#and I'm glad you liked him reacting like that!!!

[delulustateofmind]

oof This is Love, Right is so AMAZING, i loved it a bit too much. my heart broke for the reader when she was soooo close to escaping them, but it all came crashing down - so sad, seriously.

i wonder if they have a preference for boy or girl and also if the kid is satoru, how does geto react and the vice-versa

❤ and thank you for sharing such masterpiece with us

TW: Toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of pregnancy/children, mentions of breeding/lactation kinks. MDNI

I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you so much! 🩷

Ahhh...in terms of children, those freaks wouldn't care. Geto would surely want girls or twins again. Gojo is well...happy to be there. However, the higher-ups would pressure for at least one of your children to look like Gojo. As for themselves, Gojo and Geto love each other so much that they would love each other's kids.

Now obviously when you have kids that leads to other issues.

Like Geto's breeding kink, oh, his poor breeding kink would go into overdrive. He would absolutely adore seeing you pregnant—he’d be thrilled by the sight of you swollen with their child. It’s not just a visual thing; he loves doting on you during that time, thriving on the closeness and the proof that you need him. For Geto, your pregnancy solidifies his control and affection. (I fear he wouldn't let any of the maids touch you, so uh good luck spending nine months would him)

Gojo has unfortunately a lot of deeply ingrained issues, like being taken away from his parents way too young, which would lead to mommy issues. So when you're lactating. He'd develop a sort of fixation on it, barely saving enough for the kids, and once your milk starts drying up, he'd be ready to give you another one.

You're probably going to (unfortunately) end up with a lot of children. Producing more powerful sorcerers for the world and if there's an occasional non-sorcerer they'd be fine with that.

Now to add onto this how do the kids react to your situation:

Geto is extremely good at manipulation. As soon as your children are old enough to understand and remember things, he’d start planting the idea that you’re “sick.” That’s why you can’t leave, and that’s why you sometimes get “delusional” or lash out at him and Gojo. However, after one escape, Geto did snip your Achilles tendon, so good luck running after that.

So how do the children react, Naturally, they just believe him. Why would their dads lie to them? Their dads are heroes, the strongest, and honored. Who takes care of their sick mother who lashes out due to an illness. So, unfortunately, anytime you try to plead with them or tell them the truth, they'd think you're just "sick" and would probably cuddle you, tell you how much they love you, trying to make you feel better until your "meds" kick in. They'd likely pick up yandere tendencies themselves, thanks to the lovely example their fathers are setting. <3

Sorry for the ramble! I just know others commented about certain situations so I figured I'd just yap about it now.

[forsoobado137]

so for the nation revealed au, ik you mentioned that some ppl are weird about shipping the nations/crossing boundaries in general. I'm not sure if in terms of familial connection that America and England are more like father & son or brothers in ur au. And I'm not even sure if you write them as treating each other that way in modern days but I think it's safe to say you aren't writing them as any kind of romantic. so how do you think they would feel/react when confronted with the reality that there are many ppl out there who DO view their relationship as having potential for romance/sexual affairs? how would nations that are *firmly* family react? (btw hi! hope ur day is good, love ur page!)

I'm glad you like my page! Yeah, I don't think they would enjoy the shipping at all. I think they have a familial/platonic relationship. (DISCLAIMER: I DON'T HATE USUK IF YOU SHIP IT GOOD FOR YOU)

England just hates being shipped in general. It's a huge boundary cross for him, especially considering the nsfw stuff. If a ship about him is brought up, he'll angrily declare how much he hates it. Unfortunately, that doesn't do much to stop people. Some people even get angry at HIM for daring to not like shipping. He sees America as his son, so extra yikes points for incest.

America only likes ships when he finds them funny and it's not smut. Like if America found a fic about him being shipped with Denmark, he'd laugh his ass off reading it. But since he sees England as his kinda-sorta-dad, He finds usuk weird. He just happily avoids it and pretend it doesn't exist. If it's brought up, he'll try to change the subject and move on.

[yingleis]

I came across the baby Yichen ficlet and I'm absolutely in love with it 😍😍 can I request more of him? I'd love to see more of xiao Chen being bothered by zyz, or perhaps being attacked by a different demon and being rescued by the Definitely Very Evil Demon ZYZ

Hello! I'm glad you liked that ficlet :D and I'm sorry for the wait!! m(_ _)m

—

Look, Zhao Yuanzhou had not planned on returning to the Demon Hunting Bureau, especially not after he had confirmed that the Yunguang Jian was real and could definitely kill him.

(He isn't looking to die now, he has to locate Zhao Wan’Er’s disciple, has to ensure that she is safe before leaving, at the very least).

But something tugged at him, like a thirst that could not be quenched, an insistent and insatiable desire to return.

And well, Zhao Yuanzhou had always been one to follow his heart.

So there he was, and just in time too, to intercept a struggling Xiaochen from the claws of another demon.

Presumptuous, Zhao Yuanzhou huffs, his gaze zeroing in on where the demon had struck Xiaochen– nothing fatal, simply a shallow scratch that was bleeding sluggishly– the boy’s swordsmanship was clumsy but he could dodge well, at the very least.

Still, though, he finds that he doesn't like the sight of blood on Xiaochen, and the fact that this lowly demon had decided to pick on his mortal was as good as a personal affront.

Zhao Yuanzhou flashes forward, cutting between Xiaochen and the demon, scooping the boy into his arms and draws forth his power.

“Sleep,” Zhao Yuanzhou commands, directing the spell towards the pest.

The lesser demon barely has time to react before the one word spell hits him, and he collapses into an ugly heap on the ground, sound asleep.

Immediately after, a sharp elbow to his stomach reminds Zhao Yuanzhou of the boy in his arms, and he reluctantly releases Xiaochen from his grip.

“I– You–” the boy snaps, visibly disgruntled and flushing red with anger as he glares at Zhao Yuanzhou.

“No need to thank me,” Zhao Yuanzhou says, thoroughly amused by the boy’s reaction.

“I had it under control! I didn't need help, much less from a demon!” Xiaochen says, hackles rising.

Zhao Yuanzhou snorts. “You wouldn't have managed that.”

Not even the current owner of the Yunguang Jian stood a chance in a fight against him, what chance did Xiaochen have, unless he willingly handed himself over?

Xiaochen’s expression darkens (adorably so) at that, scowling as he declares, “I will be able to! Just you wait.”

“I can wait,” Zhao Yuanzhou agrees with a hum, deciding that he would have to visit more often, if Xiaochen was so prone to being attacked by demons.

(Definitely not because he wanted to test just how far he could push this adorable mortal, not at all).

He still had an eternity before him to live out, after all. What was a few decades spent on saving one waspish Xiaochen?

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

Ugh I am a swooning mess! Love how Bucky just boldy barges into her home all the time. I don’t know but somehow it’s so hot lol

Lemme show you how much I love this:

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

Uh, how dare ya, Barnes. I was actually hurt for her sake. But the fact that he can’t even look her in the eyes has me reeling. She seems to be growing on him and I love it! 💖💕

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

BUCKY BEING GENTLE?? Please, this is so monumental to me and I'm loving it so much! GOD I NEED HIM SO BAD 🥹💕😩

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

He's so persistent and intense, and it makes him so attraktive, omg.

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

Hell yeah, that’s what I'm talking about!!

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Omg, yessss!! My man is going for revenge 👀

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

I'm screaming and kicking my feet here. AAHH!! I love this so much. Internally gasped when I read this. Made me feel a little giddy honestly, he's just so intense and I love the way you write him!! 💕

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

Oh dear god, and now he listens to her and reacts to her calling his name. I'm done! 🥹🥺💜

I'm so glad you're back to delight us with your amazing writing. You wrote a masterpiece of a fic. Thank you so much! Hope the new year is treating you well so far!

smog & spirits: the rat king (mini-series)

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, fem reader, physical violence, angst, wound description, threats, some fluff, protective bucky, bucky barnes had issues, cults and religion mentioned, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: hi!! just wanted to say thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter and sticking with me!! i know i hadn't posted in forever with being busy with uni and all so it really made me happy that people still remembered this fic. this chapter (once again) was supposed to cover a lot more but i got carried away lol, so instead i'm posting this half and then the next half soon once i have it properly written up. anyway!! please enjoy!! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

taglist: @nash-dara @sebastians-love

main masterlist | series masterlist

Gertrude Crowley was a nervous woman.

It was the first thing you noticed about her; her movements were hesitant, as though she feared drawing too much attention. In the dim light, you noticed her face—worn, yes, but not aged beyond her years. Lines of worry etched her brow and framed her mouth. Her greying hair, streaked with darker remnants of its original chestnut hue, was hastily pinned beneath a weathered black scarf, frazzled tufts poking through the holes strewn throughout the fabric.

“Tea, Ms. Crowley?” You asked the woman. Despite your soft tone, the woman jumped in her seat, hand raising to her bosom as she took in a sharp breath.

“I suppose, Dear.” She squeaked in reply

You gave the older woman a reassuring smile, hoping to calm her fears. Her pale blue eyes darted away quickly, revealing a haunted expression. They glanced at you briefly, then withdrew as if frightened by what they might find. She fidgeted with her hands, the frayed edges of her gloves exposing trembling fingers.

“Tea is good for the soul, don’t you think?” You hummed to her softly, your upper half bent over your kitchen table, and you poured the steaming liquid into two cups. You hoped the woman wouldn’t comment on how the ceramic was chipped; the painted flowers faded from years of use. “Always so cold in The Warrens, it warms you up from the inside.”

Ms Crowley nodded stiffly, teacup rattling against its matching plate as she held it in trembling hands. You took a brief moment to observe her, eyes searching her appearance. Her clothing was plain but serviceable—a dark woollen cloak that hung unevenly over her frame, its hem damp and muddied from the streets. Beneath it, a simple grey dress fitted her modestly, cinched at the waist with a cracked but sturdy belt. A brass locket hung around her neck, glinting faintly when she shifted. Though practical and well-worn, her boots carried scuffs deep enough that you questioned if the dark fabric was her socks beneath.

She took a hesitant sip from her cup and looked up at you with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”

You settled into your seat, dragging your cup across the table's woodgrain. “How can I be of assistance?”

Ms Crowley hesitated, her lips thinning into a line as she contemplated a response. You wisely decided to allow her some space, and the steaming liquid cupped in your palm suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the world. 

The older woman stumbled over her words, once, twice, thrice before finally settling on a simple, “I..I have never met a witch before.”

You smiled down into your cup, elbows resting on the table as you slowly looked up at her through a strand of loose hair that had fallen across your forehead. “I think you will find witches are alike most people you would meet—just like any stranger you would pass on the street.”

She peered across the table—as if testing your own words against you. Her tired, pale blue eyes squinting as she examined you from head to toe. “I suppose… I suppose you’re right. And I suppose I should trust you. I ‘ave been told most witches are trustworthy.”

“We are.” You state simply, only pausing to take a sip from your cup. The warm liquid fills your belly, a soft hum escaping your throat as you tilt you head in thought. “We’re salesmen, in a way, sellin’ our wares. There will always be scam artists, a few among the many, but most of us are just makin’ ends meet.”

The older woman contemplates your words. She takes a sip, a long one, then nods in affirmation. “You’re right. I should have some faith.”

“Now, Ms. Crowley, how can I help you?” You query once again.

“Well… I don’t know how this all works…”

“Just tell me what troubles you. From the start, if possible.”

Before she could speak, the door creaked open behind you, breaking the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. The sound was faint, yet it resonated through the stillness like the tolling of a distant church bell. Your breath hitched, fingers tightening around the chipped teacup as a wave of unease swept through you. The air seemed heavier, colder—an unspoken warning curling down your spine.

“Spirit-raiser.”

That voice. Gravelly, familiar. Unwelcome. You sucked in a sharp breath, though it felt as though your ribcage had suddenly shrunk two sizes too small for your organs. The bruises still present across your abdomen ached as every muscle in your body tensed, a tangled knot of shock electrifying your nerves. But beyond that, beyond the anger and disbelief, there was a feeling far more treacherous: relief.

He returned.

Your head whipped around, posture immediately straightening as though your spine was a pole made of steel. There he was—Bucky Barnes, leaning in the doorway like he owned the place, his sharp, stormy eyes swept over you, then flicked briefly to Ms. Crowley, whose face drained of colour. The woman looked ready to bolt, her hands clutching the table's edge as if it might anchor her in place. You couldn’t blame her. A woman already so anxious over the idea of magic she had positively turned green the moment she entered your flat. Now she was face to face with the dreaded Bucky Barnes, the fucking menace of the Sootstone? Many in The Warrens likely hadn’t seen the man in person, maybe at a distance, or knew him through whispered tales. You certainly hadn’t encountered the man until he came crashing into your life, smog and all. 

