she’s sucking me back in, such greedy little cunt…so fucking tight…that’s alright though, your alpha’s got you now, won’t let that pussy go unsatisfied again” Bucky fell to his elbows, his nose bumping yours as you shared each other's air. Your legs spread underneath him as his hips pushed your thighs open further.

You couldn’t think. he was everywhere. A hand in your hair, his hot breath fanning over your face and neck, his dick filling you up. You were ruined for any other Alpha you just knew.

Sobs bounced off the walls, sounds you’d never heard before falling from your mouth. Your hands clung to him, wrapping around his back, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

Fuck you were so close, those coils tightening deep in your belly again, hot spikes of pleasure rolling up your spine, your cunt spewing your essence around him.

“Fuck ‘mega my fucking knots swelling already ohhh shit, my knot ain’t swelled this fast before” he laughed between guttural grunts, his teeth nipping your jawline.

“Mmmm Alpha” you heave, your pussy clenching him tightly.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna squirt around my fucking knot yeah? Oh fuck oh shit come on sweet omega, cum on my fucking dick.”

Your world went white when the swollen base of his cock pushed into you, stretching you wide, your preen stuck in your throat as your body convulsed with such an intense orgasm. Bucky rammed his whole weight into you a few more times before following suit, dumping his huge load inside your ruined cunt.

You don’t know when he rolled you over, his arms wrapping around you, your leg hooked over his hip. Your soft whines were the only indication that you hadn’t passed out, along with the look of sheer unbridled joy melting over your features. The softness and domestic nature of it all grounded Bucky. He didn’t feel regret like he thought he would, or guilt that he’d corrupted you

He felt at home.

“You did so good for me, pretty girl, don’t know anyone that’s taken my dick so good. Such a pretty little ‘mega” he praised, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Love you alpha” You forced despite your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth.

“I love you too princess, now get some rest alright? I’ll be here when you get up, then I’ll make you feel nice and good again.”

Bucky’s warm embrace and strong scent lulled you to sleep. A deep satisfied slumber that you hadn’t felt for months, a smile on your face.

I DO NOT give permission to have my work copied, translated or reposted. If you see my work anywhere else except on this page I have not given consent for it to be used.

Comments, Reblogs, Likes & Asks are always appreciated. They let me know that you are enjoying what you read and give me motivation to write more.

Thanks for reading~

[paulyenvol6]

No Worries In The World

Harry Castillo x f!reader

So I know the context of the kiss in the new trailer is totally different, but the way his lips crash against hers just did something to my brain and I had to write it as if they were in an argument. Enjoy :)

Contains: smut, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk, Harry and reader being down bad for each other, nicknames like princess and baby, some fighting in the beginning, angst, fluff, sweetness, talking of children, jealousy, possessiveness

Wordcount: 4,730

Masterlist

"Oh come on, you're not even gonna say anything about it?"

"What am I supposed to say? I told you already – "

"You told me nothing, Harry. What, did you not want me to find out about it?"

He sighed and god how you hated that sigh. It sounded like he was disappointed in you although he was the one that – "I didn't hide anything from you. I just didn't think it was necessary to mention it because it meant nothing to me. I forgot about it the second it happened."

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the corridor wall as the blood pounded in your ears, rumbling so loudly that you could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth. Tears were burning in your eyes and you wanted to blink them away so badly, not showing him how much he had hurt you, but at the same time, what did it matter? Perhaps you should just show him and make him feel awful.

"Why the fuck did you do it then? You could've waited 10 minutes and we could've danced. I – I just don't fucking get it."

Harry ran a hand through his curls and then approached you, his hands reaching for yours but you refused and lightly pushed against his knuckles to spare yourself the pain of his close presence.

"Baby," he said, waiting for you to give him your attention, but you were focused on fumbling with his hands so he would let go of you.

"Baby," he said again, louder this time and firmly squeezed your hand so you had no choice but to accept your fate and flash your eyes at him, showing your anger in a different way.

"I love you," he whispered which involuntarily made your heart flutter, but no, you wouldn't just let it slide because he happened to have such a pretty pair of brown puppy eyes and looked especially handsome in his suit tonight.

"You didn't answer my fucking question," you hissed, moving your hands that were still clasped in his until he eventually let go and sighed out as he took a step back.

"Jesus… I don't know. I don't know, she's an old friend and we talked for a bit and I liked the song that was playing so I asked her if she wanted to dance. As I said, we're old friends. Nothing more."

You angrily chewed on your bottom lip and although you wanted nothing more than to be hugged by him and forget this whole stupid thing, you just couldn't. You were hurt, and you knew that if you just pretended nothing had happened, you would go to sleep and wake up tomorrow with a bitter taste in your mouth, and this thing would haunt you until it finally caught up with you, eating you alive and making the inevitable fight even worse.

"We fucking met this way, Harry," you pressed through clenched teeth, pushing against his chest while you felt a single tear run down your cheek.

"Did you think for a second that it might hurt me to see you dance with a woman exactly the way we did six months ago? I thought that – that… I don't know that it was our fucking thing."

Your eyes painfully burned watching Harry rub over the lower half of his face, cursing something that you couldn't understand and then he straightened up, his jaw tense and his chest heavily rising.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you. We were dancing. I'm not going to stop dancing with any woman for the rest of my life because we met this way. I'm sorry that it hurt you and I don't know how many times you want me to say it, but it meant nothing to me."

You tilted your head and swallowed as you defiantly raised your chin and then hugged your own body with your arms.

"Then I think you're insensitive."

"What?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he put his hands on his hips.

"Yes. I'm asking you of something because it's fucking important to me and it wouldn't be a big deal for you to do me the favor."

You refused to let him doubt your statement, your head held high and your posture straight as you watched Harry sigh again, his nostrils flaring before he took a step towards you and suddenly pressed his lips to yours. It was messy and passionate, aggressive almost, but so heated that you kissed him back without thinking too much about it. He gently pressed you against the wall, his hands firm on your waist and a knee between your legs so you could rock your core against him while he devoured your mouth like it was the last time he could. And somehow your mind went blank. Somehow you were able to put all of your frustration and anger in the kiss.

He pressed his lips to yours with such force that his nose rubbed against yours, wrinkling and creasing as he seemed to be trying to reduce the distance between you until you melted together.

"Harry," you breathed, your hands at his shoulders. You tried to pull down his jacket, but by now your hands were shaking so you had problems gripping the fabric properly which evoked a quiet chuckle in him.

"Need my help?" he whispered, smirking as you stubbornly shook your head and eventually succeeded.

His jacket fell on the floor and was soon joined by your coat that Harry peeled off you with quick and skillfull hands. His lips were still on yours, the sound of teeth clashing agains teeth echoing against the high ceiling, the air around you thick with tension and you almost felt drunk on him. Drunk on his aftershave, on his familiar scent, his presence.

He rolled the fabric of your tight black dress between fingers, giving you a painful pre-taste of what was going to come, but you needed so much more. No thought was flickering behind your forehead, no urge to finally work out your conflict. Perhaps there was a part of you left that felt stubborn and defiant, your hands on his shoulders just a little bit rougher than usual, but you didn't care about talking anymore. What you wanted was to talk this through with your actions and his touch on your body.

Harry's wishes didn't seem to fully align with yours, as you soon figured. He made no attempt of stopping, but he didn't shut up neither.

"S'what you need, huh? Needed me to push you up against the wall to be satisfied, isn't that right?"

You moaned, but it sounded more like a cry and felt your eyelids flatter as he traveled down your chin and your neck until his hot breath lingered at your collarbone. You buried your hands in his hair, gently tucking, but Harry paid no attention to where you wanted him anyway. His touch was more determined than usual, more clear in what he wanted. Uncompromising, but you didn't mind at all.

"Tell me, baby," he whispered and moved his hands up until they were right below your breasts, lightly - like it was a test - brushing over the swell. "Tell me that you wanted this."

Your grip in his hair tightened, your head dropping back so it was comfortably resting against the wall and you could let Harry take full control.

"I… I fucking wanted this…," you said under breath, your voice higher than normal.

"Yeah? I just haven't given my princess enough attention, have I?"

He gently nibbled at your skin which sent shockwaves through your body and as time went by, your hold on your own feet progressively worsened, your knees weak and wobbly as Harry left wet kisses on your cleavage.

"Yes. I just… I missed you."

His next kiss was tender. It was a response to your complaint and you moaned in satisfaction when you felt his mouth trail a line up your neck until he stopped at your mouth again. Harry softly sucked in your bottom lip, creating divine pressure and goddamnit, he was just so good at it. Making you feel valuable and sexy and… seen.

Maybe that was the reason why seeing him dance with her had hurt you so much. He was always showering you with love and affection, his eyes on you at all times even if you were with a big group of people and now, if he didn't pay attention for a mere second you already felt neglected because it was such a grave contrast to his usual behavior.

"I'm sorry, princess," he murmured against your lip, causing you to whine in relief. "I know it's on me. I know it's 'cause I have to show my princess how much I love her all the time. Have to show her that she's the only one I care about 'cause otherwise she'd be sad."

He cupped your face, gently caressing the area under your eye.

"And I can't make my pretty girl sad."

Perhaps his words would have sounded mocking to anyone else, but a glance at his face told you how much he meant them. It told you that he was truly sorry for neglecting you and making you suffer, even if it was just a single tear you had shed.

"Fuck me," you breathed, becoming aware of the effect of your words when Harry's jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with sheer hunger.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes. Fuck me hard."

Before you could utter the last syllable, you shrieked as Harry grabbed your hips and lifted you into the air, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"Whatever my princess wants…," he whispered in the curve of your neck and then proceeded with covering every inch of skin he could reach with kisses.

You chuckled and giggled, your heels digging into his back as he carried you to his familiar bedroom where he carefully tossed you onto the bed and opened the first buttons of his shirt while you made yourself comfortable on your back. The silky fabric of the pillows felt cool and soft against your smoking head, and you felt that cosy, bubbling warmth in your belly that always appeared when you thought of all the magical things he was going to do to you.

"Don't move an inch," Harry whispered while carelessly throwing his shirt behind him and then moved to the edge of the bed, kneeling on it with one knee and giving you this mischievous, yet soft smile.

"You look so pretty like this, babygirl."

You shrieked in surprise when he grabbed your ankles and pulled you a little towards the edge of the bed, then climbed onto the bed and hovered over you with one knee between your legs. You giggled and writhed, your body screaming for him and your insides dancing with joy as you not only had a perfect view of his toned chest, but felt the anticipation crashing over you like a magnificent wave ready to swallow you whole.

"I need you," you breathed and put your hands on his shoulders.

"And I need you." He leaned in to kiss you and while you were still getting used to the weight with which his lips crashed against yours, he was already fumbling with the zip of your dress at your back, pulling it down painfully slowly and making you whine in frustration, yearning for a cooling brush of cold air across your body that seemed to be in flames just by his mere presence.

Eventually he redeemed you though and pulled your black dress over your shoulder and then down your body, his hands not shy to follow a trail down your front until the piece of clothing was gathered up around your knees. Now that he had access to more skin he drew backwards, releasing your lips with a plop and took in your bare front that wasn't covered by a bra which caused Harry to hum in satisfaction.

"You're a dream. My perfect princess," he whispered, his eyes cloudy as he seemed to be mesmerized by the sight.

"Should've never even just looked at anyone else at the party. You're the only one I care about anyway."

He pressed wet kisses on the swell of your breasts and each felt like a promise. His beard created delicious friction against your sensitive skin and soon your breathing went in hitches, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest and your mouth agape as you bent your neck to stare down to him.

Now his lips were around your nipples, tracing the outline with the top of his tongue and knowing how much you liked it, he occasionally carefully took them between his teeth until you squirmed away and he released them with a wet noise. But he always made sure not to neglect your other breast that wasn't taken care of by his mouth; when his tongue worked on your left breast, his hand kneaded and toyed with the right so that you were soon overwhelmed with sharp and sweet pleasure, sometimes bordering on pain in the best way possible.

"Harry," you whispered, your hands in his hair and your legs closing around his broad torso. "Please, Harry… fuck, I need more."

He gently nibbled at your skin, careful, so it wouldn't sting too badly, but with enough force so it might leave a mark.

"Where do you need it, huh? Is your sweet little pussy aching for me? Does she need me to take care of 'er?"

You threw your head to the side, your body buckling when Harry pressed his knee against your center with more intensity so that you felt pressure on your clit.

