#fuckin orange looking ass

[theyluvvaubery]

Trump said I love you elon, yk what that means

[girlwiththegreenhat]

any show finale that makes me cry like 4 times is a good finale in my book

[alexanderdarkomorningstar]

Thinking about the time my ex actually believed my alter ego was a whole ass person I was having an affair with 💀

[bi-writes]

can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!

mail-order bride

your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.

maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).

you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.

you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.

"hello?"

a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"

you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.

"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"

"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."

you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"

"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"

"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.

you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.

you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.

you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.

it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--

"'ello?"

"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"

"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"

"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"

"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"

"he's...b-but someone said surgery."

"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"

you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."

johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"

"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.

"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."

"mrs. riley?"

your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.

"you can see him now."

you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.

he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.

"tha' an angel?"

you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."

you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.

"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"

"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"

"shit happens."

you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.

"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"

"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.

"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."

simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.

"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.

"then don't."

he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.

"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.

family.

he has a family.

"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.

"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.

he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.

for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.

will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?

the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.

[nxtaliaistyping]

Jason Todd with breeding kink pls 👉👈?

Jason Todd + Breeding Kink <3

18+ smut, fem reader

“C’mon, push back into me.” Jason says gruffly, having slowed his pace down to a few slow but effortlessly deep thrusts into your cunt from behind.

When he’d come back from patrol, you’d practically jumped on him, needy beyond belief thanks to a particularly nasty wet dream. With the dawn sun streaming in through the blinds, Jason had hurriedly sought to give you what you wanted.

The way the soft orange rays bathed his face simply made you more desperate, reflecting off the deep pools of blue in his eyes. After ridding you both of clothes, and Jason’s fingers having pumped into you deliciously, you’d pushed him down and sank your needy pussy on him. In the frenzy, he hadn’t put a condom on, figuring he’d just pull out. While not the best solution for a man as responsible as Jason prides himself on being, it’d have to do.

Now, having grown tired of your messy bounces and instead thrown you into doggy style, he still manages to tease. Making you throw your ass back on him, impaling you on him after he’d been fucking your brains out.

“Jay…”

“No no, you can do it. I was gonna cum and didn’t wanna pull out just yet.”

Immediately your cunt tightens around him and you let out a pitiful whine. Using the most of your core strength, you fuck yourself on him with as rough of a pace as you physically can. He groans, feeling his cock throb at your determination.

“Don’t want you to pull out.” You sniffle, looking back at him from over your shoulder.

“I have to baby, m’not wearing a condom.”

“Don’t care…”

You truly don’t xare, about that or the fact you sound like a petulant child. You need him, need him to cum deep inside of you, to milk him for everything he can possibly give you. So you say three incredibly dangerous words.

“Please breed me.”

Your lover lets out a strangled noise, straight from the back of his throat. It’s almost like a dog being kicked, as he grips your hips hard to still you. His breathing becomes ragged.

“Fuck princess, you can’t say stuff like that.”

“I can Jason…I want it. I want you to breed me.”

He knows he shouldn’t, but god he nearly blew his load right there and then at your words. Taking a few shaking breaths, he calms himself down enough to grab at your throat, hoisting you up so you back arches and he can look down at your face.

“Y’want me to put a baby in you? Is that right?”

Your moan tells him everything, as he drops your head unceremoniously before moving his hips again. This time there’s no holding back, no he forces your upper half into the mattress and starts to pound you. The thick sound of him slapping against your backside with each thrust fills the air, and you nearly choke on that and the wanton noises that keep tumbling from your parted lips.

You can barely breathe, barely think as he rams into you again and again, making more noise than you’ve ever heard him make before.

“Okay…okay princess, I’ll give y’what you want. I’ll give you a baby…”

Gripping your thighs, he pulls out before flipping you over like a rag-doll; landing on your back with a soft grunt, you look up at him with bated breath as he pushes your thighs up and entering you again.

“Gonna fuckin’ breed you, just like you asked. Gotta make sure it takes.”

He angles himself before he starts fucking you nice and deep, watching your eyes roll back as you swear you can feel him messing up your insides with his cock. Your cunt squeezes him like a vice, and he knows it won’t be much longer.

“Keep squeezin’ me just like that, gonna make me cum deep inside this sweet pussy.” He mumbles, not completely sure what he’s actually saying with how turned on he is. “Gonna keep you nice and full.”

With a cry, his words tip you over the edge as you start to cum all over him. At your cunt gushing, he moans loudly and digs his nails into the plush of your hips so hard it almost hurts.

Then he’s cumming, and you gasp and twitch at the sensation. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he gasps and moans, swearing he's seeing stars or some kind of angelic apparition.

It takes him ages to pull out again, but when he does, he quickly collects any cum that seeps out and pushes it back inside, ignoring your overstimulated whimpers. Gently he sets your thighs back down, huge hands kneading the slightly sore muscles as he catches his bearings.

Although the next morning, he goes out and buys a morning after pill and watches you take it. He's not ready to be a father just yet.

[rainrot4me]

Clean Knife, Bloody Blade

Summary: When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…

Characters: Jeff the Killer x Menstruating Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Menstruation, period sex, vaginal with a dildo, toy play, vaginal, mentions of organs, blood, desperation, blood kink, teasing

Words: 3.2k

Jeff was terrible at showing affection.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, you knew he did, but to others, they could’ve never guessed. He was always upset, always brooding about something minuscule that would give him an excuse to snap and shrug others off. He was terrible company. But with you, even though subtle, he was calmer and had his head more on his shoulders than normal if you were around.

A calloused hand grasped around your wrist or a half-assed peck on the cheek indicated his affection. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like he was annoyed or had no desire to love you at all, but you knew that this was him trying his hardest to show his feelings. Even though the lack of cuddles and soft compliments itched at you sometimes, Jeff more than made up for it with the bloody carcass of some guy who catcalled you lying on your doorstep or the new pistol he had swiped for you on a mission. Jeff loved you in his own way, and you were more than grateful that he even tried at all, despite what others said.

Jeff always tried his hardest for you, tried more than he cared to for anyone else. And that stood true even now, as you laid in the bed squirming your pain and groaning into his pillows. Jeff was practically clueless. He knew what was happening and that it was nature, but it didn’t make it more comfortable to fuss with you over how dramatic you were being. Or to watch you sob and moan about some blood. Jeff dealt with blood every day, he just didn’t get the theatrics.

Until you began to cry, gripping your stomach as you wore his hoodie and sobbed into his pillow, whining your little heart out. The pale killer was stunned, awkward even as he tried to console you, trying to brush the tears from your eyes. “Just go get Jack. Tell ‘em to get me something.” You whined, rolling over and tugging the covers higher onto your shoulder. 

Jeff cringed, scurrying out of his room and down the hall, shooting for EJ’s lab in the hopes that he would have a better chance at getting you to stop than he could. Normally, Jeff would’ve been annoyed, pissed that you preferred to see some other guy than him, but right now he just wanted you better.

-

“And what does she want me to do about it?” Jack groaned, shuffling through some forceps and scalpels to neatly cut open the human stomach he was working on, trying to push the leftovers of the victim’s last meal out before nibbling on a strip of the raw meat. Jeff cringed, groaning at the way it popped as it tore, squishy in the demon’s mouth. “I don’t fuckin’ know? Just figured you’d be better at this than me. All medical and shit…” The killer scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, chewing at the tear on his lip. He hated compliments, hated trying to butter someone up, but he sucked it up. 