“Bucky,” you said, his name slipping out before you could catch it. A string of curses nearly left your tongue along with it. How bittersweet could it be that despite all the hurt you felt, you still called him by a name so familiar? Too familiar. The taste of it burned on your tongue. Your heart slammed into a furious rhythm as what could only be described as a smirk graced his lips. How could he act like he hadn’t vanished from your life without so much as a goodbye? 

How could he turn up here and act like all was well and normal?

It had hurt when he had left; yes, that was to be expected. But these past few days, he had avoided you. At least, it felt like avoidance. You hadn’t heard a word from the Smog Boys since your beating at the hand of the Iron Rats, not even a whisper on the sharp winds that rolled in from the dock. Natasha would have told him. In what world would she not have told Bucky that his pet witch had missed the summons because she was trembling, bloodied and bruised on her own floor? 

You had convinced yourself that maybe it was for the better, an escape from Becca’s wrath and escape from the Smog Boys…

“I’m busy.” The words escaped you before you could think.

He raised his brows in disbelief. Your toes curled in their boots, cringing at your own blunt tone. But then again, had he just expected everything to return to normal?

“I need’a favour.” He stepped further into the room, his boots thudding against the floorboards as he surveyed the space with casual indifference. His gait was smooth, gaze unbothered. A morbid part of you wished you could inspect his back and see the damage you caused. It didn’t seem to bother him or impede his movements.

Ms. Crowley made a small, frightened noise, her trembling hands going to her locket as though it might ward off his presence. “I—perhaps I should come back later…”

“What’re you doin’ here?” you demanded, the words sharper than you intended, cutting over Ms. Crowley’s muttering. 

“As I said, I need’a favour.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms as you fought to keep your composure. 

“A favour?” you repeated, the words dripping with scepticism. “After everythin’, you show up here and ask for a favour?”

Ms. Crowley flinched at the tone of your voice, but you couldn’t stop now. Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest crack in his facade of nonchalance.

“Watch it,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t want to push me.”

“And you don’t want to push me neither, Barnes,” You shot back, planting your hands on the table. “You don’t get to leave without so much as a ‘thank you’ and then show up here, actin’ like I owe you somethin’?”

“You say that, spirit-raiser, but…” He sucked on his teeth, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he looked down at you, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets as he sighed through his nose. “I just spent the last four days cleanin’ up your mess.”

Your brows drew inward, confusion slipping through. The entire time you had spent in misery, licking your wounds and nursing your broken heart, he had been out there defending you? 

A devilish expression crossed his face. “You really thought you could, what? Walk on over to Grimrow unnoticed while under my protection? Do you realise how long it has taken me to talk the Rat King down from marching over the Sootline and wagin’ war ‘cause of you?”

“They crossed the Sootline. They pursued me.” You rebutted, though even your voice wavered, unsure.

“Yeah.” His head tilted, eyes squinting. “You better be praisin’ whatever fuckin’ witch god you follow, 'cause that little fuck up on their end is the only reason why you’re still here playin’ good little spirit-raiser.”

You swallowed. Hard. 

“They hurt me.” You confessed, voice steadying.

“Yeah, I know. Nat told me. Good thing your pretty little face has all healed up. That’s your only fuckin’ worth to me right now after all the trouble you’ve caused.” His words stung; maybe you would’ve believed them true. But you got the sense he was being harsh for the sake of venting frustrations. He wouldn’t even catch your eye as the insults rolled off his tongue. 

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with tension. You could feel Ms. Crowley’s gaze on you. Bucky’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening as his eyes finally lifted and bore into yours. His expression was unreadable, a carefully laid mask to cover whatever real emotion raged behind his stormy blue eyes.

Then, to your surprise, Ms. Crowley’s feeble voice cut through the silence. 

“I-I-I should go now—”

You whirled around.

“No,” you snapped, cutting her off before she could rise. Ms. Crowley froze, wide-eyed and trembling, her teacup rattling slightly in her unsteady hands. For a brief moment, you thought Bucky might let her stay, that he’d simply loom in the corner, his presence a warning but nothing more.

But then Bucky huffed a sharp breath, irritation flashing across his face as he shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Get the fuck out,” he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument, his eyes sliding to meet the older woman's as you made a noise close to a whimper. “And keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about all this.”

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, her gaze darting between the two of you. With a frightened nod, she scrambled to her feet, clutching her bag and locket close to her chest.

“Apologies. I ain’t sayin’ a thing. Not a word. I swear.” she stammered, her voice a whisper as she made a beeline for the door.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, you turned to Bucky, a glare sharp enough to cut steel fixed on your face.

“You didn’t have to scare her off like that!” you snapped, grabbing the teacups and stalking toward the sink.

“A waste of fuckin’ time is what she was,” Bucky replied casually, his voice dripping with indifference.

“She was a client,” you shot back, setting the cups into the sink with more force than necessary. “A payin’ client. I need clients, Barnes.”

Bucky leaned against the counter, arms folded, watching you. “You’re actin’ like I don’t pay you triple what they’re offerin’.”

You dipped your hands further into the soapy water, pressing your palms flat against the metal bottom as you sighed, momentarily closing your eyes in exasperation. “You don’t get to decide who’s worth my time. This is my place. My work. You can’t just—”

“I thought Nat was exaggeratin’,” Bucky cut over you, his voice low but carrying an edge that made your stomach churn.

You stiffened, your grip on the cup tightening. “Exaggeratin’ about what?”

“About this.”

Your eyes flew open as his hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him with an infuriating gentleness. His thumb brushed over your jaw, skimming the faint bruise that lingered there, and his eyes narrowed as they traced the fading split in your lip. A shiver raced down your spine, and you jerked your head away, pulling free of his grasp.

“It’s nothin’,” you muttered, returning to the sink.

“Don’t look like nothin’,” he countered, his tone sharp. “Let me see the rest.”

You froze, your hands hovering over the sink. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he snapped, moving closer. His voice dropped, carrying a dangerous edge. “I need to see what they did to you.”

You shook your head, your pulse roaring in your ears. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.”

Bucky let out a low growl of frustration, and before you could react, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. His other hand went to your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Bucky, stop,” you protested, grabbing at his wrists. The soapy water made your hands slick, his skin slipping from your grasp. “This isn’t—”

“Quit fightin’ me,” he said sharply, his eyes flashing with something raw and unyielding. “I need to know.”

His words silenced you, leaving you to stare up at him in stunned disbelief. The fight drained out of you, replaced by a reluctant acceptance as you lifted your hands, a trail of water rolling down to your elbows. Your head dipped, staring down at his shoes as droplets dripped onto his boots. With a defeated sigh, you rested your palms on his chest, pressing the wet skin into his buttoned shirt until you could feel the warmth of his body. With a grunt, he tugged your blouse from where it was tucked into your shirt, ripping the fabric upward until it exposed your belly.

The air seemed to leave the room as his gaze fell on the mottled bruises that painted your abdomen, the angry purples and blues. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his hand hovered over the worst of the damage, his fingers brushing against your side with an uncharacteristic hesitance.

You heard him swallow audibly, adam’s apple bobbing. A shiver ran down your spine as his thumb carefully ran up to your sternum, then across the band of your brassiere. 

“How many ribs did you break?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You sucked in a sharp breath as the hair across your body rose on end. Tingles blossomed across your skull as his hand swept down to the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down to inspect the damage still hidden. 

“Three.”

His grunt of acknowledgement was quiet, but the tension dominating his frame was unmistakable. He stepped back abruptly, running a hand through his hair, tongue running over his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you fight back?” The question gave you near vertigo. 

“I did.” You lie through your teeth

The gangster shook his head, hands resting on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“Bullshit. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve felt it, doll.” Your gut clenched as he half motioned towards his back. “If you wanted to fight back, they would’ve been dead long before they touched you.”

You pause. He was right. He was entirely right. You hadn’t fought back because you were what? Dejected and defeated? Too swept up in your own pity? Living in your mother's shadow? Or was it just the shadow you had created for yourself?

“You’re punishin’ yourself, aren’t ya? Hm?”

“I’m not lyin’ Barnes—” You begin to speak, voice raising as hysteria begins to bubble within you. Why was he asking you these things? Why was he pretending to care?

“Why?” He cuts over you, 

You turned away, refusing to respond. “I think you should leave now.”

He was silent for a beat. Then you heard the shuffle of clothing as he picked up his coat and swept it over his muscled shoulders. “I still need that favour.”

You sigh, an exaggerated noise as you spin to face him with a scowl. “What now? Can’t it wait?”

“You’re expected. At a meetin’.” 

“Meetin’?” You echoed.

“About what happened. With the Iron Rats.” 

“I thought you said you dealt with it—” You bite back, irritation flaring. 

“Would you just shut your fuckin’ mouth for a second and listen?” Bucky cut over you, voice raised. You clamp your mouth shut in surprise.

“It’s the Rat King.” Bucky meets your gaze. “He wants to meet you.”

—

You would have never described Bucky Barnes as nervous, but the walk to the Sootline almost had you questioning that assumption. Bucky kept his pace steady, though you noticed the subtle clench of his jaw and the occasional twitch of his hand at his side. It wasn’t the demeanour of a nervous man—no, Bucky Barnes didn’t do nervous—but something unexplainable was simmering beneath the surface.

The streets of the Warrens were quieter than usual, the normal hum of life dampened. The sun had grown low in the sky, the usual grey fog warming to a diffused orange and pink glow. The cobblestones were slick beneath your boots, liquids you wouldn’t dare identify, leaving a sheen across the ground that reflected the faint glow of lanterns. You adjusted your coat, tucking it closer against the chill, and cast a sidelong glance at Bucky. 

"Barnes, you alright?" you asked cautiously, breaking the silence. You weren’t one to pry, but the energy engulfing the gangster was strange.

“We’re late,” he muttered, his voice clipped.

You frowned, the sharpness of his tone needling at you. “Well, if you’d told me sooner than five minutes ago that I was needed—”

“And you would have come?.” His words were abrupt, cutting through your protest like a blade. “You do ‘ave a habit of ignorin’ my summons.”

Your jaw clamped shut, a heavy silence falling over the both of you. Further down the twisting, wonky street, you could see streetgoers dashing into nearby stores and homes. Above in the stacked homes that towered above the streets, faces cautiously peeked out, watching as Bucky and you marched past. You observed a group of three children ushered away by their mother, her tightly shutting the rickety window with a grim expression.

“It would be best if you kept your mouth shut during this. Only speak when spoken to. Just agree unless I say otherwise.” Bucky finally spoke, voice gruff.

“Why?” You pry, voice unsure.

“‘Cause I can’t help you if you say somethin’ stupid ‘n end up gettin’ yourself in more trouble.”

Your steps faltered, confusion flashing across your face. “Why do you suddenly care?”

His lip twitched, but he continued with his persistent gait. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You’re scarin’ me—”

“I have a reputation to uphold, spirit-raiser. Can’t have these rats thinkin’ I’ve gone weak ’cause of some bird.”

The words landed heavily, and you bit back the sting of their dismissal. “What does your reputation got to do with me?”

His stride didn’t falter, but his gaze flicked toward you, brittle and intense. “If I can’t protect you, then what’s to say I can protect the whole of The Warrens, huh? What’s to stop them from marchin’ over the Sootline?”

“So, what’s this, then? You strikin’ a deal, handin’ me over to them, actin’ like you don’t care so they don’t think you’re weak ‘cause of some bird?”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead a long time ago.” He huffed out in an empty laugh. He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The weight of his stare rooted you in place. “No, doll, those rats… they fucked up.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he continued, his voice low and deliberate, every word laced with venom. “I’m gonna get them to bend the fuckin’ knee. Show them whose the real fuckin’ King around here.”

—

The Sootline River separated the two territories like a jagged scar, its sluggish current carrying the city’s filth toward the sea. On either bank, the Smog Boys and Iron Rats assembled in tense lines, a mix of swagger and unease flickering across their faces. The lanterns they carried swayed, casting fragmented shadows on the water as the sun finally slipped beyond the horizon, coating the land in creeping darkness, its coffin-like suffocation only exaggerated by the smoke and ash from the Smokestacks.