"Yes. Yes, I need it," you panted and gasped when he slipped a hand between your legs, cupping your pussy and rubbing his palm against your throbbing clit through the fabric of your panties. In the force and eagerness with which he had done it, you sensed that he was struggling to hold back himself, his grip on your pussy firm like he didn't just want to make you feel good, but claim you and that very part of your body.

"Mhmm… There you go. Let me hear you, princess. Let me hear how good it feels."

A croaked moan left your throat and you closed your legs around his wrist as if you wanted to trap his hand between your thighs.

"Please. Please, feels so good, Harry."

Your underwear was soaked and you could hear it in the damp sound his skin made against your wet panties, but Harry was soon to comment on it anyway.

"You're soaked, princess. You need it that badly?" he whispered against your earlobe, his left hand coming up to cradle your face while you struggled to bring out an intelligent sentence.

"Yes. I really want you, Harry, please…"

Your lips formed a pout as you arched on the bed, pressing yourself against his broad body and wrapping a possessive arm around his neck.

"You're mine," you whimpered and although it didn't sound very dominant with your quiet and weak voice, you had meant every part of it. In response your boyfriend lowly chuckled and leaned in to capture your lips in a deep but slow kiss.

"Someone's gotten a little jealous tonight, right? I didn't know this side of you, baby."

He pulled away to caress the corner of your mouth where a small drop of drool leaked out and you bit your lips, your eyes flashing and your chest heaving rapidly under his play on your pussy.

"You're mine. No one else's. I want you to show me."

Harry's lips twisted and he lovingly brushed your hair back until his hand came to a stop on your temple.

"You want me to show me that I'm yours, babygirl?"

"Yes," you moaned and gently tucked on some of his strands of baby hair in the back of his neck.

Harry gave you a wry grin and then, faster than you could react, you were on your stomach, letting out a loud gasp. You felt two large hands lift your hips until you were forced to support yourself on your hands and knees, your dimples protruding as you turned your head to look over your shoulder and meet Harry's gaze.

He was on his knees as well, and now gently slapped your bottom before running the palm of his hand over the area that was beginning to redden.

"You look so goddamn pretty like this. What am I even saying, you always look pretty, and I still can't believe I'm that lucky…," Harry whispered, running a hand from the crease of your ass up your back to your neck where he gently combed through your hair.

He looked almost dreamy as he watched your back and then snapped back to reality. He pulled your underwear down with swift and trained hands until the fabric was around your knees, following your dress, and then parted your knees and stepped closer to you, the fabric of his pants creating a cool contrast to your heated skin.

Another slap landed on your ass and you let out a whimper, your body jerking forward while Harry already comforted you and then you finally heard the clank of his belt and you knew it was a matter of seconds now until you would finally be filled by him. You bit your lips, staring ahead of you in anticipation and then almost whined in relief as he ran his tip through your folds, smearing your wetness all over your dripping cunt and sighing when you arched your back.

"Jesus… honey…. You don't know what you're doing to me…"

"Please Harry. Please, I need it so badly."

Your hands closed around the bedsheets when you felt his tip circling your entrance, your whole body tense and ready to take him in if only he would finally give it to you –

"Fuck!"

Your head dropped, your forehead hitting the mattress and your nerves prickling as your body adjusted to his length. Harry was far from being small and although you were more than wet and he had fucked you more times than you could count, there was a slight stretch every time, especially when he entered you in one go. You focused on your breathing, your pulse loud in every part of your body and then you turned your head as Harry ran a hand over your shoulder blades.

"Are you alright, princess? Need a moment? Or do you want me to pull out and prepare you with my fingers?"

Tears welled in your eyes only that it wasn't from the pain, but his sweet words, the fact that you knew you could always rely on him and that he would always take care of you. God, how you loved him.

"No. You can move, I'm fine," you answered and prepared yourself to feel his thick cock moving inside of you, but you frowned as it still didn't happen. Instead Harry caressed the curve of your ass, his fingers drawing tight circles on top of your skin.

"Gonna give you a moment just in case, okay? Sorry, maybe I went a little too harsh and should've made you cum on my fingers first."

Without turning your head you shook it and blindly reached behind you for his hand or his wrist or in fact any body part of his. You heard him laugh, a deep and low sound and then he grabbed your hand and squeezed it before he carefully pulled himself out of you. You regretted it immediately, your knees shaking as you wanted nothing more than to feel every single vein of his cock and fortunately Harry didn't hesitate when he thrusted back in although he was much slower this time.

"Oh fuck," you hissed nevertheless, your fingers clenching around the sheets and so did your pussy when you felt Harry's tight grip on your hip.

"Fucking christ… You feel perfect. You're perfect. So good to me, princess, fuck…"

He now started to fuck you at a steady pace, his hips and balls slapping against you with each thrust, while his hand on your hip made sure to pull you back to him. Soon his free hand moved from your ass up to your head to draw your hair into a makeshift ponytail and to use it as leverage while he picked up the pace.

"Nghhh fuck, Harry," you whimpered and shut your eyes as he repeatedly hit your cervix with his huge cock.

Your reactions were music to his ears and to enhance them and elicit more of your sweet noises, he glided a hand between your legs to rub your clit that was stiff and swollen, throbbing as it had awaited the rough pat of Harry's finger.

"Yeah there you go… My sweet princess only deserves the best, doesn't she? Wanna make you cum all over me until you believe me when I say that I'm yours and I only wanna dance with you at any party. You hear me, honey?"

He lightly tucked at your ponytail, his teeth gritting as he bent his back to come closer to your ear.

"I love you and I don't want you to ever worry about that again. I don't want you to have a single worry in the world."

You loudly moaned and that was the moment your arms gave away and you dropped head first on the bed. Harry scoffed and stroked the back of your head before flipping you onto your back again, your eyes popping open as he did so.

"It's alright, I got you," Harry whispered as he adjusted your body.

He parted your legs again and removed the sweaty hair out of your face before slamming back into your exhausted body, his thumb on your clit again after you had rolled your hips in a desperate attempt to fight the pulsing tension in your pussy.

"You wanna cum for me? Wanna make me real happy?"

"Yes," you replied, your legs spread wide for him and your hands in his neck again to toy with his hair.

"Please," you murmured, pulling him closer to you until you sighed in enjoyment feeling his lips on your chin. "I wanna cum so badly. But I wanna cum with you. Please. Need it inside."

Harry's eyes darted up to you, a suspicious and concerned sparkle in them, but there was also something excited and disbelieving.

"I don't know if we should…," he whispered, watching you precisely to judge whether you were too fucked out to act responsibly, but not slowing down either.

"Please, Harry. Give it to me, I… Maybe I wanna… Why not take the risk, it wouldn't be the worst thing, right?"

His teeth sank down on his lower lip, blind and profane desire clouding his mind, but he had to act rationally now.

"Picture me carrying your child, honey," you whispered and took his face in your hands while panting heavily at the tight circles he drew over your clit.

"Picture me all round with your child. Your child, Harry. Wouldn't you like that? You would be reminded that I'm yours every moment of your life 'cause I'd be living proof that you knocked me up. That you fucked me hard and deep and everyone would see it. Everyone would know that I'm yours."

Fuck it. The thought flickered behind Harry's forehead for brief second and while you were still pleadingly glaring up to him, he had already made his choice. Maybe he was just way too fucked out to act responsibly too, but what did it matter now? The thought of filling you up and getting you pregnant, his cum so deep inside your perfect warm pussy that would suck his seed in, your belly round with his child...

He let out an animalistic growl and then came so hard, it knocked all the air out of his lungs and made his head spin. Harry could only hear your own squeal from a distance, white lights dancing across his vision as ropes of cum spurted from the tip, filling you to the brim. He grunted again, sweat pooling on his forehead that was slowly running down his temple and then he looked down at you, who was just coming down from the aftermath of your high.

"Harry," you whimpered and rested your brow against his broad shoulder.

"I know, princess," he panted, his hand reaching behind your head to cradle it, but he couldn't hold himself up on his elbows much longer and gently lay you down while burying his face in the soft skin beneath your ear.

"Oh jesus… You're so amazing," he praised you and ran a hand up and down your arm to calm your rapid panting.

"You did so wonderful. So, so perfect, my beautiful princess."

Your hands grasped at his bicep, your body completely flat and powerless under his weight as the two of you slowly began to realise the possible consequences of your actions. Had the two of you been careless? Had it been stupid? Harry didn't feel that way, but he had to check in to see whether you felt the same.

"So…," he started once he had lifted his head again and now drew soothing patterns over your cheek with his thumb.

"Were you serious with what you just said?" he asked, a little smile lingering on his lips that you were happy to return.

"Yeah. I mean I think so, I don't regret it right now. Do you?"

"No I don't," he truthfully answered and propped himself on his knee so he wouldn't crash you beneath the weight of his body.

"But I mean, if you change your mind, I can go to the pharmacy and get the morning after pill, all you have to do is say the word, baby."

You chuckled and connected your hand with the side of his face.

"I don't think I will. If that's what you want too."

"It's what I want. I love you and I love this between us. And I think these are the best conditions to have a child, right?"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, making you feel like you had just run a marathon. But Harry wasn't done yet.

"And I wanna see you happy. I don't know, princess, but I think it's become my life's obsession. Making you happy and giving you anything you want. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't want you to have a single worry in the world. It's all I want and it's all I'm ever gonna want. Making you happy and making you smile and loving you."

His voice was so incredibly low, but it was enough. It was enough to make the butterflies in your stomach do somersaults, enough to make you feel as if you were drunk with love, and to make your pulse race into infinity.

"I love you, Harry," you answered and although you felt that you had to say more and express how much you loved and appreciated and needed him in every detail, Harry already seemed content with your answer. Maybe it was better that way because you believed once you started telling him you wouldn't be able to stop.

He kissed the corner of your mouth sloppily, both of you too exhausted and tired to seal your confessions with a deep kiss, but it didn't matter. You understood each other blindly and giggled as Harry crawled off you and lay down next to you.

He instantly reached for you and you were happy to snuggle up against his side, his arms sliding around your back to hold you close while you rested your head on his chest. That way you could listen to his steady heartbeat, your eyes closing as the purest form of contentment and happiness flooded your system.

"I love you," you whispered again, already close to drifting off to sleep, but you still heard his answer.

"And I love you, princess. So, so much."

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. soft smut, unprotected sex, feelings, hurt and comfort, dbf, etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia 🤍

The odd comfort you felt when his thick arms locked themselves around you as you ran to him. Tears staining your warm cheeks as you cried. A low groan escaped him as you captured his eyes with your own. “Did you break up with your boyfriend?” you nodded lying your cheek on his chest. His large palm coming up to caress the middle of your back coaxing you close letting you cry. “I normally don’t care about this shit but I care for you little one, now tell me who hurt you so badly?” Thumb coming to rest on your cheek as you peeked up to look at him. “He said I’m not good enough.” Another low groan left his chest. “Bullshit. You’re more than enough princess.” - Mr Howlett has been around you everytime you got hurt. He was that kind of a man who would tape your heart together whenever it got broken by some guy who really wasn’t worth all your tears. “You think so?” A soft nod was only his answer.

“Now you could’ve called a taxi, M’busy ya know?” He leaned against the side of his Chrysler still letting you hug him and cling to him. Your dad has been a good friend with him and frankly Logan was well known to your family and you known him pretty well. “I’m sorry” you straightened yourself and sighed rubbing your chest where your heart hurt. “Your hugs are my medicine” the older man softly smirked. “Are they now? Get in. I’ll drive ya home” opening the passenger door on his limo you got in. The age gap was atrocious but hell you didn’t care he was better to spend time with and to talk to then any of your friends. He never judged, mostly remained quiet whenever you would just spill endless word sentences listening to you. Giving you hugs, making you feel like a human being. You were something extraordinary to him, a young woman. And he was only an old man who got grumpy whenever kids your age just annoyed the fuck out of him but never you. He could listen to you for days and gaze at your beauty. You were so beautiful and it was strange… why would you find comfort in such an old man who drunk way too much. Seeing the empty bottles in his limo as he drove through busy city street. Sniffling wiping your nose you found yourself touching his wrist. His hand was so big compared to yours “What’s wrong now?” Groaning low and soft the old man took a turn onto the highway. He drove with one hand keeping his other hand tangled with yours- “Your hand is so big..” whispering before seeing him half smile but remaining silent.