Jack chuckled, pulling his mask back down over his chin before moving, shuffling through a cabinet nestled above his messy desk. There were all sorts of pills inside, little orange and green translucent bottles that read ‘Wright’ and scribbled doctor’s signatures. How someone was giving Jack all of this medicine Jeff didn’t care to ask, he only noticed when Jack pulled down some painkiller in a white bottle, little pink tablets falling out. 

“Ibuprofen. Give ‘er like three. Maybe some food too, bad to cramp on an empty stomach.” The commands were giving Jeff whiplash, shoving the bottle into his pocket and staring as Jack circled back to his unfinished plate. “If that doesn’t work, try telling her to masturbate.” 

Jeff almost ran into the wall on his way out. What in the actual hell? Jeff tried to laugh as he turned, thinking Jack was joking but his expression was unwavering, gnawing on the tendon of a stomach valve as he smiled. Jeff couldn’t even be mad, stunned more than anything as he let his face show his confusion, letting his mouth hang open. “It’s true. Lulu told me one time. Helps with muscle tension or something. I read up on it a bit but wasn’t relevant to me, so I didn’t care. Guess it’s useful now.” Jack smiled, turning back to his plate and shooing Jeff out, shutting the door behind him as Jeff’s eyes remained wide and stunned, finally clenching his teeth and stomping up the stairs. 

You took the pills easily, letting Jeff convince you to eat a muffin before laying back down, groaning as you gripped his arm, legs curled into yourself. He stared down at you, awkwardly gnawing away at the thought Jack had set in his head. Masturbating? While you were bleeding? There was no way that could be enjoyable. But as you nudged your head against his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pawing at this shirt, Jeff groaned, rubbing your back. 

Normally you were a little live wire, a little ball of energy that combatted his anger perfectly. You were perfect for him, emotionally and physically. But seeing that little ball of excitement cripple and falter under your pain made him upset, angered that he couldn’t do anything more. He hated seeing you like this, no matter how reluctant he would be to admit it. Jeff wasn’t a sappy guy, far from it, but right now he would do anything to make his girl feel better.

He started slow, nervous that you’d be too overstimulated to even want him to touch you as he rolled you onto your back, pressing down to kiss along your cheeks. You lay confused, squirming as his hands rubbed your sides, gently gripping and soothing your hot skin. “Jeff… Quit…” You groaned as he pecked your lips, tucking your hair behind your ears as he tugged his hoodie over your head. “Chill out.” He nipped, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones and purposefully holding yours down, calming your reluctant body as he rubbed at your stomach, kissing against your jaw. Your skin was hot, clammy against his hands as he pushed your shirt up, you finally realizing what he was doing.

“Jeff.” You grit, shoving him off as you sat up, irritated that he would even try right now. Jeff awkwardly tried to explain, rubbing your arms as he settled you back onto the bed, standing up to grab a towel in his closet. “Listen. Jack gave me some advice or somethin’. Said jerking off helps with your cramps. We don’t gotta, but…” Jeff also reached for the small bag you kept in his closet, tugging it open and tugging out a dildo around his size, awkwardly shoving the bag back into the closet as you watched, cheeks already flushing. “Jeff, it's nasty.” You warned, bringing your knees to your chest and sliding back as Jeff stood at the edge of the bed, lying the items down before continuing to kiss along your face. “Baby, I cut people up. I think I’ll be okay.” He snickered, lying you back down onto his bed.

You nervously laid, squirming your legs together as Jeff pressed between your knees, standing at the end of the bed. He tugged up your hips, sliding the towel underneath you as he pressed his cool hands along your arms, trailing them up into your shirt as he nipped into your neck. You sighed, skin hot and cunt already bothered as you tried to pry your knees tight around his waist. This was going to be weird regardless, your anxiety about the whole thing shining through as Jeff tugged your shirt over your head, palming at your boobs until you were tugging his hands away. “Sensitive.” You hissed, letting his hands fall back at your hips.

He grit, tugging your shorts down and smiling as you shyly closed in on yourself, turning your face into the sheets as he hooked them off of your ankles. He could already see the blood stained onto your panties, your pad doing little against it. Personally, you wanted to die, embarrassment hooking your every whine as Jeff hooked under your panties, tugging them down and gently massaging your thighs, letting you calm down. It was messy, sure, but the killer knew what he was getting himself into. 

You refused to look at him, knees hugged tightly to his sides as he cleaned the blood staining your folds gently as your pelvis ached, cunt tingling under you as Jeff leaned in to kiss your lips, reassuring you coldly. “You’re fine. Stop movin’ so much. It’s just blood.” This was as close as he was getting to gentle, but his words soothed you all the same. You still hid in the sheets, letting Jeff clean your inner thighs as he massaged along your leg, efforts reluctant as you just leaked more. 

The sight of your cunt covered in blood didn’t particularly turn Jeff on, but it didn’t disgust him either. It was just you, that stupid personality and all-too-caring attitude that he loved, he didn’t really care what you looked like in turn. He didn’t really mind what was going on between your legs, just as long as he was one of them. 

“Open up. There ya go.” He chimed, reaching for the dildo and pressing it to your mouth, beckoning you to listen. You obliged, spreading your lips around the girth and licking along the underside, soaking the silicone in your saliva. Jeff didn’t force it, didn’t push it to make you gag like he loved to do, just let it soak. He smiled at you, nudging his thumb between your folds and pressing against your clit, letting you groan against the toy as he felt your knees loosen around his hips. You had never done anything on your period, always so grossed out and irritated to try, but you could already just feel the difference. It was so much more intense, clit so sensitive under the pad of his thumb that you were holding your eyes shut, hips falling and rising against the movement of the digit. It was heavenly, and Jeff noticed, smiling as you practically ground yourself up against him. “Feel good?” He teased, tugging the dildo out of your mouth and sliding it against your stomach, saliva wiping against your warm skin. You nodded, sighing as he pressed up, hips catching and stuttering against it. 

Jeff slid the dildo against your folds, blood catching on the tip and spreading against your inner thighs. He smiled, enjoying how easy it was to push his knee under your thigh and open you up more, movements too lost in the feeling of the dildo halted against your entrance. Jeff held his thumb still, letting the dildo that was a little smaller than his own size begin to push into your aching cunt, cramps pushing out of the way and slowly fading into pleasure as the toy pressed into you. You groaned, a desperate ache of pain and pleasure soaking in as the dildo snugged your walls, pressing against your sensitivity. It just felt so good, entrance aching around the size but the thumb swiping against your clit made up for it. 

When Jeff’s fingers gripped around the base of the dildo and touched your folds, you knew it was bottomed out, cunt clenching tight around the intrusion. “Took it good, yeah? Basically pulled it in.” Jeff laughed, tugging the dildo out before slowly rocking it back in, angling the silicone up so it pressed just right against your swollen walls. You whined, back instantly pushing off of the mattress and arching into the feeling, the slowness tearing you apart. “Oh, God-” You groaned, tugging the sheets hard as Jeff fucked you painfully slow with the toy, watching close at how your body moved with it, hips rolling at every push of his hand. He had found a new kink just now, unfortunately. 