Bucky stood at the river’s edge, his posture deceptively relaxed, his hands buried in his coat pockets. His gaze locked onto the figure across the river: Varlan Crey—The Rat King. Varlan was everything Bucky wasn’t—brash, loud, and lumbering, his bulk swathed in a tattered black coat with yellow stitching. His grin was wide, but his teeth were uneven, lending him the air of a predator more accustomed to snapping than scheming. His gang flanked him, a pack of diseased rats, restless and waiting for a signal.

“Barnes,” Varlan called, his voice carrying easily across the water, gravelly and full of mock cheer. “Shame we ain’t meetin’ unda different circumstances.”

“Varlan,” Bucky replied, his tone steady, almost clipped. He didn’t move a muscle, his stance radiating a nearly unbearable calm.

Varlan cocked his head, his smirk widening. “I’m guessin’ this is the bird in question?” He nodded towards you.

You froze under his scrutiny, your skin prickling under the weight of his gaze. The air seemed colder now, and your chest tightened as though the river’s chill had seeped into your bones. 

Bucky gave a single, deliberate nod. “Yes.”

Varlan snorted softly. “A bird from The Warrens, crossing inta my territories ‘n causing a ruckus amongst my boys… you undastand how this looks bad, Barnes?”

Bucky didn’t flinch. His smooth and unhurried tone carried across the water like a blade. “I can. But it weren’t her that was causing the ruckus now, was it? I’m guessin’ these lies you’re tellin’ yourself are why you so recklessly declared war before examinin’ the facts.”

Varlan chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. “Facts,” he repeated, shaking his head as though the word itself amused him. “You’re soundin’ more and more like them fancy wankers up in The Flower Districts, Barnes. Especially in those fine tailored suits a yours.”

A chorus of low laughter rumbled from the Iron Rats side of the bridge, the lines of men with their yellow handkerchiefs grinning amongst themselves. 

“Oh, I can recommend you a tailor, Crey,” Bucky said lightly, his voice laced with faint amusement. “I know one who gives discounts for friends.” 

It was now time for the Smog Boys to stir behind Bucky, muffled chuckles rippling through the crowd. A flicker of a smile ghosted across Bucky’s lips, though his gaze remained fixed on Varlan. With the subtle jab landed, Varlan bristled. His shoulders stiffened, and his smirk turned brittle. He barked a short laugh, more bark than humour.

“Well,” he said, his voice sharper now. “Let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?”

“Go ahead,” Bucky replied.

You glanced at him, searching for some clue about his thinking, but his expression gave away nothing. Beside you, the Smog Boys settled, hands tucked into their pockets and chests puffed out as they eyed the Iron Rats across the river. Their stillness wasn’t as practised as Bucky's. He held the type of quiet that preceded violence, the kind that made your stomach churn. As you scanned their faces, you noted how young some men were, barely out of boyhood. It might have been a cause for concern, but you knew many sought out Bucky’s leadership out of desperation. Their energy was much better placed under the guidance of someone like Bucky instead of them turning to the streets where their violence and frustration would run rampant. Regardless of their age or status, you had noticed one common theme among the Smog Boys—none were left unfed, and their clothes were always without holes. The same could not be said for other less fortunate souls who braved The Warrens alone. 

“I admit,” Varlan began, dragging out the word with a performative sigh. “That I may ‘ave been… hasty. But ya can’t blame me, not with the information I was told.”

“I guess so,” Bucky replied simply. 

Bucky’s lack of reaction agitated the larger man, a cross expression forming on his greasy face. Then his smirk returned, sly and serpentine. “Well, I am impressed by ya…little investigation. Touched a nerve, did it?”

A ripple of unease passed through you as Varlan Crey lifted his brows, head tilted to match his devious, wide-eyed expression. A subtle dig at Bucky’s involvement—or worse, his attachment to you? You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of both their gazes shift momentarily to you. 

By some miracle, Bucky didn’t react to the provocation. Instead, his voice came low and steady. “I take it you spoke with the witch?”

You felt your face react before you could steel yourself, face scrunching in confusion. Witch? What witch was Bucky referring to? He certainly wasn’t referring to you—you had never met the Rat King before, let alone spoke with him about your misdeeds of crossing into his territories. In retrospect, with the gravity of the situation weighing upon you, it was a foolish assumption to make thinking you could walk into Grimrow unimpeded or unidentified. In recent months, it seemed everyone and anyone knew who you were before you knew them. It was as if you walked your life with a ginormous red hot brand across your forehead that simply said: Bucky Barnes!

“Spoke? Yes,” Varlan said, his voice emerging in a drawl. “Come ‘ere, girl.” 

He turned slightly, and a figure emerged from the Iron Rats’ crowd.

Wanda.

Wanda.

Your chest tightened, bruising squeezing painfully. She walked forward with her usual unnerving grace, her head high, her eyes sweeping the scene before her. Her auburn locks bounced across her white dress, sheepskin draped over her shoulders to protect her from the chill. Coven garb. She was calm. Too calm. The shock of seeing her in the Church of Light clothing almost made you physically recoil. You had never seen the attire in the flesh, but you remembered how your mother had described it—white to symbolise the light and the chosen babe, the Light-bringer. Diviner. 

The voices of the past echoed those names in your mind.

Light-bringer…

Your mother had always been short in her tales, too afflicted by the trauma and illness that had ruled most of her life away from the Coven. She had only spoken of the cruelty and sickness in those temple walls. The white was purity, the end of times, the rapture… but also a symbol of their devotion. The crimson blood of their self-inflicted or sometimes forced punishments showed up best on a fresh canvas. 

How had Wanda inserted herself in your life so quickly? How long had Leofric and his coven of fucking madness been tailing you? And how had Bucky known to bring her? You glanced at him, desperate for a flicker of understanding, but his face remained devoid of emotion.

“It seems my friend, Barnes ‘ere, is obsessed with facts.” The Rat King spoke, pulling you from your confused daze. He wheezed out a laugh, a phlegm-filled cough quickly following as he spat the glob into the filthy churning Sootline.

“Go on then, girl. State the facts.” Varlan instructed with a bark.

Wanda folded her hands in front of her, her voice level and composed. “I invited her to Grimrow.”

A surprised murmur swept over the crowd.

“The Church of Light has been expanding its temple across the Sootline. I was honoured to become the Head Priestess for our new build—”

“Yeah, yeah, cut to the facts, girl.” Varlan cut over Wanda. 

The auburn woman's eyes sparked with something that could only be described as irritation, but it was only a flicker as she expertly composed herself. “I invited her over to celebrate with me, as we have been friends since childhood.”

The word friends felt like a slap. Or even better, a well-placed stab to the abdomen. Your throat tightened as you stared at her, horrified by her ease in lying. How could she say it so smoothly? So convincingly? You tried to form words, but they caught in your throat, leaving you in silence.

“You agree,” Varlan pressed, his voice breaking through your haze, “that you were invited?”

Your lips parted, but no sound came, head spinning. Finally, you forced yourself to speak. “Yes.”

Varlan’s sly eyes narrowed, assessing you. “You say you are both friends but… the bartender and my men witnessed a fight between ya both,” he said, his tone deceptively casual. “Why?”

Wanda quickly stepped in, her voice carrying a faint trace of sorrow. “I had expressed my concern. I wished she would stop workin’ for the Smog Boys out of fear for her safety.”

Varlan’s amusement flickered across his face, but you caught the subtle way his eyes darted toward Bucky. It was a jab meant to provoke. Bucky didn’t bite. He remained as unmoving as stone.

“And what do you say?” Varlan asked, turning his attention back to you.

Wanda’s eyes burned into your own, her chin lifting. You could’ve sworn you saw the ghost of a smirk across her lips as she watched you squirm. You couldn’t claim she was lying, or this elaborate fabrication would fall apart. You couldn’t gauge her motive. Was it to make you feel you owed her and the Church of Light? Was it to protect you? Plant seeds of doubt within Bucky, and make it seem like you had hidden parts of your life from him?

“She’s tellin’ the truth,” you surrender, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

“And do you have evidence? Of this letter sent to you to invite you?”

Your stomach dropped further, quickly scrambling to come up with a believable lie. “No… No, I burn all my old mail. I use it as kindlin’.”

“Convenient,” Varlan spat out with a slow shake of his head. “Very convenient.”

“I have evidence,” Wanda interjected smoothly, producing a rolled parchment from somewhere on her person. “It is the reply she sent me, confirmin’ the date.”

Bucky’s shoulders subtly relaxed beside you. Had he known about the lie, or was he being strung along by her games, too? Had the two spoken as well? What lies had she told him? Worst of all was the flare of jealousy in your gut—the thought of him talking with that woman, the idea of him trusting her over you—the weight of betrayal was suffocating. Wanda had gone to unimaginable lengths, forging a note in your handwriting to solidify this ruse.

“You wrote this reply?” Varlan asked, holding the parchment aloft.

“Yes.” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

Varlan examined the note for a long moment before nodding. “Well, seems you’re right, Barnes. My men were in the wrong. “

“So, we have an understanding now, Crey?” Bucky asked, his voice steady.

“Believe we do, Barnes,” Varlan replied. “Your woman can walk free.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, his hand flexing at his side. For a moment, he didn’t respond; his cold blue eyes locked on Varlan like a wolf sizing up its prey.

“That’s it?” Bucky asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. “She walks free, and we’re supposed to call it even?”

Varlan spread his hands in a gesture of mock generosity. “What more do you want, Barnes? She crossed into my territory. I’ve agreed to let her go, no harm done. This should be the end of it.”

Bucky let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He glanced down at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at Varlan. “No harm done? Is that what ya think?”

“She’s standin’ here, ain’t she?” Varlan said, his tone oily, his confidence growing in the face of no immediate retaliation. “No blood spilt, no lastin’ damage. Consider this a…generous gesture from me.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. Without another word, he stalked toward the bridge.

The movement drew startled murmurs from both sides.

“What’s he doin’?” one of the Iron Rats hissed, his hand twitching toward his weapon.

“Hold!” Varlan snapped. “Let him come if he wants.” There was a cool confidence to his tone, a confidence that was likely misplaced. 

“Barnes,” Varlan said, his voice rising as Bucky drew closer with deliberate, measured steps. “There ain’t no need for this. I’ve said the matter is settled.”

Bucky said nothing as he reached the other side. His hand slid into his coat, and when it emerged, he held a knife. The blade gleamed in the lantern light, its sharp edge catching the flickering flames.

The Iron Rats stiffened as if momentarily stunned and unable to make a move.

“Let’s be clear,” Bucky said quietly, his voice cutting through the tension like the edge of his blade. “You think you can cross me, threaten a woman under my protection, and walk away with a few pretty words? Is that what ya think, Crey?”

Varlan stepped back instinctively, his misplaced confidence crumbling as Bucky loomed over him. “Barnes, this is unnecessary—”

Bucky moved faster than anyone expected. His boot struck Varlan’s chest in a brutal kick, sending the Rat King sprawling onto his back. Gasps erupted from the Iron Rats, a few finally thawing out enough to jerk forward, but were quickly off-put their heroism by the crowd of Smog Boys inching across the bridge, blades drawn and faces like jackals.

At some point in the chaos, you had lost sight of Wanda, the witch disappearing into the shadows and fog like a ghost in the night.

Varlan scrambled backwards, his hands raised in a panicked gesture of surrender. “Wait! Barnes, wait!”

Bucky crouched over him, the knife hovering dangerously close to Varlan’s throat. “Ya think this is a game, Crey? Well, let’s fuckin’ play then, huh?” he spat. 

“I—I didn’t mean for any of this!” Varlan stammered, his voice high with panic. “I swear, Barnes. Please!”

“Beg,” Bucky said, his voice cold and unrelenting.

Varlan’s face twisted with humiliation, but the knife at his throat left no room for pride. Slowly, he rose to his knees, his hands still outstretched in surrender but his entire form trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I was wrong. Please.”

“Louder,” Bucky demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Varlan cried, his voice cracking. “You can ‘ave the men, do what ya want with ‘em. Is that what you want? Please… just—”

Bucky gripped his balding head with a firm grip, directing Varlan’s watery, terrified eyes to look across the Sootline at you. You had a sudden epiphany, an understanding that Bucky had never been nervous. No. That strange energy, that twitchiness… it had been pure, unfiltered rage.

“Now, say sorry to her.” Bucky instructed, his voice near seething.

“I am sorry! I’m sorry for me actions. And my mens.” The Rat King cried out. Your gaze lifted to meet Bucky’s as he stared back across the Sootline at you. His grip on the man’s head tightened. “Please!”

“Bucky.” You finally spoke up, your voice soft as the breeze as it carried across the river.

As if your brief speech had broken a spell cast across the gangster, Bucky immediately straightened, his expression calm as he sheathed the knife. He reached out and patted Varlan’s head mockingly.