“Stop here” you breathed, squeezing his hand. Parking on the side of the empty route near El Paso - his lights shut off too. Undoing your seatbelt climbing to his lap straddling him- “hey hey.. not good kid” touching your thighs with his calloused palms you buried your face against his neck taking in his scent. Closing your eyes inhaling sliding your arms around his torso “don’t do this princess” soothing over your back his fingers touching some of your hair and the back of your neck. You ignored the way he spoke, he was a little breathless. “You can have men your age, I’m just an old fucking man. Get off me” he tried to but instead of getting off him you planted soft kisses on his neck. The side of it taking a whiff of his peppery cologne which danced in your nostrils. “Don’t fight it I want you so much” you finally confessed. “I can’t-” he held you in his arms wrapping them around you. The moment you began to pull out his button up out of his pants he grabbed your wrists “don’t- you don’t want this princess” nodding biting your lip “yeah- I do. I want you. My heart is only healed when I’m with you” closing his eyes as you undid his belt and pulled down the zipper on his pants. “Tired of getting my heart broken. You’re a real man” you licked your lower lip revealing his semi hard length.

Lifting your hips settling your panties aside looking at him hovering your needy core over his length slowly guiding it in you. He groaned touching your hips in his hands. Your face fell against his chest as you slid all the way down to the base of him. “Fuck..” cussing through his teeth your arms hung themselves around his neck. “Boys my age are not men” you cried softly. “Fuck” touching your shoulder as the other hand remained on your hip the older man started to guide you back and forth on his cock which seemed to grow hard and warmer in your wet pussy. “Shit..” tipping your head back Logan growled “You want to be my little girlfriend? My little woman huh? Fucking an old man so willingly” suddenly he was filthy worded. “Yes!” You sped up your hips arching your back bouncing up and down holding his shoulders never letting go. Logan guided you holding your ass cheek firmly slightly rising his hips meeting your sensual riding. Your thighs burned as you started to fuck him faster. Your pussy asking and drooling for more of his cock since the stretch was almost painful but so delicious. Every vein of his length pleases your ridged walls hugging him tight. Both moaning in unison- looking into each other’s eyes. It was the most intimate, the most filthiest yet the warmness in your heart travelled down into your core as you clenched around him. “M’cumming…!” The band in your belly snapped and you soaked his cock, Logan grunted violently snapping his hips up into you before stilling moaning under his breath releasing the warmness in you spurting very drop of his cum in your womb. “Shit.. oh fuck..” he breathed his heart nearly jumping out of his chest as he leaned his forehead against yours. You mewled going limp after your orgasm, moaning at the slightest touch. Remaining on his cock, you both rested kissing softly. “Mine..” he breathed soothing your hair with his fingers. “Yours”

-

Apologies for any grammatical mistakes! 🤍

[yandere-romanticaa]

Low key building upon this post. Why? Because it was originally supposed to be more smutty but I'm a chicken who can't write smut, so I tried dipping my toes here. Nothing too extreme mind you, I'm still a big baby. Sue me. This was also written in a cafe in like, under 20 minutes so...

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

That mantra has been inside of your head for months now, ever since the bastard hunter took you. In some strange way, he did somewhat keep that promise and that made you feel so damn bitter. Kinich only really forced you to do the utmost basic necessities to keep you sane and alive - nothing more, nothing less.

He was still the same old Kinich you knew. Nothing was free of charge. The only reason why he still kept you around was because it made him feel good, or so he liked to remind you every so often.

That was precisely why the current predicament you were in was so damn bizarre.

Kinich panted beneath you, his eyes widened in shock as the faintest outline of blush dusted his cheeks, his shoulders quivering ever so slightly as you held him tightly on the bed. His arms found your hips and swiftly settled there, occasionally groping the soft skin whenever the opportunity arose.

Never in his wildest dreams could Kinich have predicted that you would ever greet him home like this.

Practically giving him no room to breathe, he was pounced on like a hunter does to its prey, giving him absolutely zero time to react. Your movements were desperate and clumsy but he did not care, not when everything felt so damn good. Kinich stared at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze seeping with exhaustion but want, so much so that he was inclined to gently nibble on your lower lip, which he gladly did.

A small noise escaped you, a silly mixture between a whimper and a cry but to Kinich's ears, it felt as though the gates of heaven had been opened.

Slipping his tongue in, he swiftly sealed your lips with his own, your own saliva and spit merging with his in some sort of flimsy but erotic dance. It was messy, he noted as he felt the spit gently trailing down his cheek, which he did not care about whatsoever. Your touch was hotter than the sun and it set his whole body ablaze with a lust which he had never felt before.

Was it normal for a person to want another this badly?

It most likely was not, Kinich reasoned. But that same reason was thrown out the fucking window once he felt your hips being pressed into his own, grinding ever so lightly against him. It was sudden but good, more than plain old good actually.

Kinich could hear your pants but chose not to pay attention to them. He was going to fight you on this for as long as he could, he was never going to stop kissing you if he could have his way.

Even so, Kinich himself felt his lungs burning for sweet air, but his heart was beating straight out of his chest and his mind was in tatters.

He cannot let you go. Not when you finally had given into him.

With his brute strength, Kinich broke free from your hold and roughly grabbed you by the waist, switching places that now you were the one who was pinned. He broke the kiss, finally, and slowly brought his arm up to his face, wiping away the spit off his lips. He stared down at you in a frenzy as he took the sight in - eyes screwed shut with a pained look on your face, heavy pants leaving your lips as you desperately tried to regain your composure but kept utterly failing each time.

It was so damn cute, he muttered wistfully.

Ever the opportunist, Kinich dove back down once more, his lips on yours again. One hand kept your arms pinned above your head while the other was lowered down towards your shirt, his skilled fingers ripping the fabric off. You yelped beneath him, not expecting the sudden force but that was alright too.

It simply added on to the cuteness.

Kinich felt himself growing harder by the second, his pants becoming more and more uncomfortable. He lost count with how many nights he had wasted away daydreaming about this exact moment - you, on his bed, stuffed full of his cock as his name was chanted like a sick love spell, over and over and over - let the whole valley hear, heck, let absolutely every human and beast hear who was making you feel so good. Your pleasure was officially in his hands now and there was no turning back now.

That was the initial idea, at least.

"HEY, HEY! What do you two freaks think you're doing?!"

Ajaw's shrill scream rang throughout the entire hut, its body now a mixture of bright orange and angry red, its tiny arms raised as high as they could be as it continued to complain.

"Kinich! I knew you were a freak but this crosses the line, even for YOU !" yelled the tiny dragon creature, its sharp gaze now stuck on you both.

"Sick perverts! How dare you subject the Mighty Dragon Lord to such an uncouth sight!"

Ajaw continued to complain over and over again as Kinich slowly distanced himself from you. He still lay there on top of you, albeit with his back fully straight now as his gaze became hollow. You could not tell if he was trying to tune out Ajaw or if he was listening intently but that question would be answered soon enough.

Still loudly complaining, Ajaw continued to prattle on and on, forcing Kinich to let out a very long and frustrated sigh. With a cool gaze Kinich raised his arm slightly in the air, his back still turned towards Ajaw as he made the "come here" motion with his finger. The tiny dragon obliged, thinking that his servant was going to give him a proper apology which he rightfully deserved - only to be met with the harshest smack across the head he had ever felt.

The impact was so loud that it echoed loudly across the entire room. Ajaw landed on the ground, dazed entirely and just stayed there, not making a sound. Still on top of you, Kinich lazily checked the ground to see where Ajaw had landed, and once he was satisfied with the findings, Kinich nodded to himself, his entire focus being shifted back towards you. With an outstretched arm, he placed a hand at the back of your head and gave your neck a soft but determined kiss. From the corner of your eye, you could see the faint outlines of the marks on his body beginning to glow but you did not know why, nor did you bother to ask.

Your body felt a little lighter as Kinich got up, the entire bed suddenly so much more free and cozy. Grabbing the hem of the blanket felt like the right thing to do, which you did. Kinich stood by the bed and watched you for a few seconds, his palm pressing your head down towards the pillow as he tucked you in.

"You did good tonight." he praised softly.

"I'll make sure to be a little nicer towards you. After all, how could I not be after tonight?" said Kinich with a snort, his lips forming into a smug smirk. You growled under your breath, frustrated to see your captor see so damn happy but you knew that in the long run, this was the best thing to do. A happy Kinich was a good Kinich.

It just made things easier. And that was the stone cold truth.

With a light pep in his step, Kinich walked towards the exit, grabbing his jacket along the way.

"I'll be out late tonight, commission. If Ajaw hadn't interrupted... I would have completely forgotten about it."

His tone was flat but cool, low key signaling that he was indeed telling the truth. Saying nothing, you covered your head with the fuzzy blanket and heard Kinich laugh under his breath one last time before leaving you to your own devices.

Times like these felt perfect for an escape attempt but experience had taught you well. No matter how far you went, Kinich would just track you down and bring you back by the ear if he had to.

He definitely had the monster like strength to do so.

With a huff you closed your eyes, blushing a little as you felt the pleasurable heat down your body, causing your legs to press themselves shut on instinct. The best thing to do now was to get some rest, nothing more, nothing less. The day had been long and draining, which only added to your sleepiness. In less than a few minutes darkness had taken over, your mind and body completely shut off from the rest of the world.

Meanwhile on the ground next to you, Ajaw quickly opened one eye and kept an ear out. Once he realized that you were fast asleep, only one thing could be said.

"Darn it."

[katnipp]

when summer ends— daniela avanzini

genre: ANGSTTT

synopsis: y/n and daniela loved each other but broke up badly. years later, something catastrophic brings them back and they have to deal with their feelings again

—

every summer, the avanzini family came in a black suv that didn’t belong on cracked country roads. they stayed in the same house on the hill — tall shutters, long porch, white hydrangeas, and a view of the lake that made people whisper, “they must be rich.”

y/n never cared about them. not until the summer daniela arrived.

she was sixteen, all legs and temper, rolled out of the car with an eye-roll and sunglasses too big for her face. her mom kissed her cheek in front of the neighbors. daniela shoved her off.

“god, i hate it here,” she said loud enough for the whole street to hear.

“we get it,” y/n muttered from the porch next door, not looking up from her book.

daniela turned. paused. stared.

and that’s how it started.

⸻

the summer stretched out in gold and heat. y/n showed her the lake. the sunflower field. the crumbling train tracks no one used anymore. daniela complained the whole time. said it was boring. lame. stupid.

but she kept showing up. every day.

she stole peaches from the fruit stand just to make y/n chase her. she asked too many questions. she fell asleep on y/n’s shoulder once and didn’t apologize.

and one night, under the stars by the lake, she kissed her like it was an accident.

“sorry,” she said, pulling back.

“do it again,” y/n whispered.

and she did.

⸻

they didn’t talk about what they were. they just were.

every summer after that, it was them. three years in a row. daniela would arrive like a hurricane, all noise and perfume, and y/n would act like she wasn’t waiting — even though she always was.

they held hands under picnic tables. danced at the county fair. argued like they were an old married couple.

“we should run away,” daniela whispered once, head on y/n’s chest.

“and go where?”

“anywhere. anywhere but here.”

but she never meant it.

⸻

when they were nineteen, it changed.

daniela was getting offers. dance scholarships. touring auditions. her name in lights. she wanted to leave.

“come with me,” she said one night in the attic of the lakehouse, her suitcase half-zipped and her perfume sharp in the air.

“you know i can’t,” y/n replied, arms crossed, trying to hold herself together.

“why not?”

“my mom’s sick. the bookstore’s barely holding on. this is my life.”

daniela laughed — short and bitter.

“what life? running that dusty little shop like it’s your purpose? waiting for your mom to die so you can keep living in her shadow?”

“don’t say that.”

“i’m being honest. you never want more. you never fight for anything—”

“i fought for you,” y/n snapped, voice breaking. “i’ve been here every summer waiting for you like some—some dog hoping you’d throw a bone.”

“oh, please. don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

“daniela.”

“no, you know what? maybe i outgrew this. you. you’re pathetic, y/n. stuck in this dead-end town, clinging to a fantasy. it’s embarrassing.”

y/n took a step back.

“do you even hear yourself right now?”

“i wasted three years on you,” she hissed, eyes sharp and cruel. “i could’ve had real relationships. a real life. and instead i’m stuck replaying summer flings with someone who doesn’t even have the guts to leave their porch.”

“you don’t mean that,” y/n whispered.

but daniela was already shaking. already crying. already hurting.