The killer continued to fuck you with the dildo, contorting and tugging the length so it stretched you nicely, thumb effortlessly making you flinch and squirm as he watched blood slowly leak from your tight entrance, pooling beneath you. It was satisfying, really, the further he pushed the toy the more blood spilled. In Jeff’s sicko brain, it reminded him of stabbing someone, digging his knife in and watching the blood just run, smiling at the irony of it all. He pushed harder.

You were loud now, tears running down your cheeks as you gasped at every shove of the dildo, sensitivity riding on every ounce of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. Jeff was lost, busy watching your cunt and your screwed-up face, and couldn’t hear your silent sobs to stop or slow down, him only pushing harder. “Jeff- God- Wait, I’m… I think- Ah-” You mewled, letting your cunt squeeze down hard against the toy, walls aching as you came, body squirming and writhing as Jeff still bobbed it in and out as your cunt gushed. It took you sitting up, palming at his shoulders before he would stop, barely even realizing you had came until you were sobbing into his shoulder, dildo slipping out of your soppy cunt as you palmed at his jeans, his boner beckoning you. “Not… not enough. Need it.” You whined, words so jumbled and head so light Jeff thought you were losing it, eyes going wide as he realized what you meant. You still ached, still coming down from your orgasm but walls needing more, needing that relief from the pain again.

“Shit- Ah- Okay. Shit.” Jeff jumbled, stuttering as you eventually tugged his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke, leaning back and tugging him closer. He barely even had time, barely could get hard before you were holding his hips and begging him to push in, blood and your own arousal seeping around the tip of his cock nestled between your folds. “Okay, yeah. Shit-” He couldn’t even think to get a condom, couldn’t tell himself you were probably too post-nut high to realize you were too overwhelmed, but with those big eyes staring at him and your flushed cheeks pouting, he couldn’t help but groan his arousal as he pressed in. 

It was warm. Like, warmer than normal, warm. And you were tight too. Your walls fluttered around his cock, swelling against the length that curved and nudged deeper than the dildo, head falling back into the mattress as you moaned out. Jeff cursed, fists gripping your hips tight as he sunk in, watching the blood pool around his cock and seep down onto the towel, your entrance twitching and tightening with every inch that entered. “Needy, huh? You’re so tight, God-” He grunted, straining as he bottomed out and let your hips squirm against his, already beckoning him to move. It was like you were in heat, body more focused on how fast you could cum again than if you even wanted to. It turned Jeff on terribly bad. This version of you was exciting.

Like the dildo, he let his hips rock, bending his knees to angle into your cunt better and sink against your g-spot so nicely, leaving your arms clasped into his hair and dragging him down on top of you. Your skin was so hot, flushed deep as he locked his lips onto yours, rocking his hips into your soppy cunt and relishing in the way it gushed around him. He pushed up, digging his knees into the mattress and letting your thighs wrap around his back, his cock sinking further down and into you as your body contorted under him. You were scrunched, clasping onto his body desperately as you chased another orgasm, stomach fluttering and hips rocking with every movement. “So good- Can’t… Can’t hold on- Faster-” You huffed between slobber-filled kisses, letting Jeff dig his palms into the sheets underneath you and push his knees in deeper, letting his hips pull up much further and sink down just as deep. You were practically purring, mouth hanging open as Jeff bit into your jaw, nibbling the skin as he panted against you, shoving his cock into the hot glove of your cunt. 

“Beg me to fuck you and you’re still not satisfied. Jesus, woman.” Jeffrey grit through pants, leaning back off of you and digging his hands into your waist, tugging his legs further apart to open yours more before snapping his hips into your warmth, hearing the loud squelch and squirts as you writhed, moaning into your hands. Jeff smiled, clawing his hands to your tits and palming hard, letting you scratch and whine at his grasp about sensitivity and to let off, but he refused. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed that the ache in your pelvis practically vanished, pleasure rippling through your body as you arched and squirmed against the cock quickly pressing down against every inch of your gummy walls. You were cumming again, sobbing as you scratched Jeff’s muscled arms and held on tight, letting his cock fuck you through your desperate orgasm and fight against the overstimulation that crept through your body. 

“There ya go, just like that. Don’t even gotta worry.” Jeff mewled, letting his cock sink deep and rest in your cunt, your walls clenching hard around him, fluttering as he twitched and ached inside of you, restraining to cum until your sobs quieted, little whines and gasp all that was left. “Did so good.” He grits as he tugged his cock out, the length soaked and stained in your blood and arousal, fist quick to grasp around and pump himself over you, watching as you panted with heavy eyes. The blood stained his hand, smearing as he came against your folds, letting his seed run and mix with your blood as he groaned, palming at your thighs. “Fuck.. yeah…” He smiled, rubbing his tip against your clit for good measure before tugging back, scooping the messy towel out and cleaning what he could. 

You were too sleepy to hear the bath run in the room over, body still twitching and relaxing as your cramps stayed at a dull roar now, pleasure overtaking them. Jeff scooped you up, his body bare now as he stripped the rest of your clothes, cutting the faucet off before sliding you both into the large tub, letting your back rest against his chest. You mewled, leaning back against his shoulder and letting your eyes flutter shut, rubbing the arms that wrapped around your waist. “Thank you.” You sighed, the hot water soothing your body nicely. “It was hot, so worth it.” Jeff chuckled, tucking your hair out of the way as he kissed your forehead. 

You knew he cared. He had strange ways of showing it, ever reluctant to become soft and vulnerable. But you relished the moments where he got close, like now. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the most affectionate, sappy guy to have, but it was more than enough for you. 

Even if he was terrible at showing affection, the dedication to you more than paid its part. 

This was a request by @bubbleduckie!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: First kiss with this Yoongi (have fun with that), one sexist remark from your dummy bestie, baby mama shows up, cliffhanger

Word count: 5.3k

Posting date: November 19, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Icymi, we did a poll and results show y’all wanted to break this into two parts so we shall have a part 3. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Masterlist

Ever since that dinner when you inadvertently confessed about your age-old attraction to him and assured him that any residual feelings are buried in a metaphorical time capsule, Yoongi seems to have made it his personal mission to rizz you up on purpose.

Haneul’s been especially rambunctious all day. Mealtime is no exception. Yoongi volunteers to feed him, thinking he can rein in some of the pent-up energy. At some point, Haneul squeezes his pouch of organic muesli and carrot puree with so much enthusiasm that it explodes everywhere, sending bright orange flecks across Yoongi’s face and pristine white tee.

“GAHHH!” Yoongi yelps, staring down at the mess, while Haneul absolutely loses it, tiny belly-shaking laughter filling the room.

“Silly, silly sarang,” you coo, using the pet name you’d started calling Haneul lately. It’s adorable how he beams every time he hears it, flashing you that gummy grin like he knows he’s your favorite troublemaker. You laugh too, as you wipe a splatter of puree from Haneul’s cheek with the muslin cloth you were holding.

“Do I have something on my face, too?” Yoongi leans towards you expectantly with the barest of smirks.

“Uh… yeah.” You say, flipping the cloth to a clean side and wiping off the smudge on his cheeks and his chin, and that pesky little morsel on the side of his lip.

For some reason, you seem to need a blast of oxygen straight to your lungs. Stat.