“Good little rat,” he murmured. “You know, I’m hostin’ a party soon. Maybe I’ll invite you, and you can dance and entertain me like the fuckin’ jester you are.”

Varlan’s humiliation was evident, his men exchanging uneasy glances. Bucky grinned wide, showing all his teeth.

“As for the men,” He said, his tone sharp as he turned to face the crowd of Iron Rats head-on. “The ones who crossed the border. Hand them over.”

Varlan hesitated for a moment, his pride still clinging stubbornly. But the weight of Bucky’s gaze, the threat of what he might do, was too much to bear. He nodded quickly, motioning to his men.

As if not wanting to anger the gangster further, the Iron Rats were quick to locate the three culprits and push them ahead, their expressions ashen with terror. Smog Boys emerged from the mist like spectres, grasping the men and dragging them across the bridge before they could escape and bolt back into the depths of Grimrow.

“Take them,” Varlan said hoarsely, his body sunken in defeat. “They’re yours.”

Bucky didn’t even look at them. He turned and crossed the bridge, hand grasping your forearm as he tugged you along. You frantically looked back, watching through the filthy haze as Varlan Crey stumbled back to his feet, cheeks burning, forehead slick with sweat. His men around him looked dejected, their beady eyes following you as you disappeared into the smog.

“Come,” Bucky uttered to you. “We have business to attend to.”

[waterfallofspace]

just wanted to say that i’ve missed your writing (especially d/azai and s/kk) and i loved your birthday fic for d/azai! you always come up with the best allergies! and i loved how urgent and desperate his reaction was— not ooc, but not how he’s usually written to respond to things and that made it even better! a few of my favorite parts…

“N- nohhht… notdone-!” 

“Oh fuck, are you oka-”

and

He mutters something through the gasping that might have been an apology before spinning further away and dipping once more with a full body shudder. 

and

“Sorry I- I hahhh… have to- I’mgonnakeep-

i hope you write more d/azai|s/kk because it’s sooo good!!!

awwww~ thank you so much non!!

gahhhh- really you have no idea, this means so much to me!! aksdjakgjsk~ I've definitely been slower working on things, had a lot of real life things to do, plus a bit of ~burn out~, but I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things soon!!

And truly, hearing that people not only like my work, but miss it when I'm not releasing fics?? It means more then I can put into words, thank you so much!!! (I'm not worthy hahaha~~ <3)

[acid-ixx]

You mention in the first story that the Batfam finally realizes where we are because jon showed Damian our picture while calling us his parent- so I was wondering about how Damian reacted to that? Like did he realize we’d left at that point or did he just get hit in the face with that info?

— related post !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated

a/n: y'all i have clogged nose and i hate it LMAO. anyways, i'm gonna write smth about this soon but damian's character for both the series again & again and this series is genuinely one of the more complicated to write because of how he's raised but it really goes like this—

"jon... what do you mean? that's my—"

he cuts himself off before he could continue running his mouth off. damian ignores the slight raise of jon's eyebrow, his thoughts running a mile every second.

his parent? no, never once in his life has damian considered you his parent, pushing you away whenever you try to bond with him. whatever gifts you gave him, no matter how small, or big, expensive, or inexpensive they are, he always makes a show of ripping them away right in front of you.

he told you himself. you are not his parent, never will be his parent, you'll never replace talia's standing, and there will never be a time where damian will see you as one. dick, jason, tim, literally anyone can consider you as theirs, but damian is a product of two genetically perfect individuals— you are imperfect, and it's not your business to coddle him just because you are merely married to his father in paper.

no matter how much you softly gaze at him with loving eyes, invite him with welcoming arms, praise his passion for drawing; all you'll do is weaken him and damian hates feeling weak, hates how you tempt him into melting into a puddle. that automatically makes you a burden in his book.

he hates you, and he should've been glad you disappeared off of the face of the manor.

yet the record stands still: why are you with jon? why do you hold him like he is the world in the picture? what does he mean by "sorry, damian, but me and my parents are gonna go to the carnival later!"? you, as in, bruce's spouse? why are you with them, of all people?

... why does jon get to have fun, with you? and he doesn't...?

and yet he couldn't reply to him, not when his friend babbles on for longer about his... parent. about how you, make him feel so complete. that you'll be the one helping him with his science fare project, how you two spent the night yesterday building a volcano, how you treat him with ice cream every time he achieves a good enough grade for a subject, how you, you, you always spoil jon, always comfort him, read him bedtime stories, matched bracelets, sung karaoke together, played board games with each other, picked him up from school, help him with assignments—

the more jon goes on, the more damian wants to rip his hair out. he doesn't know, doesn't know why he's suddenly pissed. is it because jon can never shut up, or because he couldn't shut up about you? about how perfect you are apparently? how you're the ideal parent he never once bat an eye on? the domestic life jon seems to brag about, it's something damian secretly wanted, and it's all ripped away from him.

it makes damian wonder, would you have done the same for him?

he knows it in himself, that if he hadn't pushed you away, he might've been in jon's place.

[wtfsteveharrington]

don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie

content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 

mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**

she/her pronouns used for reader!

author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3

word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!

If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 

In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 

He’s protective, that’s all. 

The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 

“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”

It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 

The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 

you drive me crazy when you start to tease

You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.

you could bring the devil to his knees

Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -

“Holy shit.”

No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 

You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”

The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 

He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.

You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”

The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 

feel my heat takin' you higher. 

burn with me, heaven's on fire. 

paint the sky with desire.

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 

He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 

It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.

Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 

Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”

Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 

You’re coughing. 

Like, way more than normal. 

Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 

“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 

Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 

When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 

It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..

Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?

You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 

“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 

Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 

“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 

“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.

He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 

You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.

The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 

Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.

Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.

He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.

Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.

“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”

Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.

“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.

“Huh.”

It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”

Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.

“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”

You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.

Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.

“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”

You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 

“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”

Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.

“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.

You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 

“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 

His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 

“Then kiss me.”

Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.

He’s not though. 

Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 

Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 

Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.

The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 

Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 

Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 

Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 

“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 

The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 

You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.

Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.

Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 

You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 

He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.

"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.

It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.

Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."

You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.

Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.

All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.

It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.

Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 

“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 

Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.

"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"

Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."

Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.

His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.

Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.

You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.

There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.

This is crazy.

Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.

It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.

He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.

Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."

Eddie's going to fucking combust.

Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."

And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.

Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.

Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"

He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."

Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”

The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."

Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.

Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.

Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.

You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 

There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 

You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 

Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 

Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 

Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 

“How does she feel, Munson?”

“Like fuckin’ heaven.”

Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.

He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.

To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.

He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.

Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.

“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”

You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.

Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.

And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 

You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.

Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.

He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.

You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.

"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.

He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.

“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”

Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”

Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.

You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.

Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.

“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”

Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.

And they’re both moaning.

Neither pulling away.

Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.

It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.

Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.

Right?

So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.

And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?

Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 

The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 

Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”

It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.

You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 

Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”

He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.

There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 

Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.

He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 

Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 

Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.

He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 

It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 

“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 

His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.

Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 

You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 

Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 

Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 

Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”

[majinbangus]

I’m now obsessed with dog!Simon, thank you for the nourishment for my enclosure. I shall now go feral /pos

i'm so glad you like the concept <3 》 18+

"I'm sorry... what?"

You stare blankly at Soap. He stares back, a tad reprimanding. Ghost hovers behind him, naked and expectant, raptorial smirk on his face. They've both blocked you in the bathroom.

Soap crosses his arms, looking a little disappointed in you. "When I got you your dog, I thought it was implied that you take care of him. That includes bathing him."

"But he's not really—"

"He can take care of himself most days, but he's still yours to take care of, sweetheart. He'll need at least one bath once a week. If you can't do that, we can't keep him."

There's a part of you that thinks that may be for the best—if that happens, maybe you can talk Soap into getting you an actual dog—but when you look over Soap's shoulder to eyeball Ghost, you can't help but feel a slight pang at the thought of losing him. Or perhaps that's just the thought of disappointing Soap and Ghost, and going back on the compromise. Whatever the reason, you can't bring yourself to get rid of him. He's here now, might as well keep him, right?

"I'll... take care of him." You finally say after a minute of contemplating, and Soap's face breaks out with a proud grin.

"I'll leave you to it then."

Without much else to say, Soap walks out of the bathroom, leaving you alone with Ghost. You shuffle nervously between your feet. "Uh, you can stay there. I'm gonna warm up the water for you."

He doesn't say anything as he watches you. Doesn't say anything at all, even when the water is ready and the tub is full, or when you stiffly guide him into the bath, stripping down to your underthings so you don't get your clothes wet. You sit on the tub's edge, cupping water into your hand and start rubbing along his shoulders and neck, and that's when he makes a small noise, groaning at the gentle touch of your fingers.

"That feels good, pet. Think I like it when you clean me."

"Anytime." The word is out before you can stop it. You start massaging your fingers into his scalp, getting his hair wet. "I mean, you know, I'll take care of you whenever you need it."

"And if I need this every night?"

Your fingers play with his hair and you stubbornly refuse to meet his gaze. You know he's looking at you. Daring you to look him in the eyes. To challenge him. You don't, instead—

"Then I'll give you this every night."

You roll over and show him your belly.

In your peripheral, you see him smirk. Faster than you can react, his hand darts out to grab your wrist. You don't try to fight it as he pulls your hand under the water, brushing your knuckles against the apex of his legs. There's a twitch as he wraps your fingers it. You slowly start to pump your hand and he gifts you with a deep groan.

"Don't I have an attentive master?" Ghost praises and you gulp, but fasten your pace.

Soap said it was your responsibility to take care of him, so that's exactly what you'll do.

-

When you've finally cleaned and dried both yourself and Ghost, you both wander back to the living room where Soap awaits, watching a movie. You go and join him, pecking his cheek when you sit down.

"Come, Ghost." You pat the spot next to you, and he obeys, pulling you into his lap once he gets on the couch. His hands wander shamelessly, catching Soap's attention.

"Good bath?" Soap asks knowingly, chuckling at your dazed expression.

"Uh-huh."

He chuckles at your simple reply and shifts to pat your head. "That's a good girl."

[thelogicalghost]

I'm sure Nate isn't homophobic - the show makes it pretty clear that all his catholic guilt is directed firmly inwards and we never see even a hint of disapproval over others' personal lives - but he's still an older white guy and definitely defaults to cishet assumptions.

Which makes me desperately want, like, a 5+ type fic of gay flirting for the con where Nate progressively gets his mind blown.

Because Sophie flirting with a woman might throw him for a beat or two, but she's a world class grifter and an actress, of course she can flirt with anyone

And then Parker had to be taught how to flirt in the first place and she's Parker so sure, she's completely faking it either way, she has no internal biases, okay

The first time a man chats up Hardison and the hacker reacts exactly the same way he does when he tries to flirt with women, Nate is so glad Sophie takes over the comms to give flirting advice because it takes him half a minute to recalibrate and edit his expectations

But then Sophie's failing to hook a mark and Elliot steps in without missing a beat, flashing his farm boy smile, and Nate is finally like, "how is it that I'm the only one here who's surprised by any of this?" and the team just shrugs and goes "idk that sounds like a you problem"

The +1 is the only time Nate attempts it and they all agree to never try that again because it was awkward and embarrassing for everyone involved

[reiderwriter]

505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?” 

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 

“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 

“Y/N, please I mean it-” 

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 

“Stroke it.” 

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 

“Spread your legs. Now.” 

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.” 

“Did you think about me in the shower?” 

“Spencer, I can expl-” 

“Answer me. Please.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 

But he wasn't in a giving mood. 

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 

“You're manipulative, you know that?” 

“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 

“Then come and take it.” 

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.

[orionremastered]

I really love the 911 texting post with the batboys! Quite accurate imo, lol.

If it's possible, may I request how the batboys react to their gf being pouty and touchy with them cuz they've been away for a long time for a big mission?

Thank you! Tho tbh damian would get more than ten assassins. like twenty minimum

Masterlist

Batboys Returning from a Long Mission

Dick Grayson

"You're back!"

Dick's tired eyes take in the apartment. It's clean— cleaner than it's ever been— and there's practically a feast on the kitchen counter.

You fling your arms around him, smiling into his chest. Slowly, he wraps his arms around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. "Missed you," he murmurs.

You squeeze him tighter and he winces in pain, letting out a hiss. Your head immediately snaps up and your boyfriend sighs. "I got stabbed— but it's not that bad, I promise— and had to get it stitched some. Relax."

Still, you frown and lift up his shirt, inspecting the stitches on his side.

"See? Fine."

"It doesn't look fine."

"Right... anyway, did you cook something? I'm starving."