“i don’t even know why i ever loved you.”

and that was when she slapped her.

hard.

the room cracked open like a ribcage. y/n didn’t speak. just stared, hand to her cheek, like if she stood still long enough this wouldn’t be real.

daniela’s chest was heaving.

“say something,” she said, voice cracking.

“there’s nothing left to say.”

she turned. y/n didn’t stop her. and when the door slammed, it felt permanent.

the silence she left behind was louder than anything she’d ever screamed.

⸻

three years passed.

y/n stayed. ran the bookstore. took care of her mom. watched the seasons roll by like ghosts.

she never dated again. never kissed anyone. never stopped loving daniela, not even when she hated her.

the avanzini house stayed empty for three summers. and then it wasn’t.

y/n saw the suv first. heard the voices.

then — daniela.

older. softer. beautiful in a new way.

but she wasn’t alone.

a man stepped out first. tall. handsome. clearly wealthy.

then a little girl. curly hair, big brown eyes.

“mommy, look!” the child shouted, pointing at a bird.

daniela laughed — the same laugh.

y/n froze on the sidewalk.

and the photo in her hand crumpled.

⸻

she got in the car. didn’t think. didn’t breathe.

the road twisted through the trees. lake shimmered in the corner of her eye. memories clung to the wind.

she gripped the wheel. tears blurred the windshield.

“you always said you wanted a daughter with my eyes,” she whispered. “guess you changed your mind.”

she pulled out her phone. hit record.

“i saw you today,” her voice shook. “you looked happy. you have a little girl. she’s beautiful.”

“you got everything you wanted. and i…”

silence.

“i’m sorry, dani. i never stopped. loving you. missing you.”

“but i’m glad you’re okay.”

she never pressed send.

she didn’t see the light turn red.

she didn’t see the truck coming.

but daniela did.

⸻

she was across the street. holding her daughter’s hand. her husband pointing at some store window.

and then — the screech. the metal. the world tipping sideways.

daniela turned just in time to see the impact. y/n’s car spinning. smoke rising. glass everywhere.

“no,” she whispered.

“NO.”

she ran.

people shouted. her husband grabbed her arm. she tore away.

“y/n?” she screamed. “Y/N!”

the car was crumpled. the windshield caved in. y/n’s head slumped to the side.

daniela fell to her knees.

“baby, no. no no no no— please stay with me.”

“don’t do this. don’t you dare leave me.”

paramedics pulled her back. her hands were covered in blood. her dress soaked. she didn’t care.

⸻

at the hospital, she waited.

her daughter was home with her parents. her husband sat across from her. silent. confused.

daniela clutched a hoodie they handed her — torn, bloodstained.

inside was a folded letter. yellowed from time.

“i think a part of me always knew i’d never be enough for you. but you were always enough for me.”

“you were my beginning and my end. and i think i was just your summer.”

daniela broke.

she slid to the floor. gasping.

her husband knelt beside her. touched her back,“daniela— who was that?”

she whispered, “the love of my life.”

—

a/n: this is how i imagine y/n waiting for daniela (i basically took inspiration from the notebook)

[guiltyandashamed]

headcannons: MC who is easily flustered (side characters edition)

You can't help yourself. The slightest teasing remark, accidental brush of fingers, eye contact that lasted just a bit too long, and your face is red, your fidgeting with you hands, and your fighting to avert your gaze. The side characters can't get enough of you (and you can't get enough of them).

Diavolo

He’s delighted. Your reactions are like candy to him, so sincere, so entertaining, so different from the world he usually inhabits. The first time your face turned red when he called you “adorable,” he lit up like a kid discovering a new game. Now he tests your limits daily: “I dreamed about you last night.” “Careful, you’ll make me fall for you.” Each line is said with a booming laugh and a sparkle in his eyes. Just his mere presence is enough to unravel you. He loves leaning down to ‘hear’ you better, he watches how you squirm and back away and it makes him smile. He doesn’t mean to fluster you too badly, but he finds it hard to stop. You’ve become his favorite kind of fun.

Barbatos

You thought he was too composed to tease. Then came the subtle comments, delivered with a straight face and a cup of tea. “You look quite undone today. Did something... ruffle you?” He never outright smirks, but there's always the ghost of amusement dancing behind his eyes. Watching you try to pull yourself together around him is…mesmerizing. He finally understands everyone else's adoration of you. He files away your tells (the shaky breath, the twitch of your fingers) like treasured notes for future use.

Solomon

It’s a scientific curiosity to him at first. The way you unravel at a wink? Fascinating. He tries different strategies—compliments, suggestive tones, “accidentally” brushing your hand. Once, he whispered something in your ear and watched you sputter so badly you dropped your D.D.D. He laughed out loud. Now it’s a full-on experiment. “How red can I get you today?” he wonders aloud. He’s smug about it, yes, but he’s also completely enchanted by you.

Simeon

He’s genuinely concerned at first. “Are you alright? You’re warm—are you sick?” It takes a while for him to realize that it’s not illness, it’s him. That smile, that gentle voice, the way he praises you, it’s too much. And once he understands? He’s flustered too. Every time you flush or avert your eyes, he feels the heat rise in his own cheeks. He never teases on purpose, but he does look at you a little longer now. Lingers a little closer. He may be an angel, but your reactions bring out something undeniably human in him.

Mephistopheles

He lives for it. He pretends it’s beneath him, waving a hand dismissively when your face goes red. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, nose in the air. But the next moment, he’s teasing you in that smug, aristocratic tone. He wants you off-balance. He loves when you stutter his name or freeze under his gaze. “Honestly, you make it too easy,” he’ll say, sipping wine like he’s done nothing wrong. But if anyone else makes you flustered? He’s immediately in a sour mood.

Raphael

At first, he doesn’t react at all. Your flushed cheeks, your darting eyes, the way you stammer through a sentence, it barely gets a blink out of him. “You’re easily overwhelmed,” he states flatly, as if he’s diagnosing a mild cold. But you notice it’s always followed by a longer pause before he continues. He watches you, quiet and unreadable. You'll fluster yourself imagining what he’s thinking because he never tells you. But now and then, you’ll catch something: the subtle twitch of a smirk he doesn’t mean to show, a tilt of his head as you fumble your words, a rare, dry comment like, “You’re turning red again,” without even looking up.

Thirteen

You’ve become her favorite toy. She lives to fluster you. Teasing? Constant. Physical proximity? Weaponized. She’ll slink in behind you while you're talking and whisper “Boo,” then grin when you turn five shades of red. She pretends to be scandalous on purpose, saying things like “I had a dream about you last night—should I tell you what happened?” in front of everyone. But she’s careful not to cross lines. She likes seeing you squirm, not genuinely upset. And if someone else teases you and makes you look genuinely uncomfortable? Suddenly, she’s not smiling anymore.

[florencebirdsong]

Bent Over

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: joining in on Agatha and Rio's special brand of foreplay is just like flipping a coin

Tags:  breeding kink, dubcon, strap referred to as cock, biting, light scratching, manhandling, slight boot humping, light degradation,  implied pain kink, oral, overstimulation, Sir Rio, Mistress Agatha, switch Rio, mommy Agatha, toy Reader, pet names - good girl, dirty girl, pet

She/her pronouns used to refer to R (sorry it’s not the usual they/them I was leaning diff when writing)

Words: 3,783

masterlist | ao3

Authors note: fr wish the world would stop kicking me in my nonexistent balls but at least this one shot is finally here! Ignore the placeholder name that stuck ahshdjdjd I lowkey like it now. Also, this is the witches road Rio, not soft baby or crashing out Rio.

Note: Agatha much prefers having the most power at any moment than winning. Rio’s referring to one specific event to get under Agatha’s skin 💞

You trail in curiously after Rio. She stalked to Agatha’s office with the clear intention to bother her. Something that will either end really well or really badly for you.

Rio has Agatha’s attention instantly but she decides to play it oblivious. Like the tension in the room isn’t rising by the second. Rio prowls around the walls of the room, pretending to look at the artefacts scattered about the shelves. You linger by the door, just in case this turns into a genuine fight and not the foreplay you’re expecting.

Rio knocks an intricate…statue thing off the shelf. You have no idea what is it but it shatters when it hits the ground. You wish you knew. Its importance would tell you which end on the fight-foreplay spectrum they’re currently dancing in.

“Is there something you needed?” Agatha asks, sounding very unimpressed.

“You couldn’t tell?”

“No. I assumed Death, a cosmic entity, would be capable of using her words when she wants something.”

“I much prefer using my tongue.”

“That is what you use to make words, dear,” she says before she concedes, “In this form, anyway.”

Rio flashes her skull face and you swallow. It’s been a while since you’ve played in that form and the tease has you clenching your thighs together.

“Is there a reason why you’ve come to bother me?” Agatha asks.

“I’m not allowed to spend time with my dearest love?” Rio finally prowls towards Agatha’s desk.

“Don’t be rude,” Agatha tsks and flicks her fingers at you.

Rio turns slowly to look at you. You stay very still. She crooks a finger and you cautiously approach her. If she didn’t want you in the room you wouldn’t be.

She gently cups your face in her hands and it’s more nerve wracking than comforting. She studies your expression as she scans your face.

“Did I hurt your feelings?”

It’s not said with the mocking sympathy that would come from Agatha in this situation. Your eyes flicker towards her but Rio is too close for you to see past her.

“No,” you say simply.

She gives you another considering look. You wonder how much your emotions differ from Agatha and if Rio finds it hard to understand your own. You reach up to cradle her wrist but you barely move before you find yourself on Agatha’s desk. It happens so fast you don’t have time to catch yourself.  Rio’s claws land between your shoulder blades and slams you down. It doesn’t hurt as much as it should, although the shock of the impact still flows through you.

“Play nice,” Agatha admonishes like she has a leg to stand on when it comes to that. 

“Did I hurt you?” Rio asks curiously.

You’re still too stunned to respond.

“Probably,” Agatha answers for you. “I’m sure there’s some lovely bruises forming.”

Rio’s hands lightly run down your sides and you know she’s picturing the marks she’s creating. Purple flares and she doesn’t have to imagine. The polished wood of Agatha’s desk is cool against your skin and start in surprise.

You look up at Agatha to see her dark eyes already on you. It’s too early for you to be pleading but you know your face is already giving you away.

“Rio, why don’t we try what we talked about earlier,” Agatha says, lounging back in her chair.

Rio’s nails dig into your skin. You don’t know what she’s talking about but you know exactly what expression Rio has on her face. A wolf standing at attention, about to snap its teeth.

“Since you want to so badly,” Agatha says in a way you know in digs at Rio.

A moment you see often in the middle of their games.

“Are you sure, Agatha?” Rio asks.

The rest of your clothes disappear.

“Ca- “ your mouth clicks shut without your permission.

It’ll be more of a toy night than a participant night it seems. 

Something hard nudges your entrance and you shiver. It’s all the warning you get before Rio sheathes herself inside of you in one go. You gasp and relish the way Agatha’s eyes snap down to you. She licks her lips and your eyelids droop as Rio does it again. 

“We both know how much you like to be first,” Rio continues to goad as she slowly pulls out before thrusting all the way back in.

You don’t know what they’re talking about, you rarely do in these moments, and Rio scratching her nails down your back distracts you from that vague curiosity. The fresh sting has you arching. It doesn’t draw Agatha’s eye this time. She’s too deep into her game with Rio to give in. Knowing this doesn’t stop a little part of you pouting.

You squirm on Rio’s cock instead of listening to their next set of jibes. They only make sense to you when one of them knows it will get to the other. As hot as their foreplay is, it can take so long. Too focused on your throbbing cunt, you don’t think about the consequences as you whine and kick out. 

Their attention instantly snaps to you and you freeze. The feeling of being a rabbit caught in a wolf den creeps up on you. Agatha’s face turns into a fake pout that has you shivering. 

“Is someone feeling left out?” she asks and you hurriedly shake your head but it’s too late. 

Rio’s threads her fingers through your hair, grips firmly and forces your head down. You whimper. It’s impossible to survive the two of them.

“We don’t want that,” Rio says with a grin you can hear.

Agatha is about to give her exactly what she wants. No consequences. All because you couldn’t wait a little longer. You can’t even try to apologise. Agatha will only act oblivious.

“I just want to know what you’re talking about,” you try.

Sometimes playing their game works in your favour, even if you always lose. This time, it only seems to amuse Agatha more.

“Poor thing doesn’t even know what they risk every time you fuck her,” Agatha says to Rio. 