With a lick of his lips, Yoongi nods his thanks. “Gotta change,” he mumbles, lifting the shirt away from his chest with a grimace and walks towards the hallway to his room.

And you almost regret your decision to look back, almost.

Because, oh wow, he’s taking his shirt off. Yep. Fuckin’ dammit. The shirt is off.

Christ.

His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his hair. The infamous “7” tattoo on his shoulder is taunting you. You are unable to pull your eyes away, already knowing you’re doomed.

Then, before he mercifully disappears into his room, he glances over his shoulder and catches you staring. Shit. Your heart plummets straight to your ass. He smirks, U-turns towards you shirtless and utterly shameless.

Your nerves short-circuit as he reaches out, just barely brushing your thigh to pick up his phone from the mat. His eyes hold yours, a dark glint of mischief in them, “You good?”

“Huh?” The brain fog is crazy. You will yourself to keep your eyes above his chest, but of course you gone did it.

Why are his nipples so cute? And damn is that a happy trail?

He snickers softly, like he knows exactly what’s going through your head. ���I’ll be back. Han’s eating the remote by the way.”

And with that, he saunters off, leaving you there, a blushing, flustered mess as you find Haneul gnawing on the remote control.

You pull it quickly from his grasp, muttering under your breath, “Sarang, why are you and your appa being such a menace?”

He babbles happily at you, as if he knows he’s not the only troublemaker with a gummy grin in this house that got you wrapped around their finger.

The next time you’re at the Min’s, Yoongi is clearly in a rush, checking his phone and mumbling to himself as he zips up his jacket. “Just text me if you need anything, okay?” he calls over his shoulder, already half out the door.

“Got it,” you reply, bending to set your shoes on the rack. You glance down, expecting to see your usual house slippers—but something else catches your eye.

It’s a… capybara? Big, fluffy, and incredibly cozy-looking slippers, with soft little ears and embroidered eyes, just waiting for you. They’re exactly your size. They’re yours, right? It’s in your usual spot. Beside it… another pair. Same goofy capybara face, but larger. Did Yoongi get a pair for himself, too?

You slip them on, feeling their warmth, their plushness, and a little shiver of wonder and disbelief spreads through you. Yoongi thought of this—thought of you. The butterflies in your stomach are in a frenzy now, and you can’t help but smile, giddy and a little stunned. 

The door swings open. “I forgot my—” Yoongi stops mid-sentence.

You’re standing there, wiggling your toes inside the ridiculous capybara slippers, and when you look up, you catch the slight flush creeping across his cheeks. There’s something so unmistakably soft about his expression and it makes your heart do a strange little flip.

“Please tell me they’re mine,” you jut your bottom lip out, a hopefulness you can’t quite hide.

Yoongi steps inside just enough to grab his keys from the table, shrugs, “Who else would they be for?”

And just like that, he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

You’re left standing there, the capybara slippers snug around your feet, Yoongi’s words replaying in your mind. Your heart flutters as you stare down at them, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this small, thoughtful gesture means as much to him as it does to you.

Since then, you start noticing the small ways Yoongi shows his care. Each time he heads out, he leaves little comforts behind—an extra pillow for you on the couch, a plate of fruit on the coffee table, a cup of Silver Moon tea he prepared for you.

More and more, you start to extend your day to night that Yoongi almost expects you now to stay for dinner or join him for Haneul’s nighttime rituals.

Haneul’s bedtime stories have become a team effort—one night you’re reading, the next it’s Yoongi, who’s surprisingly great with voice acting and sound effects. (You should have known!) When Haneul finally drifts off, Yoongi always waits a moment, exchanging a small, tired smile with you as if to say, We did it.

And before you know it, that age-old crush that you said was buried in a metaphorical time capsule? Yoongi just dug it right back up.

One evening, as you rock Haneul to sleep in your arms, Yoongi comes in quietly, setting down a couple of takeout boxes and two cans of Coke on the coffee table. The baby’s small breaths are warm against your shoulder, his eyelids fluttering as he settles into sleep. You gently lay him down in his crib, brushing a hand over his soft hair before joining Yoongi on the couch. 

“Hungry?” Yoongi asks, sliding a takeout box in your direction. He’s not looking directly at you, focused instead on peeling back the lid of his own food.

“Starving,” you admit, smiling as you pick up your chopsticks. “Thank you.”

The quiet clinks of chopsticks and soft laughter fill the room as you both dig in. Conversation with Yoongi has started to come easier lately, and tonight, it flows so naturally you barely notice the time passing. 

“So, what got you into teaching?” he asks, glancing over at you between bites. “You seem good at it. Really good, actually. Haneul has so many party tricks now.”

You pause, laughing a little to mask the warmth in your cheeks. “I just love kids. I enjoy their energy, even if it’s chaotic.” You glance down. “I’ve always wanted my own. Just… hasn’t quite worked out that way yet.”

He nods, not pressing you, just letting you continue.

“I was in a long-term relationship, but things ended because he wasn’t looking for that kind of future,” you say quietly. “I really wanted a family, kids, but he didn’t. He didn’t even believe in marriage. So, it ended, and I guess that’s why I left and went back home.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Must have been so difficult for you.”

You nod, swallowing down the ache that lingers. “Yeah. I think part of me is still working through it, honestly. I hope you don’t think this is weird. But being here, with Han…” you sigh. “I don’t know, it’s helping. Even if he’s not quite mine.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze shifting to his hands, fingers tracing the rim of his soda can. “It’s not weird. Look, you’ve helped us a lot, too. Having you here has made things feel… lighter. Happier.”

The words send a flutter through you, a feeling that scares you as much as it comforts you. Because this feels too domestic. A taste of that life you’ve always longed for. With Jiyong, for years. But now, it’s only Yoongi’s face you see in your mind’s eye. Yoongi and Haneul. You then realize how badly you want this, but you’re afraid of wanting it–afraid of what it might mean to get attached to someone like Yoongi.

“I appreciate that.” You reply. “How have you been adjusting to life as a single dad?” 

Yoongi glances over at you, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t expect that it would be this rewarding,” he says, his voice soft, but it trails off. “But… it’s lonely sometimes.” He pauses, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of his sleeve. “Not just the parenting stuff, but the other parts. Like when Haneul does something for the first time—takes a step, says a new word—and I just… look around.”

He shrugs, his lips twitching into a small, self-conscious smile. “And it hits me that there’s no one there to share it with. No one to laugh with, to say like, ‘Hey, did you see that?’”

He laughs quietly, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. Maybe that sounds selfish. But it’s the truth.”

You shake your head. “It’s not. I think we all want someone to share our life with. It’s not wrong to want that.”

He looks over at you, his gaze holding yours with a gentle intensity. “I guess… it’s easier to admit that with you here. It’s funny because in some ways, you’ve been that person for me, for us.”

The words hang between you and the silence stretches, buzzing with a feeling you can’t quite name. You’re painfully aware of every detail—the curve of his lips, the way his hand rests on his lap, the tenderness in his eyes. You know there’s something there, simmering, and you wonder if he can feel it too.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “Thanks for being here tonight. Really.”

You smile back, heart racing. “Thank you for trusting me. I know… this isn’t easy for you.”