You look back into his eyes and nod repeatedly, your own eyes sparkling.

Jason Todd

A soft thud sounds from behind you before arms wrap around your waist. "Hey," he whispers into your ear before kissing you on the cheek. "What're you doing?"

He's climbed through the window. Again.

"I'm about to go to work," you reply, twisting in his hold to return the embrace. "But I'll call in sick and spend today with you."

Jason pulls back and frowns. "No, you should go to work."

"But you just got back!"

"I can wait." Something in his eyes told you he really couldn't, but he wasn't going to say that.

You huff and begin dragging him to the couch. He complies with a sigh, lying down on the cushions and wrapping his arms around you when you lay on top of him.

"I missed you," you tell him.

"I missed you too."

Tim Drake

You wake up to Tim having draped himself on top of you during the night, his hand resting on your cheek. You pull him impossibly closer and he stirs, eyes opening to watch you with a questioning look.

"When did you get back?"

The sunlight streams through the curtains, bathing his face in a golden glow. A smile cracks onto his face before he buries it into your neck with a groan. "Late," is all he says, a chuckle in his tone.

"You should get some more sleep," you chide, running a hand through his dark hair.

"But—"

"I can make you breakfast or lunch for when you wake up again but you need rest," your tone leaves no room for argument, yet he scowls before putting his face back in the crook of your neck.

"Stay?"

"...okay, I'll stay."

Damian Wayne

There's nothing that made you smile more than seeing him again. And directly after you made him breakfast and let him rest, you dragged him out to a restaurant for lunch.

"I would've been happy with just eating at home," he tells you, holding your hand as you walk back to your apartment.

"But I wanted to do something nice for you," you pout. "And then you had to pay."

"I would've never let you pay in a million years," Damian says, face scrunching in disgust and the thought. "So it was me saying sorry for being gone so long."

You smile and lean into his side. "I'm just glad you're back."

He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your shoulders. "I'm glad to be back."

[tired-teacher-blog]

Adult Bakugou is worlds apart from how he used to be as a teen.

His prominent scowl is now replaced with a more relaxed expression, and his tense shoulders are now a lot looser.

He is no longer on edge and wishing for everyone's demise, as his years of experience in the pro hero world have taught him patience and empathy.

He's had fan girls lining up for a chance to receive some kind of acknowledgement from him since his first years as a UA student, and it's been -for the longest time- something that further pissed him off and ruined his mood as he didn't need the added attention.

_ "I still cannot believe you're the same guy who yelled at me and stormed out when I first confessed my feelings, at that moment you were as bratty as you used to be when we were still in school." you murmured softly in remembrance, tracing the faint scar on his right cheek, the same one he acquired years ago during that ruthless war everyone still remembers to this day.

To you, he was that one annoying friend whom you had to sit down and listen to while he complained about the countless love letters clogging up his locker, so when the day came -not too long ago- that you shyly revealed your feelings for the man, his reaction was nothing short of expected.

_ "Huh? What brought this on all of a sudden?" he tilted his head to meet your gaze, blinking a few times as a hint of blush dusted the tips of his ears, "besides, I already told you I only reacted the way I did because I thought you were making fun of me."

_ "That's fair, but I'm glad you gave me a chance to explain myself.." you paused for a second to adjust your posture and straddle his slender waist instead of leaning against him like you had been moments before, a smile found its way to your lips as you carried on, "you've really come a long way from the brat you used to be."

His thin eyebrows raised in apparent surprise, but his firm grasp on your thighs remained unshaken, "I have?"

_ "You truly have." a giggle escaped you as you cradled his handsome face, leaning in to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before pulling back to admire the mysterious smirk curving up his lips.

_ "Care to explain?" but he didn't really need the clarification, he is one of the most intelligent people you know, and is sure to have noticed the change occuring in himself without anyone spelling it out, but you still went along with his charade, just to please him.

_ "Well, let's see.." your gaze shifted and lips pursed as you tapped your chin in fake contemplation before continuing, "you're more tolerable now, I mean you're kinda tame and boring like a sweet grandpa, and also.."

_ "Hey come on," he interrupted your obvious trick with an amused chuckle and a playful smack on your butt, "well I still got the girl didn't I?"

_ "Yes you did."

His eyes gleamed hearing your words, and his arms slid up to surround your back and bring you closer to himself before groaning the demand you knew was coming, "kiss me then."

That was all it took for you to close the remaining distance between you two and claim his lips in a breathtaking lip lock.

[roosterr]

if ur requests are open, could we have like 141 falling asleep on the reader??? like different scenarios for each of them like price falls asleep accidentally and so does ghost while gaz and soap are like cuddling or laying on the reader :) i love ur writing so much <333

the 141 falls asleep on you

wc: 2.1k

hello!!! been struggling to love my writing for like the last month so i really hope you enjoy, and i'm sorry in advance lol its mostly fluffy but i just couldn't help myself with a lil bit of angst :)

price

✹ when you hear the front door open in the middle of the night – or, technically, early morning – the first thought your sleep-addled mind comes up with is that you're being robbed.

✹ with your heart in your throat, you sit up in bed and stare wide-eyed at the bedroom door, but your fear is short lived when a dull thud meets your ears, followed by a familiar curse that has you breathing a sigh of relief.

✹ your husband, coming home at last from a night of drinking with the other members of the taskforce, presumably stubbing his toe on the sofa that hasn't moved an inch since you put it there all those years ago.

✹ with a deep yawn, you get back under the covers and let your eyes fall shut again, the knowledge that it was john downstairs and not a burglar putting your racing heart to rest.

✹ you don't react when he clumsily slips through the door, fighting the laugh that threatens to give you away when you hear him swear under his breath after bumping into yet another piece of furniture.

✹ the cold air sends goosebumps rippling across your skin when he lifts the covers to clamber in beside you, but the chill is quickly chased away by his hands bringing you into his chest and his enveloping warmth.

✹ "and what time do you call this?" you tease in a whisper, opening your eyes to see his guilty ones looking back at you. the slight flush in his cheeks and his half-lidded gaze gives him a boyish charm that you can't even pretend to be mad at.

✹ "sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you..." he murmurs in return, a sheepish smile pulling at one side of his lips.

✹ "well, i'm glad you had a good time," you punctuate your reply by placing a light kiss on the bridge of his nose, which prompts his smile to grow wider as he hugs your body to his own.

✹ "i'm havin' a better time now, love." he ghosts his lips over yours as he whispers, earning another tiny chuckle from you, his fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your back under your shirt.

✹ you can smell the whisky on his breath as he leans even further into you, and taste it when he closes the distance to devour your lips in a passionate, if slightly messy, kiss.

✹ he sighs into your mouth, his lips falling from yours when he rolls you onto your back to lay his head on your chest, and like a switch, he's dead asleep.

✹ "john?" you whisper, in a sort of disbelief that he was actually asleep just like that, but he doesn't even flinch when you gently poke his cheek. "oh my god…"

✹ once the morning rolls around, you both share a laugh about his drunken state from the night before, and he makes you promise not to tell the boys he passed out in the middle of kissing you.

✹ you just laugh and file it away for future blackmail.

gaz

✹ the two of you were watching a movie late one night, the first time you've had time to yourselves in months thanks to the never-ending workload you both seem to be under.

✹ the dim mood lighting of your flat combined with the comforting feeling of finally being alone with kyle is nearly enough to send you to sleep already, but your want to spent time with him keeps you awake.

✹ kyle watches you stifle a yawn as he presses play on the movie, and tugs you to lean against him with an arm around your shoulders and a teasing grin. "promise you won't fall asleep this time?"

✹ you look up to him from where your head rests against his collar and huff, a smile of your own playing on your lips as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. "maybe i should be the one asking that."

✹ the bags under his eyes leave no question about how tired he really is, but he was the one that insisted the two of you spend time together tonight, despite the exhaustion you knew he was hiding.

✹ "and leave you all by yourself?" he chuckles, "never, love."

✹ a comfortable quiet settles over you while you watch the movie together; kyle's choice, something action-y you've never seen before, but you know he's seen it a million times. he occasionally adds commentary to make you laugh which he, naturally, manages to do every time.

✹ as the movie plays, you gradually migrate to laying on the sofa on your back with kyle between your legs and his head on your sternum. you absentmindedly run your nails over his scalp, gently massaging his head while he hugs your waist.

✹ it's about two-thirds of the way through the movie that you realise kyle hasn't said anything in a while. you pause your ministrations, smoothing over his curls as you turn your gaze from the screen to where he lays on top of you.

✹ a soft smile lights up your face when your eyes land on his blissfully relaxed features, sound asleep and breathing in time with the steady rise and fall of your chest.

✹ you continue to watch the movie in silence, occasionally petting kyle's hair when he grumbles in his sleep. he deserves the rest, you muse, and something about how peaceful he looks means you can't even entertain the idea of disturbing him. and you would definitely tease him that he fell asleep like he said he wouldn't.

✹ even once the movie has finished, and your back has started to ache from the position against the armrest, you still don't dare wake him. tomorrow was an off day for both of you, so there was no need to go anywhere – as if you would ever want to, intertwined with your boyfriend and surrounded by his warmth.

✹ you close your eyes, give him one last squeeze, and whisper into the silence, "sweet dreams, kyle."

soap

✹ it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

✹ everything was supposed to go smoothly, you'd get what you came for, and you'd be home in time for dinner.

✹ but it hadn't happened like that  of course it didn't. you were on your way out, with johnny by your side, when a sudden noise from behind you caught your attention.

✹ you spin around to see a dishevelled soldier aiming their gun at you, but you noticed just a second too late. you can do little more than watch as they pull the trigger, a sick sense of horror travelling up your spine as time seems to slow down.

✹ there's a split second where you brace to feel the bullet lodge somewhere in your body, but that impact never comes.

✹ with a speed you didn't know he possessed, johnny tackles you to the ground and out of the path of the bullet, landing on top of you and pushing the air from your lungs.

✹ you lay winded underneath him, the sound of him returning fire vaguely reaching your ears but it takes a second for your mind to catch up.

✹ it’s quiet by the time you come back to your senses, johnny already pulling you to stand with a strained grunt.

✹ "johnny?" you frown, taking note of how he favours one side when he urges you to start walking again, "you okay?"

✹ "fine, darlin’, let’s just–" he winces, stumbling ever so slightly and trying to play it off by pushing you in front of him, "let’s just get home, aye?"

✹ your frown deepens. you turn around and stop him with your hands on his shoulders, and it's then that you notice how laboured his breathing has become.

✹ "you're not fine, soap!" your heart sinks as you watch the patches of blood on his leg grow steadily darker, "why didn't you tell me you were hit?"

✹ he doesn't flinch at the anger in your voice, or when you haul his arm over your shoulder and resume dragging him the rest of the way to the helo. he mumbles incoherent that sounds like an apology, but your only focus is getting him to safety and stopping the bleeding.

✹ the others are already waiting for you as the exfil site comes into view, and the moment they spot you shouldering johnny's weight they spring into action to help you.

✹ johnny is dragged up the ramp and made to lay on the floor as gaz and ghost make short work of packing the bullet wound in his thigh with gauze.

✹ you lift his shoulders and head to rest in your lap, grimacing at the pained groans he lets out when ghost puts his weight on the wound.

✹ "why didn't you tell me?" you utter, tilting his head back with your hands on his cheeks and meeting his distant gaze with your brows knitted together in concern.

✹ he musters a weak smile and lets his eyes flutter shut, the muscles in his face visibly relax. "i’m fine… ‘slong as yer okay, bonnie…"

ghost

✹ sometimes you wondered if ghost ever slept.

✹ he would always volunteer himself for the first watch, and he was up before you without fail every morning. on base he always seemed to be in the gym before everyone, and in his office after everyone else has left. he was frustratingly elusive.

✹ it worried you, that perhaps he had trouble sleeping. it made sense, however saddening, that someone like him wouldn't sleep well, but it was even worse that he brushed off your concern for him with practised ease.

✹ he made sure to take care of others, but wouldn't let you try and do the same for him. perhaps he thought you were joking, or that you were only being courteous, but your mind always goes back to one thing; the theory that, for some people, it's only possible for them to fall asleep when they feel safe.

✹ you wanted to be that for him, like he was for you.

✹ you do your best to forget about your rejected concerns for him, and the thought all but slips your mind until a mission two months later.

✹ it was long, drawn-out, and gruelling, and all you wanted to do was get home and have a shower hot enough to melt your skin. it had been almost a week since you've had a moment to catch your breath, and you were more than thankful to be on the way home.