She drinks in your confused expression.

“It’s not surprising,” Rio says as she plays with the fresh scratches down your back. “Her confused little face is what drew you to her in the first place.”

Agatha’s head tilts slightly as she gives you a considering look.

“Rio is a cosmic entity, dear,” she  reminds you like you aren’t well aware of that whenever Rio’s does…anything, but especially when she’s inside of you. “And we are witches. We aren’t restricted by the usual limitations when it comes to death. Or life,” she quirks her brow.

You suddenly become very aware of how vulnerable you are.

“You mean she can…?”

Agatha’s smirk answers the question for you. 

Hot breath skates along the back of your neck before Rio growls lowly. Instinct has you freezing again. She noses at the delicate skin of your neck. You aren’t naive enough to think it’s a comforting motion.

“Yes,” Agatha says simply.

“I -” is all you get out before Rio’s sharp teeth sink into your shoulder. The ache is a familiar pain, one you know will soon turn to pleasure, yet you still instinctively cry out, bucking. 

Rio has too tight of a hold. She’s going to- is all you can think before her cock is sinking back inside of you. She doesn’t do the teasing pace of before and her cock stretches you open with every thrust.

“Please,” you gasp, “I don’t want- “

“Yes, you do,” Agatha says with all the confidence in the world. “It’s easy to see into your head, hon. You want to be owned. Completely. Something we’re well equipped to do.”

All you can manage is a pathetic whine. She’s never said it so plainly before. Rio is groaning against your back in a way that tells you she’s close. It only makes you clench tighter. Her claws dig into your skin as she holds you still, controlling every movement as she fills you over and over again. You can’t look away from Agatha. The only thing that gives away how much this is effecting her is her slightly heavier breathing. She has that self-satisfied smirk that drives you crazy. 

“Take it like a good pet,” Agatha says and Rio stills inside of you.

You swear you feel something warm flood you as she groans above you. Her teeth find a new spot to dig into. Heat floods through you and it’s all you can do to hold onto the desk as you come. Your eyes shut as you arch but you can still feel Agatha’s gaze searing into you. Your orgasm ends in a whimper. Rio doesn’t release her teeth until you go limp. With a satisfied growl she lets go of you.

“Feel better?” Agatha asks, now lounging back casually as she watches Rio.

“Not yet,” Rio says as her hands travel down to grope your ass. She’s still inside of you.

“Don’t be greedy,”Agatha says.

“I’m not. There’s no saying whether it’s taken yet.”

“Death itself can’t guarantee it on the first go?” Agatha’s voice is almost mocking.

“Not when she wants another round,” Rio says in a voice that tells you she’s wearing a sharp grin. 

You grind back against her, wanting nothing more than to feel like that again. Nothing more except with the taste of Agatha in your mouth too. Agatha clicks her tongue.

“If you can’t get it right the first time then it’s my turn,” she says.

“Oh? Didn’t you say this is something only Death can do?”

“I am a witch, dear,” Agatha says.

As hot as you find this, you wish they’d stop in favour of getting back to the fucking you part. 

“You’ll have to take her,” Rio says.

Agatha raises an eyebrow.

“Give her to me and I’ll suck you off,” Agatha says.

You can feel the way Rio twitches. Agatha is offering something that is usually hard won, yet Rio sees saying yes as a kind of losing.

“Sir -”

Agatha grips your shoulder and digs her thumb into one of your fresh bite marks before you can continue. Your words turn into a strangled whimper. You don’t risk begging to her instead. 

The pressure lessens when you stay quiet but Agatha doesn’t pull away. That combined with the sting of Rio’s claws has you unconsciously grinding back on Rio. It’s probably lessening your chance of Agatha fucking you full, but you’re full now and that’s all you can concentrate on.

Rio grinds her hips forward and Agatha’s hand snaps out to grip her chin. Rio stills and you can’t help the whine that escapes you. They both ignore you.

“Fuck her again and I won’t touch you for a week,” Agatha warns in a low voice.

You swear you hear Rio swallow. Her claws retreating tell you she’s given in. A second later the world tilts and you find yourself on your knees in front of Agatha. You stare up at her with wide eyes. Her pupils are blown and her hair is that slightly messy it always gets when she’s worked up. The wonders of magic. You want to run your hands through it.

You’re distracted from the thought by something dripping down your thigh and you pray Agatha can’t see it from this angle. Her boot lifting to nudge your thigh tells you otherwise.

“Dirty girl,” she murmurs before tilting her boot higher.

You twitch when it touches your sensitive core but don’t dare move otherwise. You want her to touch you, or to touch her. If she’s in an ultimatum kind of mood than complete obedience is the only way to get what you want. Her smile stretches wider and she presses harder. Pleasure sings up your spine. You’re trembling but you manage to resist the urge to grind down. Remembering her reaction when you tried to use words earlier, you beg with your eyes instead.

“Good girl,” she says and you shiver. She sits back down and spreads her legs. “Eat me out and I’ll think about rewarding you.”

You’re crawling forward before her pants are off. You run your hands up her thighs a second before they disappear. She allows the contact and you follow the trail with you nose, taking a deep breath when you hit her soaked folds. Surprisingly, she doesn’t move a hand to your hair like usual. You take the opportunity to suck a dark mark into her thigh, hoping Rio’s reaction to it will lean more towards fucking you than the punishing she is prone to. Not wanting to risk either of them pulling you away from your prize, you find Agatha’s clit with your tongue the second you’re done. You lick firm circles around it and she groans.

“I thought I was the one getting head,” Rio says, closer now.

“Don’t pout, sweetheart, it doesn’t suit you,” Agatha says.

“That isn’t what you said the last time I was on my knees,” Rio says.

Your pace stutters and Agatha laughs lowly. She threads her hand through your hair when you’re too overwhelmed by the image to remember to continue. You don’t need more than a slight push forward before you swiping your tongue over her clit again. 

“Why don’t you get on your knees now? I might change my mind again,” Agatha says.

You barely resist the urge to turn around. Agatha and Rio have the most fun in a power struggle so you’ve seen them in all kinds of roles and positions. You’ve even seen them kneel for each other. But it have Rio kneel beside you is something you’ve never experienced. You aren’t apart of the power struggle, although you’re usually used within it. You’re always firmly below at least one of them. Nether have subbed beside you. You clench your thighs together and try to distract yourself by moving lower. Dipping your tongue teasingly into Agatha, you wait for her tight grip to guide you further. She instantly pushes you closer and you eagerly comply.

It’s enough to distract you that you don’t notice the warmth of another body until it’s brushing against you. You freeze but Agatha’s nails dig in warningly. You move your focus back to her clit to try and disguise your distraction. For the very first time you don’t want to spend the next six hours eating Agatha out and you debate using your fingers without explicit permission.

You can’t see Rio but you can feel her slowly lean against you, which means she’s also leaning against Agatha’s leg. It takes you a moment to realise she’s resting her head against Agatha’s thigh. You imagine the look of Rio’s face as she looks up at Agatha, one you’ve only seen once before. Soft, open, submissive. Agatha’s other hand moves to gently stroke her hair. You fight every reaction you have, terrified of breaking the moment and losing this experience before it truly begins. 

Agatha makes a deeply satisfied noise. You immediately move down and curl your tongue inside of her. She squeezes around your tongue as she comes, moaning in unison with you. You don’t stop until Agatha tugs you away. She lets go before you can rest against her and you only get a moment of confusion before a new hand takes her place. Rio pulls you back further before turning your face towards her.

Instead of kissing you like you’re eagerly expecting, she licks over your lips. Agatha has soaked your face and Rio diligently cleans you up. Her breath is hot. The feeling of her tongue on you, of her kneeling against you, has you shaking. You’re too overwhelmed to do anything more than kneel there.

Rio doesn’t grace you with a kiss when she pulls away. You’re too dazed to miss it. It takes you a long moment to open your eyes again. 

Rio’s hand slides down to the back of your neck, thumb gently stroking the skin there, but she doesn’t take her eyes away from Agatha. 

“I’ll reward you later. I have a pet to breed,” Agatha says to her.

Rio doesn’t react, not even a twitch. Hands pull you up into Agatha’s lap. You’re straddling her for barely a moment before something hard nudges you. Looking down you’re shocked to see a green strap-on instead of a purple one. You want to see Rio’s reaction but Agatha’s grip is iron.

You hold your breath as Agatha guides her cock to your entrance. She doesn’t need to push you onto it, you sink down eagerly. You’re surprised again as she allows you to set your own pace. Her hands on your hips steadying you instead of controlling. Moving your eyes from the flashes of green to her deep blue ones, you’re unsurprised to find them studying you. 

“Mommy’s going to come in you,” she says and a shiver runs down your back.

Her fingers dig into your skin and you wish she was moving you like she usually does. Your steady pace turns shaky and uneven. Too desperate to come to be able to get yourself there.

“Please,” whine you. Agatha’s eyes drop to your lips and you say it again, “Please, mistress.”

Agatha growls and pulls you up. Your heart drops, thinking she’s pulling you off, until she slams you back down again. You moan and grasp desperately at her shoulders. Her eyes don’t leave yours as she makes you ride her. 

You’re trembling and desperate. The heat that had been slowly building again flares through you. You hold on as long as you can, not wanting it to end. Victory shines in Agatha’s eyes when you finally snap and that warmth floods you again.

Agatha runs a soothing hand up and down your back as you come down, curled into her shoulder. It takes until you have most of the feeling back in your body to realise Rio has been quiet for too long. You lean back from Agatha, trying not to get distracted with her still inside of you. Her amused smirk doesn’t reassure you. Claws curl around your hips and you freeze mid-turn. Rio moulds herself against your back. She slides her cheek against your own. A slight pressure has you staring back at Agatha, Rio’s sharp grin against your cheek. Those claws lift you half-way up Agatha’s cock.

“Wait,” you gasp and uselessly pull at them as they start to push you back down.

“No,” Rio growls and you stop, listening to your survival instincts. “If you’re so desperate to come to Agatha wearing one of my straps, then you’re going to do it again.”

You whimper. Your cunt is sensitive after two hard orgasms and you know you won’t survive another. Not functioning. You pretend the idea doesn’t make you drip. 

Agatha doesn’t do anything to save you. She leans back in her chair and settles her hands low on your thighs, prepared to enjoy the show. 

Rio bounces you on her strap without mercy and you’re struggling not to come within moments. Their scents surround you, Agatha’s eyes devour you and Rio’s claws make themselves known every time she moves you. 

Rio murmurs something under her breath and Agatha jerks suddenly. You have no control to stop and see what’s wrong. Her eyes slam shut, grip turns tight and her mouth drops open into an expression you’re familiar with.

Rio’s made it so Agatha can feel what’s happening to the strap-on. The realisation pushes you even higher. You’re too far gone to truly help with Rio’s movements but you give yourself completely to them as you watch Agatha’s face. Her head slowly tilts back. The desperate urge to kiss her surges and you lean in.

Rio grips the back of your hair and holds you still. You whimper.

“Don’t ruin my fun.”

Agatha’s eyes languidly open. “I don’t remember telling you to stop,” she says.

“Someone was trying to take more than she’s been given,” Rio purrs.

You shake your head but it’s useless.

“Eating your mistress out and being used as a fleshlight isn’t enough?” You don’t get a chance to respond. Purple swirls around your wrists and forces them behind your back. Her sharp nails dig in when she grips your chin. “Take it like a good girl before I leave you tied up for a week.” You try to nod but her grip is too tight. “Say yes mistress.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Agatha pushes your chin away and Rio starts fucking you on her strap again. It’s all too much and you’re falling apart within minutes, clinging desperately to her as pleasure consumes you.

Rio forces your hips up again and you can’t even make a noise of protest. Your bones are jelly. Your everything is jelly.

Agatha clicks her tongue. “Stop before you break her.”

Rio rolls her eyes and lets you go. You slump into Agatha’s hold. “But she’s so fun when she’s been fucked stupid.”

“I have plans for tomorrow,” Agatha says. There’s no room left in you for curiosity. “And I’d rather you focus on your own reward.”

Rio’s eyes snap to Agatha’s. Agatha lifts you and gets up before placing you back on her chair. You reach for her, confused in your slowness. She grasps your chin.

“Watch,” she commands.

You nod once the word makes it through your slow thoughts. The command giving a bit more life to them. They speed up more as you watch Agatha slowly kneel down in front of Rio. Swallowing roughly, you grip the chair tight. Wondering if you’re dreaming.This is a sight you rarely see. Rio has won dominance before and even allowed you to watch on rare occasions but this feels different.