As you sit there, side by side in your matching capybara slippers, the feeling of wanting more, of something real and lasting, settles into your chest. It’s a feeling you thought you’d put on the backburner, but here, with Yoongi, it’s igniting again.

You find yourself chilling at Namjoon’s apartment, days after that dinner, sprawled across his couch with a plate of instant jjajangmyeon balanced precariously on your lap. Some indie album is playing in the background, and you’re too caught up in your spiraling thoughts to even notice Namjoon observing you between bites.

“I’m screwed,” you say suddenly, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Namjoon doesn’t even look affected. “What now?”

“It’s your fault, you big oaf.”

“K stop being cryptic,” he says, motioning for you to explain. “What did I do this time?”

You drop your chopsticks with an exasperated sigh. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm… What about hyung?”

You hesitate, pressing your lips together before blurting out, “I think… I think I like him… again.”

For a moment, Namjoon just stares at you, his expression unreadable. And then he has the audacity to laugh, nearly choking on his noodles as he leans back against the cushions.

“You’re so predictable,” he says between chuckles, shaking his head. “God I knew this was coming.”

You narrow your eyes at him, offended. “What do you mean you knew this was coming?”

“I mean, come on,” he says, gesturing at you with his chopsticks. “You’ve been spending all this time at his place, basically co-parenting Haneul with him. You’re acting like this is some big revelation when it’s been written all over your face.”

You stare at him. “Wow. Are you done?”

Namjoon smirks, tossing his empty takeout box onto the table before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Let’s unpack this,” he says, mock-serious. “You like him again. Fine. Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because, dude, it’s Yoongi. What if he’s not actually feeling it, which won’t be the first time? And! I still don't know why he suddenly has a son.”

“You have to ask him that.” Namjoon sets his drink down, his expression sobering slightly. “But answer this—Are you over Jiyong?”

The mention of your ex makes your stomach twist, but you nod, sighing. “Yeah. I’m over him. I’ve come to terms with it. He wasn’t the one for me.”

“Damn right, he wasn’t,” Namjoon mutters, shaking his head. “That guy was an asshole. I never liked him, you know.”

“I know,” you say, laughing softly. “You made it pretty obvious.”

“Good,” he replies firmly. “Because you deserve better. Way better.”

You glance at him, your heart warming a little. “Thanks, Joon.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, leaning back against the couch. “We’re not done talking about hyung.”

You groan again, flopping back against the cushions. “This is so pathetic.”

“No, it’s not,” Namjoon says, his voice softening. “It’s cute. Gross, but cute. And honestly, if hyung’s finally starting to let someone in, I’d rather it be you than some rando.”

You blink, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “You’re really still shipping us after all these years?”

“Of course,” he says, nudging your knee with his. “You’re good for each other. I’ve known this all along.”

A pause settles as you finish your meal and Namjoon, his drink.

Then, he shakes his head like he’s just realized something. “So this is why Yoongi hyung has been sneaking in some extra work out time in between rehearsals.”

“He’s been walking around his house shirtless. Well, it’s his house, so…” you shrug, pretending you dgaf when really you’ve been thwarting mini heart attacks.

Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” you warn, pointing your chopsticks at him.

He smiles wide, teeth blackened by the jajangmyeon sauce. “Only if you say yes to a night out.”

You groan, already mourning the loss of a perfectly good night of doom scrolling, as you toss him a paper towel. “Fine. When?”

You arrive at the bar later than planned. It’s some newly opened speak-easy in Gangnam owned by Joon’s friend. As you push the door that looks like a bookcase from outside, a rush of cool air ruffles the skirt you’re wearing. You definitely took a bit of time selecting your outfit and doing your makeup today, and now you feel really good, great even, even though you initially dreaded going out.

As you scan the room, you spot Namjoon in a large circular booth near the back, surrounded by familiar faces. He spots you first, waving you over with that dimpled grin of his. As you approach, you notice that the atmosphere is already loose and lively, evidenced by the various bottles and half-consumed glasses already on the table. 

Jin is leaning back, looking exasperated, and Hobi is covering his mouth as he laughs, his face flushed from the drinks he’s clearly had more than a few of. And there’s a girl beside him, who you vaguely recognize as the same one from when you watched their rehearsals.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Namjoon calls out, standing up to envelop you in a hug.

“The star has arrived,” you jest, doing a flower pose on your face. Hobi rises to give you a hug, then Jin follows suit. 

“This is Yunjin,” Hobi introduces the redhead beside him. “My lovely wife.”

Yunjin has the same megawatt smile to match Hobi’s. “Glad to meet you.”

“Good to meet you, too!” you say back as you hug.

“You clean up nice,” your best friend comments as you all settle back inside the booth. “When you’re not acting like a hermit in your condo.”

“I know,” you roll your eyes, surreptitiously scanning the vicinity. “Who else is coming?” you hope you’re not painfully obvious on who you were wishing would be there.

“Just us,” Joon side eyes you, before adding. “Yoongi-hyung just stepped away for a second.”

“Ah.” 

As if on cue, Yoongi steps into view.

And goddamn. Your brain corrupts for a moment, and you swear you hear soft K-drama OST music in the background.

He runs a hand through his hair as he surveys the room as if he has some invisible wind machine following him. He’s wearing a black blazer that fits perfectly over a simple white tank. There’s a flash of silver at his waist from his belt that hugs his light-wash jeans. A small pop of pink on his neck somehow softens the whole look, a cute touch.

He looks so effortlessly good it’s almost obnoxious. The thing is, you’re pretty sure he knows it. That smirk on his face is very telling.

“Hey, you made it,” he says quietly, sliding into the seat next to you as if he belongs there. He grabs the drink by your elbow to take a sip and you get a whiff of his scent—musky, woody, dangerous.

“Yeah,” you squeak, no clue how you will manage to act normally around him now, but a joke seemed appropriate. “Shit. Nobody said my ‘employer’ was gonna be here. Now I have to be on my best behavior.” You say to the others in a whisper.

“DON’T,” Yoongi groans, shaking his head, lower lip bitten in mock irritation.

The rest laugh at your exchange. Hobi slides a shot of whatever to you, and you take it, grateful.

“You missed a big reveal by the way,” Namjoon says. “Apparently, Jin-hyung has officially sworn off women for all eternity.”

Jin rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha. It’s called having a life outside of getting your dick wet, thank you very much. Not everyone needs to be a simp like you.”

“Who is it this time, Joonie?” You ask, taking a tiny sip from the shot glass.

“Soyeon.” Everyone says in chorus. Even Yoongi says it under his breath.

“Oh, god,” you breathe out. “You’re on again?”

Namjoon sighs, “I know, I know. She’s got me in a chokehold.”

Jin raises his drink. “To Namjoon-ah, the biggest simp we know.”

Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in defeat as everyone clinks glasses.

“…and to Seokjin being forever bitchless.” You add under your breath, exchanging giggles with Yunjin.

“Yah!” Jin shouts from his beer glass and you throw him a wink.

“Speaking of simping,” Hobi says, drawing out the word as he looks pointedly at Yoongi. 

“Hoba.” Yoongi warns. You’re curious now.

“The new songwriters Si-hyuk on-boarded from America. They saw you with Haneul. I heard them calling you a DILF.”