✹ even if that meant being squashed into the back of an suv with soap passed out on your left and ghost on your right. gaz called shotgun and wouldn't give it up for anything, so here you were, shoulder to shoulder with the lieutenant you may or may not harbour feelings for.

✹ the five of you have been on the road for a couple of hours now. the conversation has died down by now and and the quiet hum of the radio was the only sound, besides soap's intermittent snores.

✹ you're on the verge of passing out yourself when a weight drops onto your shoulder, and you have to fight yourself not to jump with the start it gives you.

✹ your tired eyes look to the source and to your utter surprise, they find the dark fabric of ghost's balaclava resting against you, and when you tilt your head you can see the blond of his eyelashes against his cheeks.

✹ the sight brings a smile to your face. as subtle as possible, you shift as much as the limited space of the backseat will allow so his neck isn't bent at such an awkward angle.

✹ he fell asleep on you. perhaps it was just because of the exhaustion this mission left him with, but you like to think back on your theory from weeks ago as you admire the restful expression he wears.

✹ your stop fighting your own exhaustion and let your eyes fall shut, and with your last thread of consciousness you file this memory away for later, and hope that it really does mean that he feels safe with you.

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

I'm thinking of how the 141 men react to you cracking your joints, either purposefully in Price's case, or accidentally on the others. Suggestive towards the end , MDNI

~~~

Like with John, you do that trend where you put pretzel sticks inside your mouth and ask him to pop your back and then bite down into the pretzels as you act limp. He'll immediately pick you up and start rushing you out of the door to bring you to an ER, panic evident in his face, jaw clenched, but his eyes are focused. He looks at you sternly when you explain to him what happened before bringing you back inside the room, still in his arms, and you can still feel his heart racing, muscles still tense but calming down as you soothe him, feeling bad about your prank.

You're laying on your stomach on the floor in Simon's case, just being in the way of where he wants to move, maybe with various objects around you as you are occupied with your phone. He'll ask you to relocate your activities, but you refuse to get up, and so he warns he'll just walk over you. He nudges your side with his foot, and when you just grunt at him, he places his foot on your lower back and exerts slight pressure, eliciting a groan from you until you both hear a loud pop from your back. He'll drop immediately to his knees, not minding if some of your stuff is digging into his legs as he worriedly checks on you, checking multiple times that he didn't hurt you. You just tell him how good that felt as you lay limply, assuring him that you are okay, that was a good pop. He'll then carefully pick you up and move you to your bed even with you protesting, and then comes back with all your stuff and rearranging them around you.

Maybe in Johnny's case, you two are sparring, he's got you in between him and the ground mat. Both of you sweaty as he tries to subdue you while you are doing your best to fight him off. He gets you into a headlock with his (strong, meaty) biceps, and you twist your head a little. Both of you froze as you hear your neck joints pop, and he quickly loosens his hold on you, cradling your neck with utmost gentleness, worriedly asking if you are okay and if you can still feel your limbs. He'll lay you down gently and refuse to let you get up until you assure him multiple times that your neck just popped, it didn't hurt and you are fine. He'll beam his worried blue eyes over you and refuse to continue sparring, opting to just hug you protectively into his chest after, leaving you with no choice but to be sticky with both of your sweat cooling off.

Or you are making out with Kyle, his big, warm hands roaming over your body, your curves, as you grab at his slender neck, both consumed in fiery passion. You gently push him off you, away from the wall where you both heatedly started when your simmering gazes and coy words weren't enough to dampen the heat in between, and you guide him towards the sofa, him falling back on it with your nudge, his brown eyes roaming over you appreciatively. You slot your lips with him again, trying to clamber over and straddle him, when you hear not just one but both of your knees pop as you try to settle. He pries his mouth off you urgently, moving you to relieve pressure off your knees by sitting you sideways in his lap, inspecting and checking over as you laughingly told him it was just your joints cracking. Oh you best believe he will be the only one on his knees when he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom.

~~~

Power is out in my house since last night due to thunderstorm, which is apparently when my creative juices start flowing. I'm glad I'm a prepper who has a powerbank for my phone as well as a battery-powered fan, a bunch of flashlights, and a hand-crank emergency radio/flashlight/charger

[jeonginsleftcheek]

With you, always

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader (implied fem)

genre: fluff, suggestive, pinch of angst

wc: 5.5k

synopsis: you ask your best friend to help you win over your crush.

warnings: college!au, fake dating, best friends to lovers trope, crying, a few kissing scenes and one make out scene

a/n: wanted to try my hand out at a fake dating scenario, hope you like this one🥹🫶🏻

(i also needed something cute and fluffy bcs i had the shittiest week😭)

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

masterlist

Maybe it was an exaggeration, but for Hyunjin today was the most important day of his life.

It had been more than a month since he started gathering the courage to finally confess to his best friend, you.

He was more than nervous, tossing and turning in his bed the night prior, imagining all the scenarios, every single possibility from you falling into his arms to you slapping him and walking away forever.

He couldn't stand the thought of the last option, hoping that even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, maybe you'd still be his best friend cause he really would suck it up for you, just so he can stay by your side.

But Hyunjin was 99% sure you felt the same, and that the 1% was just his own doubts creating negative outcomes in his mind.

You've been best friends for almost five years now, meeting through your mutual friend Changbin who you lived close to and hung out with, inevitably becoming close to Hyunjin too.

Changbin moved away but still kept in touch, leaving Hyunjin and you to bond with each other; going as far as attending the same university.

You've been inseparable since then, there was rarely any moment you didn't spend together.

There was no way you spent so much time with him and didn't come to love him the way he loved you; that's what Hyunjin kept telling himself.

Anyways, you were always so good to him, it must mean something right?

Hyunjin's palms were clammy as he wiped them on his jeans for the nth time today, giving himself the ick for a moment.

He was on the edge, jittery as he kept shifting from foot to foot, waiting for you to arrive so you can go to your classes together.

He had it all planned.

After class he would ask you to meet up in your 'secret place', a bench under a tree near the campus where you two would sit and spend time together, and there he would gift you the painting he had carefully created for you, the beautiful everlasting bouquet of flowers that would never wither just like his love for you.

Then he would tell you how much you mean to him, how he has loved you this whole time... And he didn't know how you'd react, maybe your eyes would tear up, maybe you'd hug him instantly... But he knew it would end with a sweet kiss and Hyunjin asking you to be his.

He got lost in the scenarios he's been making up for weeks, not even noticing that you appeared before him.

"Earth to Hyunjin?" you wave your hand in front of his face and he snaps out of his thoughts, hoping he didn't say anything out loud and accidentally revealed his plan.

"Oh, sorry I'm still asleep." Hyunjin chuckles, his cheeks rosy.

"That's why I got you this." you give him a cup of coffee, holding another cup in your other hand.

"See now, this is why I hang out with you." Hyunjin nods, grabbing the cup from your hand.

Your fingers touch for a moment and he feels electricity run through his body.

"Glad to know you're just using me for coffee." you act annoyed even though you know he's just teasing you.

"And your notes. You're way better at taking them than I am." he says after taking a sip of his beverage, a smug smile spreading on his face.

"That's cause you daydream 24/7, you dork." you nudge him with your shoulder as you start making your way across the campus.

"I do not." Hyunjin pouts.

"Yes, you do. You were literally doing it just now when I came up to you." you poke his side and he jumps a little, letting out a squeak.

"I was just... nevermind. Listen-" Hyunjin starts, swallowing a big lump that's forming in his throat.

You look up at him, your eyes big and curious as you stare into his, making him melt into the ground.

"There's something I want to tell you. Today. I mean, later. Yeah. We can meet up at our spot?"

You notice his voice trembling a little, hoping it's not some bad news.

"Really? I have something I wanna tell you too." you smile wide and Hyunjin's heart starts pounding against his chest.

Did you think of confessing to him too?

"What?" he laughs in disbelief. "About what?"

"Well... Should I just say it? I'm impatient, you know that." your eyes sparkle as you keep looking at Hyunjin, your smile wide and cheeks dusted in pink.

"Yeah." Hyunjin's throat constricts. This is it.

"Okay. Well. Remember Minho? We have a few classes with him?"

Hyunjin frowns. What does Minho have to do with anything?

"Yeah, vaguely. What about him?" he gulps.

"I think I have a crush on him."

And just like that, Hyunjin's ears start ringing as he stands there, feeling like someone just dumped icy water all over him and also smacked him with the bucket for good measure.

"What?" he doesn't want to believe that you just said that.

"Minho, I have a crush on him. Like- it's been there for some time but it was just a little one, I didn't pay attention to it but last weekend I ran into him and we talked, and he was really sweet."

"Is that all that it took for you to develop a crush on him?" Hyunjin's scowl is evident, annoyance written all over his face.

"Hyunjin!" you were taken aback by his tone. "No. It's just- we had a brief conversation and I felt like we had so much in common. I thought you'd be happy for me, you always tease me that I'll die alone if I don't find someone."

Hyunjin can see the confusion and insecurities reflecting in your eyes and his face softens.

He can't be cruel to you, never.

"I- I am happy for you. I just... Need to process."

"Are you jealous?" you smirk. "You'll always be my best friend, Jinnie, you know I'll never replace you."

"Best friend, huh?" Hyunjin scoffs. "Great. I just remembered I gotta go do something." he turns around, muttering under his breath.

"What? Class is about to start, where are you going?" you look at him confusedly as Hyunjin stares at the floor, walking away from you.

"Hyunjin, watch out!" you try to warn him, but it's already too late, his head collides with one of the trees growing in front of the building, the force of it making him fall back down on his butt as he wails loudly, grabbing at his forehead, his coffee spilled by his side.

"This is what I get." he mumbles, his bottom lip trembling as his eyes water.

"You dumbass." you appear by his side in mere seconds. "Let me see."

Hyunjin puts his hands down as you inspect his forehead.

"I think it's gonna be okay." you say, leaning so close to him so he can feel your warmth and smell your shampoo.

"Since when is this tree here?" Hyunjin grunts.

"Since like 60 years ago." you giggle.

Before he can compute what's happening, you grab Hyunjin's face and lean in, pressing your lips on his forehead gently.

How could you do this and not love him?

His eyes water again.

"Oh, don't cry you drama queen. This is like the third time this week that you ran into something with that thick head of yours. By now, I think the tree took more damage than you." you joke, trying to lift the mood up.

Hyunjin chuckles a little, not being able to stay mad at you even though you were driving him crazy in this moment.

"Come on, let's go to class now." you help pull him up, throwing the spilled cup in the trash.

"Here, we can share my coffee." you give him your cup, and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's okay."

"Also, what were you going to tell me?" you beam at him and Hyunjin feels like someone has squeezed his heart and lungs.

"Nothing. It's not important." he forces a smile, finding it harder to breathe suddenly.

"Really? Sounded important to me."

"It's not. Forget about it." he says as you walk through the front door.

"Alright, if you say so."

The two of you sit in one of the back rows as always, your eyes immediately searching for Minho, who always sits up front.

It's one of the classes you share with him and you await eagerly to see him, hoping he'd look up and wave at you.

Hyunjin takes out his notebook and pen, trying to act normal even though he feels as if he's been shot right in the chest and his heart is now bleeding out slowly.

He hears you gasp quietly and looks up.

Minho just walked in, dressed in a sleek black shirt and some jeans, looking effortlessly perfect and Hyunjin can see you visibly perk up as you stare at the man with a smile.

You should be looking at Hyunjin like that.

No, Hyunjin shakes his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this, he should be happy for you, he should support you.

After all, that's what best friends do.

You're getting ready to wave, but Minho doesn't even spare a glance your way, his face unreadable as he sits down, talking to some guy that's sitting next to him.

You visibly deflate and Hyunjin feels bad, putting his hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

"I'm sure he'll say hello to you later." Hyunjin says and you nod at him with a sigh.

During the entire lecture, your eyes kept wandering over to Minho while Hyunjin kept his eyes on you, his heart breaking as he watched you falling for someone else right before his eyes.

Why the hell did he wait for so long to tell you how he feels?

Now, he's lost his chance.

Hyunjin slumps back in his seat and decides to actually start taking notes even though he knows he'll end up stealing yours like he always does.

For the last three days you've been gushing about Minho nonstop.

Minho did this, Minho did that, Minho said this, Minho said that. Minho, Minho, Minho.

Hyunjin was already sick of it and imagining that guy actually reciprocating your feelings and becoming your boyfriend was making Hyunjin's stomach churn.

Minho seemed to take some kind of interest in you, at least that's what you thought from the brief conversations you'd have with him in the halls while Hyunjin watched you interact with him, your eyes sparkly and cheeks rosy.