Agatha wraps her hand around the base of Rio’s cock and begins to slowly stroke it. Rio looks almost frozen, riveted by the sight. Agatha slowly licking her from base to tip doesn’t help.

She wraps her lips around Rio’s head. They don’t break eye contact.

Rio groans when Agatha takes her deeper. Agatha hollows her cheeks and Rio’s hips jerk. Her hand lands in Agatha’s hair but doesn’t push.

She doesn’t last as long as you’re expecting. She was more worked up than she was letting on and the sight of her coming with a loud groan has you grinding against the chair despite your sensitive cunt.

“Good boy,” Agatha husks when she pulls away and Rio’s whole body shudders. Agatha gets up and sits on her desk. “Now fuck me like you mean it and maybe I’ll give you another go with our pet over there.”

[tobesolnelyx]

— golden brown || prince!shauna shipman headcanons (medieval - royalty au) ⚔️

a/n: guys…i let my intrusive thoughts win. this so random lmao 😭 but it just spawned in my head and i HAD TO. alexa play but daddy i love him by taylor swift!!

summary: third to the throne among her, charlotte and natalie. the most cruel one. medieval au.

warnings: violence. mentions of executions.

★ — she’s the youngest of all three; her, lottie and natalie, so there’s no really a chance for her to became a king one day…or is it? she’s known for being the most cruel one. the one, who attends every execution and doesn’t flinch when someone’s head falls with a thud on pavement. the one, who treats her servants badly.

★ — wears tunics, surcoats and leather shoes. always remember to put on her favourite signets. crown is on her head way often than on lottie’s or natalie’s. she needs to show everyone that, even if she’s not in charge yet, she’ll might be. so treat her with respect.

★ — she would be better as the leader of the royal army, but her potential is frustratingly wasted. she’s too obsessed with the idea of being on top to really care about that.

★ — great at swordsmanship. basically at anything that includes sharp tools. she wants to be good at everything tho. not only in fighting, archery, horse riding. she cares about her own education more than natalie and charlotte on theirs. spends hours in library and on private lessons. just to know more.

★ — always sleeps with her dagger under the pillow. she’s consumed by the thought that someone could kill her in her sleep. she puts guardians outside her room, making sure they’re keeping an eye on everything all night long.

★ — the same thing with food — has her own tester like every other member of the royal family. the difference is that, she uses this poor man everytime. on. every. single. meal. to make sure that no one is trying to poison her.

★ — she pretends to care about kingdom, people, her duties. in reality, she’s plotting behind everyone’s back. to get the throne. to eliminate natalie and lottie out of her way. power is all that matters to her.

★ — the most bored one. bored with duties, with meeting with people…she does everything she has to. just to prove she’s the right person to wear this king crown, but still. however, she definitely loves banquets and balls. every occasion to drink is a good one.

★ — speaking of which, when she’s drunk enough, she yanks free princesses and drags them for a dance. in which, she’s unfairly good, too. had many lessons, learned unadulterated manners, and she definitely knows how to manipulate treat a woman right.

★ — always talks with royal families that comes for gatherings ceremonies or balls from abroad. she puts on her best smile, bowing and kissing woman’s hands. people love her — she’d be a great diplomat with her intelligence and knowledge. unfortunately, she keeps information she gains to herself. truly believing she’s the only person worth the trust in this castle.

★ — she’s cold, calculates everything. with those small chances to gain power, they try to find her a proper wife. she doesn’t even want to hear about all that. way too focused on making her way on top. she thinks that woman permanently on her side would be only a problem.

★ — insist on including her in every king and government meeting. she wants to know everything. and if they don’t let her? she’s yelling and threatening everyone around until she gets on this damn gathering.

★ — her favourite kind of duty is probably…attending on executions. she loves this feeling when she can lists someone’s crimes. when crowd chants and she finally shout to cut off this disgusting head!

★ — she likes good competition, which basically means, she’s signed in every single one. every year something like that is organised — she attends with her best horse, in most tough armour and with luxury sword. made just for her.

★ — speaking of competition - utterly obsessed with competing with lottie and natalie. even if they’re not aware of that silent battle between them. she has to be better, stronger, smarter. in everything. she doesn’t take defeat. she simply doesn’t.

★ — she spends her late nights in the castle library. reading books or writing in her journal, staring at the fire. probably plotting another intrigue.

★ — has inappropriate amount of lovers — both men and women. doesn’t really care about them. what is important to her is that she wants them ready all the time. on her every call. she has to get her anger out somewhere. sex is the best way. who would say no to a prince, anyway? not, like you can decline this offer.

★ — she’ll do all it takes. even if it means getting rid of people. especially if it means that. what’s more, she’d be first to start a war between kingdoms.

★ — she’s not liked as much as lottie or natalie. but she’s respected by people. by kings and queens. and for her, that’s even more important. she doesn’t care about love or kindness. she wants to become a king one day.

[friendlynaborhooddisapointment]

trying to write a oneshot where billy gets a phone (his neighbour in the condemned building he squats in gives it to him after she gets a new one) and then ends up starting a tictok account as Captain Marvel. he starts it cuz a tictok abt him got viral so he makes one to repy to it but then gets attached to the app a little (cuz he's like 12) and just continues to make them.

but suddenly i forgot about all tictok trends i could have him do . the only ones i remember are the "pass the phone to someone who" (gonna have him pass it to batman and then batman shits on him for filming a tictok in the watchtower) and the smash or pass cake. WHAT OTHER TRENDS CAN I HAVE THIS GUY DOOOO PLEASEEEEE.

things i want him to do with this acc:

when he sees ppl in shitty situations (abusive), he comments on them being like want me to beat them up for you? (? something along those lines)

dueting dance tictoks and failing really badly

making a video abt all the stray animals he visits (damian becomes an avid follower and fan after this one) and it becomes a series

an info dumb video about tigers

suspiciously helpful life hack videos that are sometimes borderline illegal

maybe a video where he goes around and interviews homeless people with stuff like hey whats ur favorite food? and supper mundane questions- want this to lead to a whole bunch of videos of Cap picking fights with people on the internet over the dignity and rights of homeless people

has a series of 'rate this parking lot' type videos but of different roof tops

Superman pissed him off so he starts a collection of interrupting and finishing Superman's fights for him (oh sorry was this your fight? rip ig u dont have to worry abt him now, see you later!) what did superman do? bro idk ill figure it out

a video taking abt the best websites to download music from for his mp3 player since a comment asks abt it when it shows up in a video (it becomes v obvious that he is broke as fuck in this video and thats all the comments focus on)

billy dueting with fanart and fan edits freaking out being like wow these r so cool!!! (he ignores all the gooner stuff eyes close do not see)

doing tictok dances with some of the homeless of facwet

ends up making a video on resources in facwet for homeless people (since some people ask for it) but they are all kinda unofficial or just survival tips, and also him dunking on some of the official ones that are kinda shady (weirdly personal advice for someone who is probably not homeless? is the vibe)

makes a video complaining abt how because of how popular it has become to pay with everything by card most people dont carry around change anymore, and because of that homeless people get a lot less money then they used too

videos where random citizens call out to him and ask questions or ask him to do random stuff (most of them start off with him about to do a video on something else then derails)

some of the JL ask to do join him on some of the tictoks so a few collabs wth them.

'how many times can i film batman without him noticing me' it gets to 2 because batman was to busy to tell him to stop both times. it ends with batman lecturing him on filming in the tower again

thats all i got for him to do. idk if i will actually write this so feel free to steal it to make your own fanfic (actually please do i hate writing). but i think it would be funny for this perceived adult to make half brainrot type content that feels weirdly natural. also the weird little hints he accidentally leaves abt his civilian life that is very concerning to everyone. no one can tell if he's a million years old or born yesterday lol.

also Captain Marvel and Superman beef pre identity reveal means everything to me. ALSO THE CAPTAIN CHILLING WITH THE HOMELESS AND BEING ACAB MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME and thats like half the reason why i want this to exist.

[ashwhowrites]

I know I sent in a request a few days ago, but that one was pretty long so I figured I'd also throw in a shorter request while they're still open: smutty Older!Simp!Eddie x reader in which they are basically the Gomez and Morticia of the Stranger Things universe. No plot, just Eddie and the reader being disgustingly (said with affection) OBSESSED with each other.

FUCKING LOVE THE ADDAMS FAMILY. HAVE A TATTOO TO PROVE IT

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Gomez and Morticia

Eddie had a few girlfriends in the past, and well they ended badly. All of Eddie's friends can agree that he was not boyfriend material. He kept to himself and often forgot a relationship takes a lot of work and sacrifice. It was his way or no way.

But then he graduated and became more grown-up. And he fell in love. He fell in love hard.

Her name was Y/N, Eddie met her at a concert. She was dressed to impress with her short shorts and high black boots. Her makeup was angelic and sharp enough to cut him, and he loved it. He loved how she captivated him the whole show. The band faded to nothing as he watched her dance and sing along. He swore he had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life.

She was just as smitten with him. Her claws were always dug into his skin. They were never separated, hand in hand wherever they went. She adored his long hair and how it felt against her skin. She felt breathless whenever she looked at him. The way he dressed, the way he smelled, and the way his voice sounded. Everything about him she was helplessly in love with.

It was impossible to turn either of their heads. They were both young and attractive, and people noticed that. Girls ran after Eddie like a damn ice cream truck. With their small tops and long lashes. They bounced up to their table, ignoring Y/N as she looked unbothered. Neither she nor Eddie acknowledged they were there. Their advances were simply not heard as Eddie stared at the way Y/N licked her ice cream cone. His melting in the small bowl, untouched. Y/N looked up and made eye contact with Eddie, the tease she was she slowly licked the ice cream and swirled her tongue. Her insides burned as he growled. He grabbed her cone and threw it on the table, with no care for the ice cream that now was smashed against the table. He grabbed her hand, and she smirked as he raced them to the nearest bathroom.

If any guy had the nerve to walk up to Y/N, he was quick to regret it. Eddie's deep glare and loud snarl. Eddie gave them a warning to run, if they didn't listen that was their problem. Eddie had no problem decking anyone in the face for coming near what was it. Then of course Y/N would be turned on by his possessiveness. And they would find the nearest place to hook up.

If anyone wanted to have a conversation with one of them, it was nearly impossible. Robin lost count of how many times Eddie would steal Y/N's attention and it would never return. Steve gave up on talking to either of them, he knew he stood no chance.

No one ever experienced a relationship like this. A couple that is so in love with each other, that never fight and would do anything for the other. They would die for each other and no one questioned it.

Eddie worshipped her like the queen she was. He lived to please her and happily do anything she asked. She was on the highest pedestal in his eyes and that's where she belonged.