Hobi practically falls apart, laughing so hard he clutches his sides. Jin and Namjoon aren’t far behind, their cackling attracting stares from neighboring tables. Even Yoongi can’t fully suppress his grin, though he tries valiantly to play it off. You laugh along, but you feel your face heating up and you don’t know exactly why.

“So you already have an in,” Jin says, reaching over to give Yoongi a hearty slap on the back. “Even you could use a good distraction once in a while.”

“Hajimaaaa,” Yoongi complains, brushing off Jin’s grasp on his shoulder. “Hoba’s just making shit up.”

“I’m not lying!” Hobi raises his right hand up as if he’s swearing an oath. Then he mock-complains, “Nobody ever calls me a DILF.”

Yunjin elbows him on the stomach and Hobi splutters, as they start bickering playfully.

Then Namjoon turns his sights on you. “Hey y/n, you're a girl,” he starts and immediately, you know he is setting you up for something.

“Keen eye,” you deadpan, placing the shot glass on your lips.

“So,” Namjoon says, dimples deepening as he leans in, gestures to Yoongi, “objectively… is he?”

“Is he what?” you grit, but your eyes are screaming ‘Don’t you dare, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you fucking dare, you piece of shit.’

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, looking every bit the trouble-maker. “A DILF?”

Motherfucker.

You nearly choke on your drink, fighting the urge to strangle your best friend as his grin widens, clearly enjoying your discomfort. 

“You’re an asshole, objectively speaking. And I need a real drink if this is how tonight’s gonna go,” you down the entire shot before moving to slide out of the booth to escape before you’re forced to answer.

Yoongi moves out to give you space and decides, “I’ll go with you.” 

As you head toward the bar together, you feel the warmth of Yoongi’s hand on the small of your back. You chance a quick look back at Namjoon, who’s wearing an absolute shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself, like this has been his master plan all along—more than ten years in the making.

You decide to go to the bar outside. It’s quieter here and you also need the fresh air.

“Sorry about that…” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck.

“Oh please, no need to apologize for Namjoon’s dumb behavior.” You wave a hand, as if it’s really no big deal. But your insides are still churning.

“So who’s with Haneul tonight?” You ask as you perch on the bar stool.

“My eomma. She’s going to be staying in town for the next two weeks since it’s Han’s birthday.”

“Wow,” you say, excited. “What’s the plan?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Ah, something small. Just family, maybe a couple of friends. Nothing too big. He won’t even remember it.”

You laugh lightly. “Yeah, but you should be celebrating your first year as a dad, too.”

He smiles faintly at that, nodding. “Maybe. But I’m terrible at planning stuff like this. I was gonna keep it simple—a cake, some balloons, that’s it.”

“Well, if you need help, let me know,” you offer casually, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach flutters at the thought of being part of something so special.

“You sure?”

“100%,” you say, nudging him lightly with your elbow. 

“I don’t want to impose, though. You already do so much.”

“You’re not imposing,” you reply firmly. “I want to help. Besides, I’m already halfway to being Han’s favorite person.”

“Halfway?” he repeats, huffing. “You’ve already taken that spot–100%.”

You grin, feeling your cheeks warm. “What can I say? I’m irresistible to one-year-olds.”

Yoongi’s still for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. There’s something thoughtful in his expression, before mumbling under his breath, “Maybe not just to one-year-olds.”

Eh?

But before you can say anything, he already gestures to call the bartender to take your drink orders.

You’re glad you went out tonight. It’s been a while since you had spent time with a group that made you feel so welcome. Despite the jovial mood you’re in, your social battery is definitely drained. Yoongi notices and asks if you want a ride home since he also needs to go for father duties. You both say your goodbyes and head to his car in the parking lot.

The drive is quiet but not awkward, the soft music filling the space between you during the quick drive to your apartment. When he pulls up in front of your place, you hesitate for a second, debating whether to invite him in. But then you remember the absolute disaster inside—clothes flung everywhere, shoes scattered, your makeup bag abandoned on the kitchen counter in your rush to get ready. Plus, you don’t even have a couch, so…

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’d invite you in, but, uh… my place looks like a crime scene right now.”

He has a confused look on his face, so you explain, “Tried on half my closet before settling on this.”

His gaze sweeps over your outfit, but not in a way that feels invasive. If anything, he looks appreciative. “Worth it,” he says simply, and your heart does a somersault.

There’s a moment, a pause where you should say goodnight. Get out of the car. But something about the way Yoongi’s eyes are still on you makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, it’s like the air between you feels heavier.

“Stay here,” he says softly, stepping out of the car and walking around to your side. He opens your door, his hand outstretched to help you out, and you take it, letting him guide you onto the sidewalk.

He doesn’t let go of your hand. The short walk up to your apartment feels longer than it should, yet you don’t want it to end.

When you reach your door, you turn to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Well… goodnight, I guess.”

Yoongi hesitates for a moment, hand still lightly grasping yours. “I need to tell you something.”

“Okay…” Your throat felt dry saying that.

“I umm found Haneul a nanny. Youngbae-hyung recommended this agency they used to find theirs and I’ve signed on someone who’s starting soon.”

You’re a little shocked at the news. This is good though because Yoongi really needs a more reliable and constant solution to their caregiving needs. Despite the heavy feeling that has settled in your chest, you try to lighten the mood with a joke that doesn’t quite land, “Why does this feel like a break-up?”

Yoongi shakes his head, lips curved into a small smirk, as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, “Not even close.” He releases a sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you nod, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I kiss you goodnight?”

The question takes you by surprise, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart ache, but this time, in the best way. You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. You can.”

He steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm before tilting your chin up gently. The kiss is soft, tentative, like he’s savoring every second. You are, too. It’s just… sweet. Like a first kiss should be. Perfect.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. For a moment, neither of you moves, like you can’t believe what just happened.

Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut as he confesses, “Is it bad that I want to do that again already?”

“No, ‘cause same…” Your hands reach out, grasping the lapels of his jacket, and you pull him back in.

Yoongi responds instantly, his hands sliding to your waist as he presses you gently against the wall, his warmth and weight upon you dangerously addictive. His tongue brushes yours, soft and slick, that spark of contact so electric that you feel yourself melting further into him. Your arms loop around his neck, bringing him closer, and when his lips part against yours, his teeth catch your bottom lip, sucking on it softly before letting it go. The sensation sends a shiver racing down your spine, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes you.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, threading through the silky strands before one hand slides down to find the belt loop of his jeans. You tug on it, pulling him impossibly closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies.

Yoongi groans against your mouth as your bodies collide, your chest against his, his leg in between your thighs, fitting into each other like tetris pieces. As your nails scratch the tufts of hair by his nape, a rumble, low and rough, escapes his throat, sending another wave of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist tighter, grounding you even as your world shifts.

When you finally pull back, your breaths come fast and uneven. His hair is slightly mussed from your fingers, his lips flushed and slightly parted, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder. You feel kind of proud, taking in his sexy, disheveled appearance.

“I really should’ve tidied up my place,” you murmur, your fingers still loosely hooked in his belt loop.

Yoongi blinks, dazed for a moment, before letting out a soft chuckle. “It’s fine. There will be other times.” His fingers brush against your shoulder as he gently hooks the strap of your top that had slipped down, carefully sliding it back into place.

“Other times, huh?” you tease.