He wanted to smack his own forehead against the wall until it hurts enough so he can forget about the pain he feels on the inside.

But the more Hyunjin observed Minho, it seemed to him that the guy was just being polite to you, answering your questions with a small smile on his face, nodding here and there as you talked.

That was not the face of a man in love, at least that's what Hyunjin believed.

"Minho told me that this shirt really matches my eye color." you're almost jumping around Hyunjin and he rolls his eyes.

"It's ugly."

"Hyunjin!" you smack your best friend's arm and he winces, acting like you just broke his bones.

"What?" he looks at you, his brows furrowed.

"You're jealous, Hyun. Admit it." you smirk, poking his side.

"Am not. Let's just go to class."

"Did you know that Minho's a dancer?" you quip suddenly as the two of you sit down.

"So what? I dance too." Hyunjin answers, taking his notebook out and not sparing you a glance.

He can't bring himself to look at your face while you talk about your crush.

"I know you dance but I didn't know he does too. He told me I could come watch him practice some time." you smile and Hyunjin almost chokes on his breath.

"He w-what?"

"I'm gonna watch him dance." you smirk and Hyunjin shakes his head.

"Whatever. Enjoy."

"Come with me." you grab at his arm and he tries to swat you away.

"I don't want to."

"Come on, pleaseeeeee." you whine, pouting at your best friend as you lean your cheek on his shoulder.

Hyunjin melts when he looks down at you.

"Fine." he sighs.

"Yay!" you quickly kiss his cheek and Hyunjin dies on the inside a little. "You're the best, Jinnie."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I am." he smirks at you while shaking his head.

Hoping somewhere deep inside that this is just a phase.

-

The very same day, Minho has dance practice and you drag Hyunjin to the dance room to watch.

There are some other dancers there, and some people sitting and watching so the two of you sit down next to them.

Hyunjin takes out his phone and you frown at him.

"Aren't you gonna watch with me?" you ask.

"I don't really care about his dancing. But you go ahead and enjoy." he shrugs.

"Sure." you look at Hyunjin for a few more moments as he concentrates on scrolling, a little sigh escaping your lips.

You're a bit worried since Hyunjin has never acted like this before and you kept wracking your brain, trying to figure out what is going on with him.

The music starts soon and you look up, your eyes falling on Minho.

His dance moves are sharp and on time, executed so smoothly, you've never seen someone dance so perfectly before.

You stare in awe and Hyunjin looks up with an annoyed face, his eyes traveling between the two of you and how flabbergasted you look.

When Minho finishes dancing, you're ready for him to come up to you and talk but instead a guy skips towards him and starts talking with a big smile on his face, his arms flailing around in excitement.

Minho smiles wide, eyes all sparkly and cheeks all rosy, you've never seen him react like that.

"So, what did you think?" you ask Hyunjin, hoping Minho won't just ignore you.

"He's too stiff." Hyunjin mutters, still looking at his phone.

"He totally isn't." you squint your eyes at him before standing up.

Sadly for you, Minho doesn't spare you a glance, quickly leaving the room with the guy who joined him.

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Hyunjin laughs in disbelief.

"Keep your voice down." you pinch his thigh.

"Ow!" he swats your hand away. "There is no way, y/n. I'm not gonna pretend to be your boyfriend."

"Please, Hyun! Who else will I ask? You want me to go to some stranger?!" you almost yell yourself and Hyunjin shushes you.

"What's in it for me?" Hyunjin crosses his arms and leans back.

"Mm, you're helping your lovely best friend?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"This is crazy." he shakes his head.

"Is that a yes or no?" you beam at him.

"Fine. Fine, I'll be your fake boyfriend." Hyunjin feels like crying and laughing at the same time, the absurdity of his reality was really something.

"Yes! Thank you, Jinnie!" you throw your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"I owe you." you mutter into him.

"Damn right you do." he exhales, trying to calm his fast beating heart down.

For some reason, in your mind it made perfect sense.

Minho needed a nudge to make a move on you, and what better way to nudge him than making him jealous?

Hyunjin thought it was the dumbest idea he had ever heard but at this point, he was hoping that through your fake relationship you'd come to realize that he would be the perfect boyfriend for you, not some random guy you talked to a few times.

While he was trying to fall asleep in his bed that night, Hyunjin wondered just how far are you willing to take the lie.

-

The next morning, while Hyunjin waited for you to arrive like he always did, his heart was beating fast.

He was so nervous about the whole ordeal, not knowing how you'll approach him.

"Jinnie!" you waved slightly with a cup of coffee as soon as you spotted him.

He waved back a bit reluctantly as you beamed at him.

"Morning. Coffee for my handsome boyfriend." you smirked as you gave him his cup.

What the actual fuck?

His legs trembled for a moment and Hyunjin felt like the ground was crumbling underneath his feet and pretty soon he'll be joining it.

"Don't say it like that." he freaked out on the inside, hoping he wasn't blushing too hard.

"What? We need to get into character." you smiled, hooking your arm with his and practically dragging him towards the campus.

Oh, you are so going to be the end of him.

"Why can't we just act like we normally do?" Hyunjin whined as you approached the building.

"Because it won't be believeable. We have to act sweet like... like imagine if we were actually dating what would you do?"

You must be crazy, Hyunjin thinks as his lips fall open in shock.

"I'd probably kiss you." he says, half joking and knowing you'd never say yes to something so ludicrous.

"Okay, let's do it." you stand close to him, your hand slipping down to his as you interlace your fingers.

"What?!" Hyunjin yells and you squeeze his hand as a few people look your way.

"Hyunjin. Make it believeable. Come on, kiss me." you nod quickly.

Hyunjin's lips open and close a few times as he searches your face.

"In front of everyone? Shouldn't our first kiss be more intimate?" Hyunjin swallows and that's when your cheeks become rosy.

"They don't know it's our first kiss. Plus it's just pretend so let's do it." you don't know how much your words hurt him but Hyunjin is a fool for you so he nods.

"Okay." he lets go of your hand only to cup your cheek, and for some reason your heartbeat picks up speed.

You chalk it up to not kissing anyone for so long.

It's definitely not because of Hyunjin, right?

His eyes soften as he leans in and you meet him halfway, hearing his breath hitch before your lips finally make contact.

Hyunjin doesn't care why you're kissing him, because in this moment nothing really exists except you and him, the world around you melting away.

His lips are soft against yours, he tastes of coffee and the chocolate croissant he had for breakfast and just so Hyunjin.

It's exactly what you imagined he'd taste like.

Not that you ever thought about kissing your best friend.

You lean back before thoughts consume you and before the kiss can escalate.

Hyunjin feels like you just took his breath away.

"See? It went good." you say, but your voice trembles and your face is red.

"I think that was better than good." Hyunjin pouts but before you can retaliate someone calls out to you.

The two of you turn towards the voice and see Chan, one of your acquaintances from class as he approaches you with a smirk.

"Did you two finally get together?" he asks and Hyunjin coughs as your eyes widen.

"I- yes we did." you answer quickly as Hyunjin tranforms into a frozen tomato next to you.

"Gosh, I'm so happy for you guys. I always knew you were into each other, it was so obvious. Good luck!" Chan throws finger guns your way before running off to class.

His words echo in your mind. You were obvious? What the heck does that mean?

"Let's go to class." you grip Hyunjin's hand and he nods, still stunned by the kiss you shared and what Chan had said.

You sit in your usual spot in the back, Minho arriving a few minutes later and you visibly perk up.

"Quick, put your arm around me!" you startle Hyunjin who was doodling in his notebook but he does exactly what you asked.

His arm wraps around your shoulder and he brings you closer to his body just as Minho looks up your way.

You wave at him and Minho waves back with a smile, his eyes moving to Hyunjin shortly before he turns around and sits down.

"Did you see that? Do you think he looked jealous?" you whisper to your best friend.

"Maybe." Hyunjin shrugs, retracting his arm.

"Maybe?" you whine. "I need a yes not a maybe."

"Give it some time, y/n." Hyunjin is back to doodling.

How is he gonna endure this torture?

As it always was on the weekends, Hyunjin came to your place to hang out.

Usually your roommate was staying with her boyfriend every weekend so you had the apartment all to yourself.

After a good old gossip session and a movie marathon with snacks, Hyunjin and you were still snuggled up in your bed.

You were barely awake now, trying to focus on the third movie in a row while Hyunjin was keeping his eyes only on you.

A small smile danced on his lips as he observed your pouty face, your eyes fighting to stay open as you blinked tiredly, your face illuminated only by the tv.

He scooted closer to you, putting his arm around you and that jolted you from your half asleep state.

"What are you doing?" you asked and he chuckled, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"Getting my cuddles." Hyunjin smirks.

"Who gave you cuddle privileges?" you smirk back, deciding to tease him a little.

"I'm your best friend, of course I get cuddle privileges. Plus, consider it your payment for making me fake-date you." Hyunjin nuzzles into you, making you shiver a little.

"So it's that horrible to date me, hm?" you giggle, some kind of tension washing over you.

"Oh yeah, the absolute worst." Hyunjin jokes and you smack his arm immediately.

"Hey!" you protest and he laughs.

It's quiet for some time, and you close your eyes, your body is suddenly aware of everything.

You're aware of Hyunjin's warmth, his familiar and comforting scent, the way his breath hits your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your cheek, the heaviness of his arm and leg thrown over you and your heart starts beating faster.

You wonder why since this is not the first time Hyunjin and you cuddled, you started this tradition a year ago, it became normal to cuddle every weekend he stayed over.

You suddenly also wondered if that was normal; to cuddle your guy best friend.

You also thought about the kiss the two of you shared, what mostly replayed in your mind wasn't the actual kiss, it was the way Hyunjin looked at you when you parted.

His eyes seemed full of love and affection, he seemed soft and putty in that moment like he really wanted to kiss you, like it meant so much to him.

"Hyunjin?"

"Hm?"

"Can we practice kissing?" your brain just always comes up with great ideas.

Hyunjin freezes, his body stiff against yours.

"What?" he looks up at you with a nervous chuckle.

"So that it's more believeable in public."

He smirks.

"Are you sure it's not because you liked kissing me?" Hyunjin jokes, though on the inside he hopes you'll say yes.

"Shut up!" you whine. "This is just pretend, okay?"

"Sure, if you say so." he stares at you with a grin and you don't know if you would rather slap him or kiss him.

"Go on then." you whisper.

Hyunjin chuckles at your impatience, throwing his head back for a moment as his laughter jostles you.

When he looks back at you, something shifts in his eyes and you swallow the lump in your throat.

He slowly leans in and why are you nervous suddenly?

Hyunjin's lips press against yours and this time you melt as he hovers above you, kissing you gently, his fingers caressing your cheek and tracing your skin.

Your hand comes up to hold the back of his neck and play with his hair which makes Hyunjin press against your lips harder, kissing you with more passion than before.

Your mind is dizzy suddenly, this is nothing like the innocent kiss you shared in public, and something starts stirring up inside you as you drown out the noise of the movie, focusing only on your best friend.

Oh my god, you're making out with your best friend!

That thought crosses your mind just when Hyunjin's big hand ends up on your waist, squeezing a little as his tongue swipes your lip and you hear it in his heavy breathing, how worked up he's getting.

Something inside you ignites when you part your lips, letting him push his tongue inside as he starts gently playing with yours.

You almost quit thinking, your brain feeling foggy as your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull just a little.

It's enough to make Hyunjin groan into you and that snaps you back into reality.

You gasp, suddenly backing away as Hyunjin slowly blinks his eyes open, his face filled with lust and confusion of the sudden stop, his plump lips even more swollen and red after kissing you.

You can't believe he looks so attractive.

"I think we should stop now." you gulp.

"Was it too much?" Hyunjin's voice is raspy and something throbs inside you.

"Yeah."

"You wanted to practice." he adds, his eyes glued to your lips.

You didn't know what to say. Suddenly, you felt so confused about your feelings.

It's not like you never imagined kissing your best friend or being in a relationship with him but it always seemed to you like you would never be able to cross that barrier.

Being Hyunjin's best friend was familiar, comfortable, you didn't want to spoil that.

"What's wrong?" Hyunjin asks, seeing the cogs turning in your head.

"Hyunjin, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Pretending to be my boyfriend." you sit up so he follows.

"Because you asked me to? I wanted to help you." Hyunjin lies through his teeth and you can read it now. It's like everything became clear to you.

"Would you really be happy if I got together with Minho?"

Hyunjin's stomach churns and anything good he felt just moments ago when he was kissing you disappears and is replaced by a feeling of nausea.