They belonged together and only together.

~~~

"How was your day?" Eddie asked, his lips leaving kisses down Y/N's neck. She sighed at the feeling, the tension in her body from the day melting away with every kiss.

She dropped her head to the side, giving him more room as he nuzzled against her neck. His teeth lightly bit into her skin.

"Tiring. I hate work." She moaned out, she could feel his head body sitting behind her. The comfy bed underneath them.

"Yeah? I hate work too. Why don't you lay down and I'll help you out." His whispers were setting her body on fire. Her thighs clenched as she panted.

She stood up, slipping out of his grip. His eyes were on her, obviously. He licked his lips as she stripped down, her naked skin calling to him as he dropped off the bed and onto his knees.

He kissed her knees, then up her thighs. His soft lips kissed every inch of her skin as he made his way up to his feet, landing a kiss on her lips. As he kissed her, he turned them around and softly landed them on the bed.

The kiss grew hungrier as Eddie's hands grazed her skin, moving his body in between her thighs. He swallowed her moans and shivered as she tugged on his hair.

She whined as he pulled away, but was satisfied when he kissed back down her body. He whispered compliments against her skin, everything he loved about her falling from his lips as he landed on his knees again.

He grabbed her legs and put them on his shoulders, dragging her body to the very edge of the bed. She propped herself on her elbows as she looked down at him.

His dark eyes eating her...as well as his mouth

She arched her back once his tongue touched her aching clit. The simple touch had her shivering and gripping the sheets. All the aches from the day washed away as his tongue swirled in circles.

She barely made a sound, just cracks from her throat as she dropped against the mattress. Her hands moved to his hair as she greedily moved her hips. Eddie always obeyed, leaving his hands behind him as he let her ride his tongue. His eyes open as he watched her rock against his mouth, she was enchanting in every which way.

"Eddie?" she panted, softly tugging his head to get his attention

"Yes, love?"

"make love to me" she moaned

Eddie smiled like a man who won the lottery. Stripping out of his clothes and eagerly laying on the bed. She climbed on top of him, sinking her wet cunt onto his hard cock. He moaned the second she was around him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lips on her chest as she began to bounce on him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies pressed against one another. Not even room for air between them. His tongue teased her nipples, and she shivered against him as she rode him faster.

She rolled her hips in the way he loved. Watching with bliss as he let go of her nipple to moan out. His head was thrown back as he let all his sounds go. She leaned forward and used her tongue to lick up his neck and into his mouth.

The sound of their heavy breathing and skin connecting echoed around the room. Her hands were flat on his shoulders as she used the leverage to feel him deeper.

She released the kiss as she felt herself getting close. His hands on her ass as he helped her move her hips.

"Fuck Eddie yes" she moaned

Eddie growled like an animal as he lay back, bringing her body with his. Her chest was flat against his as he used the new position to fuck his hips up into her. The feeling made her eyes roll in the back of her head. Her forehead pressed against his as she looked into his eyes.

"Cum for me, baby. Want that pretty pussy to cum." He said, his eyes staring into hers as she nodded.

She bit her lip as she concentrated, the feeling in her stomach burned and burned then it snapped.

"EDDIEEEE" she screamed as she felt herself cum all over him. Her whines and moans hit his lips as he watched her fall apart for him

"God, I love you," he said before he smashed his lips onto hers.

She cupped his face and slowed down her hips. But she kept moving to help him chase his orgasm. He pulled back from the kiss as he felt the need to cum. Her hands stayed on his face as she smirked and raised her eyebrows. She had so much power over him, she knew the way his body felt when he approached an orgasm.

He moaned as he kept his eyes on hers as he emptied himself inside of her. He loved how she already knew everything to do. She moved her hips to help him ride it out before gently lifting herself off of him.

But she stayed on his lap as he gently kissed her face

They belonged to each other

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[theseinfernalangels]

Forgive and Forget - Aaric Graycastle

Synopsis: After the most venomous arguments, the best way of healing comes from soft apologies and gentle touches.

A/N: I think this might be the longest fic I’ve ever written. I don’t mind, though, because I’m also very proud of it. Aaric girls are generally quiet on here, but I see y’all.

Includes: Angst, slight miscommunication, temper issues on Reader’s part, hurt comfort, kissies, fluff at the end. Takes place somewhere between the margins in Iron Flame.

As far as you remembered, you’d never gotten so…disgruntled with Aaric before.

“I’m telling you, it’s a fucking death sentence!” he huffed, his emerald-like irises glittering in anger. “I’m not trying to disregard your abilities or autonomy. I just need you to stay alive.”

“Please,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him like anger incarnate. “Our entire lives are death sentences in of themselves. You do not get to act like you have anystanding in trying to protect me whilst you go and put yourself in the same situation.”

Your fury didn’t make sense to him. He knew you were hotheaded, obviously, but this was on another level; you’d never gotten this upset with him. Had he really offended you so badly? All he wanted to do was protect you from whatever the hell beyond the wards — even if he had to go beg a General to keep you here to do it.

He opened his mouth to counter your words, but you beat him to it. “If you have any other complaints, I’m sure someone else in Leadership will hear you out. We are soldiers, Graycastle. Soldiers fight, and they die. I’m more than willing to give my life for the good of Navarre.”

Aaric’s fingers curled into fists as he struggled to hold back bitter, poisonous words that he knew he would regret sooner or later.

“You can’t just give your life away like it’s nothing,” he said quietly, desperately. “Don’t you get it? Your life matters to people. To me.”

His quiet admission made the fire in your chest falter a little, but it was no use; you were just too stubborn, too prideful, too hurt by the fact that he wouldn’t let you do this for yourself and your friends.

“I’ve known my mission since day one,” you replied lowly. “If I have to die to accomplish it, then so be it. That is what it means to be a rider. We go into this line of work under the pretense that death is certain. I accepted that long ago. You should, too.”

You are so much more than your line of duty, he wanted to say. You are so much more than a soldier, than a person on a mission. Losing you would be like losing the sun.

The words stuck to the back of his throat like some sort of magic was forcing him to choke and drown in them. What could Aaric say to change your stubborn mind? To make you see his logic, to keep yourself from being killed?

You clenched your fists and let out a long, slow exhale to try and quell your anger. “We’re done here,” you whispered, turning around with militaristic precision and beginning to walk away. 

You paused once to turn back to him, your voice quiet and cold.

“If you ever try to pull this bullshit again, Cam, I will never forgive you, nor will I forget it.”

His actual name slipped from your lips before you could have even stopped it, the usual warmth gone in a whirlwind of ice and venom. He’d flinched imperceptibly before you stormed off — a look in his eyes that told you that you’d fucked up on many, many levels.

⋆⁺₊❅.

You weren’t sure what was stinging more — your torn, bloody knuckles, or the venomous words that still danced cruelly over your tongue, ready to bite and maim and hurt. They felt so foreign, for once. You had no issue lashing out at the people who deserved it; the ones who reeked of arrogance and disrespect, the ones who sought to harm and oppress.

Aaric, though?

He’d only wanted to keep you safe. Granted, you thought it was valid how you’d initially reacted. He’d gone to General Sorrengail specifically to ask her to take you out of the squad for your mission. It was shitty, yeah, but he was only concerned for you. And how had you repaid his concern?

You’d spit his real name at him like it was cursed, like it was offensive. What usually came out as warm and gentle on pretty April evenings had turned cold and hurtful.

You’d hurt him. 

You hadn’t meant to call him that. That was an asshole move, and you knew it. But you couldn’t stop it, his name falling from your lips all icy and strict and damaging.

You want to go back and apologize. Tell him you didn’t mean that. But your pride overpowers you, and you know that this should be a lesson for him never to try and disrespect you and your decisions like that again.

You’re torn — more than the skin on your hands that stung and bled from how hard you’d punched the stone walls of your room. You could get some ice to layer on your fingers so that the throbbing would subside. You could be doing anything else, really, than sitting on your bedroom floor, silently stewing in red-hot anger and staring at the bloodstained wall. You didn’t have the energy, though. You felt drained, as if arguing with your — whatever Aaric was to you — had sucked the life out of you. Your dragon wasn’t even speaking to you.

“Wait and think, girl,” she’d said before slamming her shields up, as if she wanted you to figure the entire thing out yourself. “Wait, listen, and think.”

…

What a bitch.

You slump against the wall. It was pointless to get so angry at Aaric, you realize. He just cares about you, but you still think your anger is justified. You feel like an ass, but you think he’s an ass, too. Skies.

You could get up and go to him, you think. You should get up and apologize for lashing out like that. Your anger, cold as ice and more ferocious than that of a hurricane, was not something that the likes of Aaric Graycastle deserved. Sure, you had every right to be pissed at him for trying to talk Leadership out of letting you go on a mission you’d worked so hard to be chosen for…But to yell at him, tell him he’s illogical, and then take something he’d trusted you with and throw it back in his face?

Maybe you were the real asshole here. 

Fine. You stand up with a groan and sluggishly make your way to the door, reluctantly ready to try and work through the problem. 

What would you even say to him? You pause in front of the mahogany wood of the door, trying to script out some half-hazard apology. 

I’m sorry for being a bitch again. I’m sorry I said your name like that. I’m sorry I hurt you for hurting me. I’m sorry that you care about me, for whatever reason. I’m sorry I misinterpreted your intentions, kind of. I’m sorry I took your light, grew a firestorm from it, and made sure it burned you. I’m sorry that you chose to want me alive. I’m sorry I lo—

Your racing thoughts are cut off by a sharp tapping noise from the other side of the door. Despite its roughness, it sounds careful. Hesitant. Like whatever is inside the room — you — needs to be handled with caution.

It makes you feel worse.

But, as much as you feel terrible, you refuse to act like a coward after all of that fighting. It would make the situation even more unfair for the both of you.

Steeling your nerves, you push the door open, grab at the scarred hand you know is resting on the door handle, yank Aaric in past the wards, and shut the door behind him.

Aaric practically topples into your room with a yelp as you slam the door shut behind him, barely managing to keep himself from falling flat face first into the floor. He braces a hand on the wall next to him and turns to you to give a dry, scathing remark when a tinge of red catches his peripherals. He looks down.

Great skies. You’re hurt.

Your back is to him as you let out a slow exhale to try and calm yourself. You don’t know why you let him in. Stupid, you mentally chide yourself.

You sigh, turning around to face him. Your eyes are narrowed, but your tone is defeated and hoarse as you speak, as if your voice was rusted from disuse.

“Spit it out, Graycastle.”

Aaric takes a moment to look you up and down. You look bad. Your knuckles are bloody, and you’re standing with your usually-set shoulders slumped, something in your voice sounding…exhausted. It makes his own anger disappear in a second, that tired look. A barely-there glance at the reddened stone wall tells him everything he needs to know. He swallows the lump forming in his throat as he speaks.

“Can I touch you?”

If this had been earlier, you would’ve punched him in your anger, bloody hands or no. You would’ve yelled or spit some other insult at him to make him leave.

But, honestly? You’re done now, and his concern for you — even after hurting him in a way you’d never thought yourself capable of — makes your heart ache.

You don’t say anything, don’t even look at him as you raise your hands in front of you.

He raises his hands, rough but gentle, to yours, cradling them and turning them to inspect the damage done. A small hiss leaves his mouth at the state of your knuckles before he tugs on your wrist with a murmured, “Sit.”

You let yourself be pulled to the edge of your bed, and you plop down numbly as Aaric stands before you. Then, he does something you don’t expect.

His legs fold, and then he’s suddenly kneeling in front of you, your hands still resting in his. His head is bowed and his breath hits your skin softly.

This is wrong, you tell yourself. You shouldn’t be allowing him to get this close to you — not after what you did to each other. You’re hurt, and you don’t want to see him. On the other hand, though, you don’t think you can go very long without seeing him. Ignoring him is harder than getting close to him.

Aaric’s eyes are locked on your knuckles, his long fingers gently brushing against the wounds.

He can’t look up at you yet, not without breaking the delicate peace between the two of you. He’s scared to look up at you. His heart is hammering in his chest, terrified of what you’ll say.

Instead, he focuses on the wounds. His head is low, but his shoulders are straight, the picture of a proper and stoic rider…except this one is on his knees for you.

You’re both silent for a moment. Aaric is still gently inspecting your knuckles, his touch feather-light.

Every time the pads of his fingers brush over the skin, you feel a shiver run down your spine.

It’s…strange. There is no anger between you both anymore. Any grudges that had risen on your argument had simmered and cooled, leaving both of you with…peace?

No. Not peace, but quiet. A quiet understanding.

You swallow. You don’t want to speak first. You know you’ll fuck it up if you do. You know Aaric won’t, either. You guess it’s some some princely chivalry of some kind. He would let you talk first.

Damn him.

You both remain silent for a few minutes before you quietly say, “It looks worse than it feels.”

You don’t need to see his face to know that his lips are twitching in disapproval. He’s used to you, which is why he continues to lightly brush his fingers against your knuckles, trying to ignore the sharp inhale you keep making at his touch.

He takes a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“Did the wall win, at least?”

You press your lips into a thin line to contain the smile that dares to tug at your mouth.

“Dunno. You tell me. It looks pretty roughed up from this angle.”

His eyes finally flick up to your face before glancing back down at your hands.

“Huh. You sure it didn’t hit you back?”

You look down at your hands, your split knuckles still welling with blood. Yikes. You should probably find a better outlet for your anger than punching the wall like it personally offended you.

You take a deep breath. “It may have blind-sided me a few times.”

A soft chuckle leaves Aaric’s throat. He can’t help it. You’re just so…you, sometimes.

Stubborn, proud, icy, brilliant, beautiful…

He shifts forward, using the sleeve of his jacket to dab at some of the blood, wiping the excess from your knuckles. “You should probably find a better way to vent than beating the shit out of an innocent wall.”

He pauses and fishes a little cloth from his pocket, taking it in between his forefingers and swipes it over your bruised and torn skin.

Extensive training at from before Basgiath has taught you to contain any pained sounds that could leave you, but you can’t help the way your nose scrunches at the sting in your hands. You suppose he’s right. You do need to learn control — both over your mind and your mouth.

You spend a few more minutes in silence before you decide to start talking again. No time like the present to vomit out the words that are bubbling over in your mind. 

“Listen, Aaric. I…I didn’t-“

Aaric’s fingers still at the sound of his name, but he doesn’t look up at you. Instead, he continues to dab away at the blood, his knuckles brushing against the open wounds, before resting the cloth against your middle knuckle. You know he’s listening, though. Waiting intently for you to collect your words before he can cut in.