He licks his kiss-bitten lip, smirks and says, “Good night.”

“Good night,” you reply as you watch him retreat down the hall.

“I’ll text you,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing into the elevator, leaving you standing at your doorway, your lips still tingling and your heart on your sleeve.

You close the door, leaning back against it with a sigh.

That same night, you resolve to go to IKEA to finally buy a damn couch and a bedframe. You know, just in case. For those other times.

Yoongi: haneul says he misses you You: Oh, rly? He talks full sentences now? Yoongi: yes? You: I miss him, too. Yoongi: good. see u tomorrow? You: I’m so there, no question Yoongi: good night

Yoongi’s apartment is alive with energy, the living room transformed into a whimsical—but slightly chaotic—mix of cats and capybaras. It’s a theme that feels both playful and oddly fitting, a nod to Haneul’s love for capybaras (which you take full credit for) and Yoongi being a literal cat daddy. Yours, hopefully, but the thing is… it’s been awkward. At least for you.

You spent the morning hanging streamers, tying balloons, and carefully setting up the decorations while Yoongi grumbled about the sheer number of things to assemble.

At some point, Yoongi takes your hand and introduces you to his mom. Just your name—no label, no context, no indication of what you are to him beyond someone who is here, present, and involved. It had been a brief, polite exchange, but you couldn’t help the twinge of awkwardness that followed, even if Yoongi’s hand stayed clasped with yours and he may have dropped a chaste kiss on top of your head before he had to go say hi to other guests. 

Your relationship—or lack thereof—still feels undefined. You haven’t had the talk with Yoongi since that kiss after the night out. You’re in this off, lukewarm state, caught somewhere between the heat of semi-flirty late-night texts and the cold hard truth that he’s been too busy to really sit down and talk. With their comeback just weeks away, his rehearsals have been relentless, and you’ve told yourself not to take it personally. You know how this goes.

But still. Seeing him now, watching him laugh softly at something Namjoon said while adjusting Haneul’s tiny party hat, a knot twists in your stomach. You just don’t know how to properly operate in this space that’s in flux.

You shake the thoughts away, willing yourself to shelf the conversation for later. It’s Haneul’s day, you remind yourself. Whatever questions you have about you and Yoongi can wait.

“Noona, these cupcakes are so good!” Jungkook calls out, holding up one with a cat face on it.

“Thank you, Kook! Can’t take credit for them though. I just got them from a pastry shop near my place.”

“Still, you’ve got good taste,” he says, licking the frosting that makes up the cat’s tail.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Yoongi, closest to the door, moves to answer it. You don’t think much of it until you hear Yoongi’s voice croak. “What are you doing here?”

Curiosity piqued, you glance toward the doorway, and that’s when you see her.

Tall, gorgeous, and impossible to miss. Lee Sung Kyung steps inside, her polished, effortless elegance making her stand out. She barely spares a glance at anyone else, her focus entirely on Yoongi.

Your stomach drops. You have a bad feeling about this.

Namjoon is at your side in an instant, his voice low. “Hey… I think we need to talk.”

“What?” you ask, forcing a smile as you pick up a napkin, pretending to tidy the already-organized table. But your eyes are glued to the scene by the entrance, at Yoongi’s clenched jaw, and Sung Kyung’s outstretched arm.

You feel a little miffed that Namjoon takes you by the elbow, voice insistent as he says, “NOW.”

"Joon," You ask, mustering all your courage, even though you are terrified of the answer. "Who is she?"

"She's Lee Sung Kyung."

Your ears are ringing and you grit your teeth as you respond, "I fucking know her name." You repeat the question, slower, a little angrier. "Who. is. she."

Namjoon hesitates, his jaw tightening before he answers. “She’s Haneul’s mom.”

Part Three >

A/N: dun dun DUN. 🙉 I need y'all in the comments! <3 How are you feeling??? Feedback is super appreciated and helps keep my motivation high ✨

I am so excited to share part 3.

Hope you all are sattt 🪑

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[ebodebo]

You and Simon had spent the better part of the morning indulging in the decadent breakfast you had prepared as the sun rose over the horizon.

He pleaded for you to stay in bed and not fuss about making him breakfast. He’d get you those bagels you loved from the shop down the road and some fresh cream cheese from the dairy to slap on top.

You leaned closer, placing a smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve it, hon,” you smiled, slipping on your cozy slippers and one of Simon’s hoodies, happily making your way into the kitchen. He couldn’t help but sink into the mattress. How did he manage to find you? A divine blessing you were.

You thought you overdid it with all the food you made. Crepes, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, all to be washed down with some fresh-pressed juice from your orange trees—far too much for just the two of you. But Simon would be damned if he left even one piece of the crispy bacon uneaten.

“Good?” you asked with a smile, fiddling with a waffle on your plate as you watched Simon demolish his food.

“Damn good, baby. Got me such a pretty chef,” he muttered, biting some egg. You flashed him a smile, tipping your head towards him as you reached for the syrup, filling every hole on your waffle.

A comfortable silence fell over both of you. The occasional ‘clank’ of silverware and the soft hum of the heater kicking on were the only noises to be heard. The doorbell sharply rang, echoing off the walls of the hallway and bleeding into the kitchen.

You sat your fork down, easing your way up before Simon shooed you back down and placed your fork back in your hand. “Eat,” he mutters as he walks to the front door.

Simon swings open the front door to be met by the postman, who is staggering with excitement as he hands Simon a loose envelope. The postman tips his head slightly, viewing you inside, standing, and placing more bacon on Simon’s plate. Simon’s hoodie hit just below the curve of your ass, and as you moved, it shifted a little higher, giving him a view of your panties.

“I suggest you stop making looks at my wife, or I’ll do more than just kill that pretty pension check,” Simon says, ripping the envelope from the postman’s hand. The guy's eyes flick to Simon’s in record time, full of worry.

“I don’t know what—” he starts, his tone defensive.

“You think I’m an idiot?“ Simon stoically says, crossing his big arms over his chest. “Huh?”

“No—I, I,” The post guy stutters.

Simon raises a brow. “Can’t speak now?” The post guy says something incoherent, and Simon breathes impatiently.

“Use your fuckin’ words,” Simon hurriedly says.

“I—I you know what, I, I, I’m gonna go,” the post guy stammers, almost falling over the porch's front steps, flalling to his mail truck, but not before shouting, “The next shipping is on me.” You bet your ass it is.

Simon clenches his teeth as he closes the door, turning to see you standing behind him. “Baby, I think you scared him,” you laugh out. Simon reaches out, grasping your hand and pulling you closer. You yelp as Simon pulls you flush with his body, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Fuckin’ animal, that one,” he mutters into your hair.

Simon never really believed in coincidences. His brain was too methodical—calculated. It was something you learned from your long history together.

So, it was odd to hear him say to the police that it must have been a coincidence that the same day he gets into a scrabble with the postman, he goes missing and is then found dead in a lake with bruises covering his body.

It was definitely a coincidence.

a/n: your honor my client didn't commit that crime! just trust me!

[novemberheart]

{overview} You and your pack navigate through your heat

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, MDNI, sexual content, mating & marking, p in v sex, multiple partners, cursing

Chapter 32 <- Chapter 33 -> Chapter 34

You weren't quite sure if you had even been so well cared for in your life. If you had- it felt minuscule compared to this.