He averts his eyes from you, nervously biting on his lip.

"Hyunjin?"

"No. No, I wouldn't be happy." he admits quietly, his eyes trained on his lap, unable to look at you.

"Why?" you ask.

"Why? Why? Is it not obvious, y/n?" he says and your eyes meet.

"I love you, that's why." Hyunjin feels the weight of his hidden feelings finally lifting from his heart.

Your lips tremble as you stare at him in shock.

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

You suddenly get up, the reality of the situation dawning on you.

"You've loved me this whole time? And I never realized? And I asked you to fake date me to make another guy jealous and you- you went with it." your eyes well up with tears. "Oh my god, I am so stupid and insensitive!"

Hyunjin gets up too, quickly wanting to comfort you.

"No, y/n it's okay, I wanted to help you! I mean, if you're happy, I'm happy too even if it's not with me." you can hear the pain in his voice when he says that and your chest hurts.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"It's okay if you don't love me like I love you, I can't force you to feel the same." Hyunjin shakes his head.

"It's not like that... It's just; I need to process all of this." you back away from him as he looks at you, sadness in his eyes.

You can't look at him in that moment.

"Do you want me to leave?" his voice is quiet and small when he asks that.

"Yeah, I need to be alone."

Hyunjin doesn't say anything at first, only grabs his things as you stare at the wall, your brain on overdrive.

"Call me when you're ready to talk." he says and you nod, watching his back as he leaves your room.

As soon as you hear the apartment door close, you break into tears.

How could you've been so blind? Hyunjin was always right next to you, he was your person, your comfort, your best friend.

He did everything to make you happy, even indulging you in dumb requests like this one and now that he told you how he feels, everything started flooding in.

The way he'd hold you, the way he looked at you, the way he blushed when you touched his hand, how he seemed annoyed when you told him about Minho.

You were beating yourself up for being so stupid and hurting him when deep inside you always knew you loved him too.

But now, you were afraid that you'd also hurt Minho if he liked you.

So you decided to test that.

-

The next morning, Hyunjin was already awake when his alarm rang, a sleepless night behind him filled with tears and scenarios of you not being a part of his life anymore.

He screwed up, confessing like that, in the heat of the moment.

He can't forget your face, how shocked and sad you looked and how you didn't even wanna look at his face.

Hyunjin still waits for you at your meeting spot, hoping you'll arrive with a smile and a cup of coffee like you always do.

But as minutes pass, with a heavy heart, Hyunjin realizes you're not coming so he reluctantly makes his way to class alone.

His heart freezes when he walks into the building and sees you talking to Minho.

Unable to look at that, he quickly walks into class, sitting at his usual spot.

This is a disaster, he thinks.

If he just kept his mouth shut, you'd be here sitting next to him now, joking around and laughing like you always do.

If he'd kept it all in, maybe he'd have just a glimpse of how it would feel to be yours.

Maybe you'd have that sleepover you always do, when you fall asleep in his arms and Hyunjin can pretend you're his.

But you never come into class, even after Minho did, sitting up front at his usual spot, smiling at the boy next to him.

Hyunjin frowns and stands up, quickly making his way out before the class started as he searches for you.

He finds you sitting on one of the benches outside, looking exhausted and sad.

He wants to run to you but instead he decides to approach you slowly.

"Y/n?" he leans down to look at you and you scoff.

"Minho has a boyfriend."

"What?" Hyunjin asks.

"Minho. He's gay. Or whatever. He's dating Jisung. And I'm just so stupid." you frown as Hyunjin takes in the information.

You can hear the laughter bubbling up inside him.

"Go ahead, laugh at my embarrassment, I know you want to." you look at him and he does just that.

Hyunjin starts laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation and as you see his cute face becoming red from the laughter, you can't stay serious.

Breaking into giggles yourself, the two of you probably end up looking like a pair of maniacs as you keep laughing.

"You were really barking up the wrong tree." he sits next to you and you smack his arm, making him whine.

"Stop it, at least let some time pass before you start making jokes about this." you pout and he chuckles at you, finding you so endearing at that moment.

Without thinking, Hyunjin tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and you feel your face warm up.

"I'm sorry for dumping all my feelings on you. I didn't wanna make anything awkward and that is not the way I wanted to confess. Actually... I wanted to confess to you that day when you told me about Minho." Hyunjin says.

"Oh my god! When you asked me to meet up? I am double stupid." you groan, smacking your forehead with your palm.

"It's fine. We can be friends, I'll just try to-"

"Hyunjin." you stop him.

"Hm?"

"I love you too. And I'm sorry for not realizing that before and hurting you."

"Oh. Oh!" Hyunjin's eyes are wide. "You feel the same?"

You chuckle at his surprised expression, needing him close so you wrap your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him, your face buried in his chest.

Hyunjin feels relief wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, his hand caressing your head.

"Does this mean you want to be mine?" he asks breathlessly.

"Oh, I always was." you look up at him with a smile and he giggles, his heart beating fast.

"I'm gonna kiss you now." he leans in.

"Please do." you chuckle and he cradles your head in his hand as his lips press gently into yours.

This kiss feels even more special, the confession between you melting through your lips as you taste each other.

"Wanna ditch classes and get some coffee?" you ask when you part.

"With you, always."

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

[fallenneziah]

okokok so completely obsessed with alpha!ghost and omega!reader now. thanks [ this is genuine i promise ] maybe possibly a continuation with Ghost finally marking reader as his?

Wow, so this is blowing up, but hey, I'm not complaining. I'm glad you guys like it. I hope those of you who asked outright for a part three don't mind of I tag you so you get to see it. Ask and you shall receive 😊 @ghostspuppy @abeltesfayefangirl and @xiangping-28

Alpha!Ghost and Omega!Reader pt 3

In case you haven't seen it you can check out part 1 and 2 and 4

Alpha!Ghost who can feel his own hormones go absolutely rampant every time his knot is deep inside you. Watching it drip from your hole, his teeth gritting. If he was a pup his tail would be between his legs. The alpha inside him continually frustrated that he can't knock you up.

Omega!Reader who promised themselves that there would be a constant use of their pill until they were mated. And only then.

Alpha!Ghost who is frustrated. Gradually with every other day and the amount of seed he pumps into you with the fantasy of plugging you good and getting pups inside you.

It wasn't a want anymore, it was a need.

Alpha!Ghost who is used to being in spaces with other alphas. Their the majority of base. Johnny, Price, and some others. While Gaz was a beta, but you were the only one. And because of that. There was competition.

Omega!Reader who knows the hungry stares all too well and are constantly squirming under heated gazes that drag over their body.

Omega!Reader that is wanted after and chased by those cocky enough to get in the time. Pinning you to a wall, purring against your ear and asking you out. It makes your knees weak, your omega can't help it when talking to an alpha.

Omega!Reader who is practicing in the gym, sweat and pheromones leaking into their space in their concentration.

Omega!Reader who is approached by a cocky alpha from across the room, saying something about your dainty little arms.

"How about I take those for you love, wouldn't want you hurting your back." He winks, grinning those pearly, slightly sharp teeth at you.

You disagree, sitting up and reaching over for the weight back, frowning.

Omega!Reader who gets pulled in, feeling hands groping from their ass up their spine, the alpha growling softly as his mouth reaches yours, feeling you how utterly intoxicating you smell.

Omega!Reader who whimpers, trying to nudge away and back up, their limbs feeling sorer than usual and the alpha holding on tightly.

Alpha!Ghost who is used to redundant flirting between alphas and betas, but when he catches sight of you in the gym, another Alpha touching you. Groping you...

Alpha!Ghost who does not hesitate, boiling anger rising in him as he pries the alphas hands off you, stepping between your body and his, staring down at the bold soldier.

Alpha!Ghost who is twice as big and twice as nasty, shoulders rolling back as he pushes the soldier. Sharper teeth in his face, like an animal scrapping for a carcass.

"You don't put one slimy hand on them, got it?" He'd growl deeply, shoving the soldier around easily.

Omega!Reader who feels their flutter in a way they haven't before when they smell the two scents clashing and Ghost shoving the man away. Getting protective of you. Protecting what was his.

Alpha!Ghost who makes the soldier run off and with heavy breathing turns to you. What is his.

Omega!Reader who rushes to Ghost, thanking him, your scent drowning him from his ears to his lungs. Your sweet voice and your scent choking him out. It's got him getting hard already.

Alpha!Ghost who decides to not let a single alpha hurt you or try anything again. Alpha Ghost who picks you up and brings you to his room.

Alpha!Ghost whose turn it is to show you his den properly, nestling you into his pillows, pulling off his mask and kissing you softly.

Alpha!Ghost whose kisses trail all the way down from your neck, to each sensitive part of you, feeling the way your body reacts and your breathing changes.

Omega!Reader who knows what Ghost's intentions are, and won't fight it.

"What... Will you do with me??" You ask as his mouth kisses past your belly button.

His eyes look up into your, a dangerous glint in them. Love, possessiveness, passion.

"I'll make you mine... No one will ever touch you."

Alpha!Ghost who is possessive enough to think the idea of tattooing his name right about your sex gets him harder than he thought. The idea of his scent being all over you, and his bite, and his mark. You would be his. In every way you were his and no one could touch you.

Alpha!Ghost who is determined that of all the times you'd laid with him this would be the best. Spending more time kissing you and whispering to you how much he wants it. Fingering you and getting your sloppy entrance ready for him.

Omega!Reader whose breathing is all over the place, moaning and their stomach flipping in excitement at the idea of being mated. And being mated to him. Strong enough to keep you safe, satisfied and happy.

Alpha!Ghost who takes it slow, teasing you. Kissing up your thighs, his cockhead grazing your hole, pushing to the skin and then pulling away, making you whimper. Ghost who could spend all day just listening to you making those sweet sounds for him.

"Gonna put it in, love..." He finally said, gripping his cock and pressing it in, sliding his thick length inside you.

Omega!Reader who is wrapped around Ghost's finger once again, back arching and trying to present still, with their insides full of him and his cock.

Alpha!Ghost who tried to be gentle, but after some time of watching your soft facial expression as his cock dragged in and out of you he needed more. His cock speeding up, finding his usual pace and thrusting himself deep inside you.

"Oh fuck... Always feel so bloody good for me, sweetheart-" He curses, his balls heavy with the thought of filling you and mating you.

Omega!Reader who is in the mating press, completely caged by his arms and unable to wriggle anywhere. His lips tracing your neck, licking the skin as his cock drives in and out of you with reckless abandon.

Alpha!Ghost who thrusts his hips violently in you, the idea of sinking his teeth into you. Breathing heavy against your neck, his chest pinned to you.

"Oh love.... Always feel so fuckin' good on my cock- oh fuck." He moans, hands clawing into your sides to keep you perfectly pinned under him.

Alpha!Ghost who can't help feeling so hot, needing this so badly.

"Fuck... You still on that pill baby?"

"Y-Yeah..." You choke out through his rough pounding.

Ghost practically whines, his cock swelling with his knot. He wanted to fuck his seed into you, he wants it to latch on and grow. He wants pups in you. He wants them so badly.

Alpha!Ghost who bites down on your neck, sinking his teeth into your flesh. Hearing you cry out and moan loudly as he marks you makes him cum. Spilling seed inside you, fucking you down on his knot, forcing it into your pretty little hole. Cumming harder than before.

Omega!Reader who can feel the bite mark, who can feel Ghost. Feeling him pull them up and rest their back to his chest, knot swelled up deep inside.

Alpha!Ghost who still insists on pampering his new mate, massaging your sex with his hand, making you whimper and quiver. His knot stuffed full in you, his hand on you, it makes you cum again.

Alpha!Ghost who purrs deeply against your neck, nuzzling you and rubbing his scent all over you. You smile softly as he rubs his cheek and chin all over your face and neck, purring as he covers you. His scent lingering on yours.

Alpha!Ghost who is content knowing you're his... You're his now. And no one else's.

Alpha!Ghost who watches you slip into a subspace, taking the time to care over every inch of you. Wrapped in his arms, warmly holding you, taking care of you as gingerly as he could.

Omega!Reader whose finally pulled off his knot and laid in bed, Ghost resting between their shoulders, feeling their fingers in his short hair. Still deeply purring from the bliss of having you as his mate. Kissing you everywhere, snuggling you up in his arms.

Alpha!Ghost who watches your droopy eyes flutter, still not fully here. But he keeps you close, kissing the top of your head.

"Now you're mine... My perfect mate."

Alpha!Ghost who had never considered having a mate.. but he's glad he chased it, and he's glad it's you.