Oh, damn him. He knows you hate vulnerability and won’t look at you because it’s less pressure on you. Screw his chivalry!

You take a deep breath. “I…What I said earlier…I didn’t mean to. It was a shitty move on my part, and I’m sorry.”

You’re talking about all of it: Being slightly unreasonable, your stubbornness, accidentally saying his real name with all of the venom you could muster…All of it.

He pauses, his fingers gripping your hands slightly tighter than before. He still won’t meet your eyes, but he knows he has a reason; if he looks up, all of his carefully crafted self control will be gone in an instant. His thoughts and feelings would spill out like water from an overflowing bathtub. His silence allows you to continue, the words spilling from you like one of your usual drunken rambles.

“I know you were just trying to look out for me,” you say softly. “I know it’s because you care. I’m sorry for throwing that back in your face. But…I need you to understand why it upset me.”

For the first time since he’s stepped into your room, Aaric looks up at you. His eyes meet yours, and they’re filled with a gleam you’ve only seen on a few occasions.

He just holds your gaze, nodding slightly, letting you know that he’s willing to hear you out. He’s so damn patient with you, and it only serves to make you feel more guilty.

You can’t help the thought: Skies, he’s absolutely beautiful. That’s a prince for you.

“I…” You falter, swallowing. “I get why you asked Leadership to keep me here. But you’ve gotta understand, Aaric…That hurt me. I’ve worked hard for this — my position, my signet, my role in these sorts of things. And for you to ask them to disregard that just for safety…That felt infantilizing. You made it sound like none of my skills even mattered in the long run.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you add. “I think getting mad at you was perfectly reasonable and fair. I’m still pretty pissed with you. But you didn’t deserve what I said. I don’t — I know I need to work on my temper, and lashing out at you like that didn’t help the situation.”

Fuck, he thinks. This gorgeous, infuriating woman.

He nods as if he’s fully digesting your explanation, his fingers tapping against yours thoughtfully. “I understand. I guess I deserved some of it, anyway.”

You chew on your lip absentmindedly before you continue, your voice soft.

“Gods, no…I’m not…”

You huff in frustration at your lack of confidence. “I am so fucking sorry that I talked to you that way.”

You’re being specific without really saying it. You’re referring to you calling him by his actual name with such icy venom in your voice. It wasn’t even on purpose, but you still felt horrible about it. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it?

His eyes don’t meet yours, but his hands trace over your wrists lightly. He reaches into his pocket and produces a small roll of bandages, ripping a small piece off and beginning to wrap your hands in the pristine cloth.

“You hurt me, you know.”

His words are simple, delivered as soft and straight-on as your own.

Ouch. His words break your heart to splinters, but it’s deserved. You nod. You deserve this.

“I know,” you confirm quietly, guilt and shame clear in your voice. “I never meant to do that, nor do I ever intend to again. I can’t give you an excuse for that, but I’m apologizing anyway, because it was shitty to throw that at you, especially when we were both vulnerable.” 

Aaric looks thoughtful for a moment, his fingers still gently wrapping your wounds, cleaning up the blood and covering the scrapes with the now-stained bandages.

Once he’s finished, he keeps your hands in his, his eyes finally lifting up to meet yours. He keeps his gaze locked on yours as he lifts one of your hands up to his mouth—

And gently kisses the inside of your wrist.

Oh. 

Oh.

His mouth is softer than you could’ve imagined, gentler, leaving a gentle brush of heat and faint pressure on your sensitive skin. Every nerve ending there is tingling with something new, unfamiliar.

You’ve always been a hyperaware person; right now, you’re very aware that your cheeks are warm.

You’d never admit it to him, but you’d always wondered what his lips felt like. You’d never imagined that they’d be so soft on your skin.

Your hand twitches and you blink down at him. What do you even say in this situation?

“I…Aaric-“

“Hush,” he murmurs, cutting you off. He shifts so he’s more comfortable, still kneeling in front of you. He remains staring at you, though, his beautiful green eyes never wavering once.  Gentle kisses trail up your wrist towards your palm, each of them a small burst of heat against your skin.

Now, how did a civilized conversation about apologies end up like this? You barely have a clue; honestly, there aren’t many coherent thoughts on your brain right now that aren’t about him. Your pulse goes mad, the soft skin of his lips sending a small chill down your spine. You want to say something, but you know he’d just shush you again, so you just stare at him, stunned into silence.

He snickers quietly at your widened eyes. “You,” he says in a low voice, “tend to speak without thinking. This—“ Another kiss is pressed to your wrist, just above your veins — “feels like the easiest way of getting you to be quiet.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times before you respond.

“I’m not running my mouth,” you insist, your voice coming out a little softer, a little unsure. “I’m apologizing for hurting you.”

He exhales quietly. “I know,” he replies. “And I’m doing the same.”

You assume this is some royal thing that you don’t know about. Whatever it is, it’s certainly…intimate.

Your eyes soften as you watch him. You’d honestly been considering sobbing into him and trying to make up an excuse for yourself, but that was a shitty idea.

Yeah. You’d much rather be here with him.

The corner of his mouth quirks upwards, his free hand lifting up to tenderly trace your jawline, the callouses on his palm scraping gently against the skin.

“I can see the gears turning. You think it’s different?”

It’s almost like he’s read your mind. 

“Well…Yeah,” you reply. “And I think I should be making up for what I said. You don’t deserve my anger.”

He laughs a little. “I get it. But I think this makes up for it plenty, if you’re alright with it.”

Oh, you’re more than alright with it. It makes you fucking ecstatic.

You sigh. “…Sometimes I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you.”

He stills, and you immediately curse yourself internally. Good going, hotshot. You ruined the moment.

He blinks up at you. The two of you have never actually kissed each other. Sure, you’d had intimate moments like this, but your lips had never had the pleasure of meeting his. You were always too afraid of taking, and he was always too nervous to go too far with you.

The room is silent for a moment before he tilts his head. “No pressure.”

…

Fuck it, you think. It wouldn’t hurt to try, if he’s inviting you.

Whether he’s kidding or not, your gaze falls on his lips. You bring your free hand up, gently tracing his bottom lip. His lips are pretty and soft, as if he somehow had snuck in that little tin of salve in his pocket and carried it everywhere he went with you. Princely habits died hard.

He takes a breath, his gaze still locked on yours as the tip of your finger lightly brushes against the soft skin of his lower lip. Aaric’s hand comes up to gently catch your wrist, his thumb holding it there against his mouth. Waiting. 

Well, at least you know that he won’t reject you if you actually kiss him.

You stare at him evenly, your gaze fond and affectionate. What a darling he is — you don’t know why you haven’t done this sooner.

You ease both his and your hand away from his mouth and slowly - giving him the chance to pull back - brush your lips against his, hesitant but heartfelt at the same time. Nothing rushed, nothing too sensual…Just a sweet little peck on his (admittedly pretty) mouth.

His eyes flutter shut. He’s frozen in place again, but for an entirely different reason this time, as the touch of your mouth on his sets off a strange heat in his gut. It’s soft, sweet, just a warm little touch, but the second you pull away, his eyes slowly open again, his gaze hazy as he looks at you.

That little kiss was the best apology he’s ever received. And now he wants to return the favor so badly.

You pull away. You don’t really want to go much further than a couple of pecks or two — not now, not in a moment like this where emotions are raw and you feel so vulnerable still.

You look at him, still on his knees in front of you with your less-bloody knuckles in his hand.

“Apology accepted?” you prompt him.

Aaric’s mouth is buzzing a little, the rapid thud of his heartbeat louder than your words in his ears. His thumb gently brushes underneath your chin, the pad of his digit tracing just underneath your lower lip.

“What..?”

It takes another moment for him to process the words you said, and then he lets out a soft laugh, his gaze still locked on your face.

“Oh. Right. More than accepted.”

He goes quiet for a moment before he leans in again, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Can I have a turn in apologizing?” He asks like he isn’t staring directly at your mouth.

You smile fondly. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part one

PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches

“Why is she even here?”

“Steve!”

A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.

Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.

“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“

“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”

“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”

“That’s not fair–“

“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.

They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.

“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.

The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.

Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.

Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.

Waiting to leave you for dead.

And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.

Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.

Eddie.

❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞

You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”

He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.

“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”

...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.

Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.

So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.

You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—

“Can I sit?”

The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.

“Jesus, Eddie.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”

“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”

The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.

“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.

“Hey now, that’s not true–”

“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”

That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”

“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”

Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.

Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.

“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?

You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.

Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.

“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.

Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?

How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?

“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.

“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.

“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”

“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.

“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”

“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”

“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.

“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”

“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.

“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”

“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”

Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?

“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”

❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞

The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.

Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.

Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.

“Need some help?”

When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.

“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.

“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.

“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”

And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'

“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.

“Really? My period? So original.”

It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.

“Explains you being such a bitch.”

And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.

“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.

Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.

How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.

So he wouldn’t get a second chance.

And he wasn’t worth your time.

Not then and sure as hell not now.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[weepingtalecowboy]

The answer to legend’s eye color would be ‘yes’ (four conspiracy theorized too much and completely missed the obvious answer)

I heard the argument about legend's eye color

But that gave me a hilarious idea

Fanfic prompt :

Legend's eye color changes depending on magic circumstances

It is red if there is prominent dark magic actually surrounding him (lorule , dark world , twilight realm , etc)

It is blue when he is in an area with a lot of light magic because it is strong enough to nullify or repress the effects of dark magic (sacred realm, fairy fountain near a light guardian)

And violet when both magic sources are around but prone to changing depending on how much of what magic is around ( Hyrule kingdom by default)

And green when he is near a water source or actually wet because the mermaid curse is pretty green looking in the oracle game and even more prone to changing

And depending upon who he is close to it also gets influenced (like with Hyrule he has blue eyes or violet, with twilight because of the twilight shard red eyes or violet , with sky blue eyes again, with warriors, time and wind violet eyes and if it is raining he has green eyes)

So image what sort of reaction four would have if he sees legend's eye colors rotate that way (green, red , violet and blue)

He freaked the hell out because legend mentioned that he retrieved the four sword once

And he very inconspicuously (it was not inconspicuous no matter how much Vio is in denial about it) tries to conspiracy theorist through it

But it is barely noticeable that they stay consistent because how the chain is close together anyway if you don’t search for it

Like he will have violet eyes then twilight would run up and they go red and sky and hyrule join as well so now they are blue and then he takes a sip of water and they go green then twilight moves away a bit and they go back to violet or blue

And if they fight monsters they are usually red or violet

This made four think that legend's colors are different from his in temperament

Legend's red obviously seems more like a fighter than four's (that kinda annoyed blue that his color rarely shows up in battle but when Hyrule and legend are being cuddly guess what , blue is there )

Legend's violet is way to social in comparison to four's (and much more snarky as well but that is just because he always has violet eyes when he and warriors interact , hyrule and sky tend to leave them to their teasing)

And legend's green seems to badly be around for anything but a meal or a break (soup is their only kind off meals so obviously his eyes turn green over water heavy stuff and also them messing around in rivers)

And how fast legend seem to change from one to another color is really worrying to four because that must be exhausting and confusing to pass around control this often without stopping once for an actual duration of time

And he tries to teach legend how to use the four sword but he having heavy trauma keeps pushing away lessons (I still decades later never recovered from the fight against the dark colors it is genuinely harder to beat then ganon )

So four tries to even harder

(While completely missing the fact that legend in fact cannot use the four sword (as it is pretty much useless in link to the past) nor has he ever used it)

Four tries so aggressively to bond with his probably successor that it makes twilight’s desperate attempts to connect with time look like nothing

He wants to fix this mess of a four sword user as soon as he can but legend actually has to trust him with the four sword stuff (which legend obviously wants to take to his grave for entirely different reasons because damn he killed the little guy and four seems to know that and it makes him feel horrible that four actually is such a nice person , why must he be so insistent on knowing what happened to the four sword)

So they dance around each other so aggressively that even wild and twilight find it impossible (a real pot , kettle situation they are totally not Better)