Your alpha and betas had set up John's bedroom to accommodate you. They moved your bed into John’s room, pushing your bed with his to make one large one.

You weren't even sure if you needed the pills to spur on your heat. They were doing a good job with that already.

You could tell Kyle was livid. While he was in better physical condition- out of a sling and cast, he still wasn't cleared to lift heavy objects or do anything too strenuous. He settled for stocking the bedroom up with your favorite snacks, and drinks, while also helping you collect items around the house to build your nest with. To him, it felt small, but to you, it meant the world.

The pill looked big even in Kyle’s large hand.

“What if it doesn't work? I'm not good with heats anywa”-

“‘Nough of that, my love,” Kyle cut you off. You were perched on his good knee, his arms holding you as close to him as possible. He brushed some stray hairs away from your face. “Being a bit irregular with your heats means absolutely nothing and I wish we could get that through your pretty head,” Kyle sighed, his lips pressing against your temple in emphasis. John hummed in agreement, emerging from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. You would need all the nutrients you could get.

“He’s right, sweet girl,” John sighed. He handed you the glass, bending over the couch, his lips pecking yours. “Bloody perfect,” he mumbled. You maintained eye contact when he pulled away, the look in your eyes making him groan. “Save that for Simon.”

“I want you to mark me too,” you whined. He clenched his jaw, his knuckles white against the couch.

“Can’t say no to that, John,” Kyle begged softly, his own brown eyes pleading. “The doctor said it would be alright if you stayed with her,” Kyle reminded. “The smell of you will help. You're both their alphas,” Kyle continued, referencing you and Simon.

“He snapped at me earlier”- John began to remind.

“Because you tried to take her from me,” Simon spoke, causing you to jump. “I don't mind sharing, as long as it’s an equal give and take,” Simon kept his eyes on you as he spoke. You whined softly, shifting on Kyle’s knee. You took a deep breath and grabbed the pill from Kyle’s hand, popping it into your mouth with one fluid motion.

“Are betas invited to this?” Johnny breathed from the doorway.

That would only be fair.

You would think eight hands would be enough. Yet not one of them seemed to dull the fire in your belly.

“How ya’ doing, pet?” Simon hummed. His mouth hadn't left your shoulder, trying to find where his mark would look best on you. He made sure to avoid John’s spot, the alpha grumbling when he even came close to it. You were sprawled out on top of Kyle- a panting and whiny mess.

“I’m hot,” you whined. Johnny's hands were the first to reach you, preferring to yank at your shorts than the tank top you were wearing. Kyle chuckled beneath you, his hands moving gently up your sides, pinching the hem between his fingers.

“This alright, lovie?” he hummed softly. You nodded quickly, sitting up so you were straddling his waist.

“Go slow,” Simon groaned, his hands expanding over every inch of skin Kyle uncovered as he pulled your tank top over your head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed softly. The others had hardly any time to enjoy the sight before Simon was pushing you back against Kyle, hovering over both of you. John stopped Johnny from pressing himself between the two of you, by rolling atop the excited hound.

“Just enjoy the show,” John murmured against his heated cheek. “Yes?”

“Yes, alpha,” Johnny agreed, his eyes already narrowing on you. John rolled onto his side, Johnny's ass pressed firmly against the growing bulge in his pants. You clawed at Kyle’s shirt, the fabric tearing under your nails. You kept the torn shirt in bed, the soft fabric making decent nesting material. His warm skin still felt cold against you, your omega purring softly at the contact.

Simon's hand gripping the waistband of your shorts caught your attention. He paused, waiting for the go-ahead. You wiggled your hips in response, pushing back hoping to catch any sort of friction. He grumbled something low in his throat, pushing you back down against Kyle. He finished what Johnny had started, pulling your shorts down your legs. His hands massaged their way back up your legs, his thumbs digging into the sore flesh. His hand dipped between your legs giving your inner thigh a rough squeeze.

“My mark have to go on ‘er shoulder?” Simon hummed, bending down just enough for his teeth to graze over your bottom.

“Nobody’ll see it there,” Kyle hummed a lazy smirk across his face. His fingers ran up and down your sides, making you erupt in goosebumps.

“Cannae have that,” Johnny mumbled. Johnny's hands had twisted themselves in John's shirt to stop himself from digging into your softness. Simon's fingers brushed over your clothed heat, a small gasp escaping you. You buried your face in Kyle's neck, your thighs twitching around Simon’s hand.

“Soaked through the fabric,” He mumbled, his thumb swirling experimentally. Johnny groaned loudly, John pressing him further into the mattress. Your scent had already switched a flip in the beta's brains, their breathing syncing with yours, the room filling with soft, needy pants. You whined, your hips raising away from Kyle's, your ass high in the air. “That’s it, sweet girl,” Simon muttered. His thumb pressed down, finally giving you the pressure you were chasing. A breathy moan left your lips, Kyle's hips shifting below you at the noise.

Simon pulled his hand away.

“No,” you grumbled, your hand catching his wrist. He pulled away quickly, his hands pushing yours back down towards Kyle.

“Be a good girl,” Simon warned, his hand heading back between your thighs. Simon's finger wrapped around your panties beginning to pull them down your legs. Slow enough to torture you, but fast enough to give you hope. Kyle's hand collided with your bottom made you jolt, your shriek being cut off with a moan. His hands pressed against you, stopping the sting before it had even arrived.

“Couldn’t help it,” Kyle apologized against your ear. “Should see my bloody view,” he grumbled, his teeth catching your ear. His hands flung to your thighs, spreading them apart for Simon. The sudden movement leaves you completely exposed. Johnny ran his fingers over Kyles, his mouth watering at the way you pooled around Kyles fingers due to his strong grip.

A large hand rested on Johnny’s lower stomach, making his breath hitch. His hips instinctively rolled upwards, the tightness in his boxers bordering on painful.

“Doing so good, hound,” John murmured in his ear, his hand finally dipping below his waistband. He made no move to wrap around his cock, instead favoring scratching up Johnny’s thighs.

Simon's thumb slipped between your folds. His thumb running up and down your bundle of nerves slowly, applying more pressure than your body may have been ready for. You gasped out a moan, your hips trying to pull away. You would've succeeded had Kyle not held you in place.

“Too much,” you whined. You bit down on Kyle’s shoulder, growling against his skin.

“So sensitive,” Kyle groaned, against your cheek. He raised his head, biting you back.

“Simon,” you whimpered out. You were torn. One second you were pushing yourself back against his hand, the next moment you were trying to squirm out of Kyle’s grasp. “Kyle,” you added. The beta groaned underneath you, giving your thighs a squeeze.

“What do you want me to do, lovie?” he hummed,

“Make him slow down,” you panted, your eyes nearly in the back of your head.

“Just take what your alpha has to give you, love,” Kyle whispered against your head. Your mouth fell open at his words, the pressure in your lower stomach building at a rapid pace.

“I’m not ready to cum,” you babbled. That made Simon stop. You could feel him before you could see him, his large body draping over you and Kyle.

“Not ready?” he mumbled. His lips pressed against your heated cheek, breathing in your scent deeply. You quickly nodded your head. “How about comin’ around a cock?” he mumbled. His words affected everyone, each of them letting out a groan or a gasp. You could only manage a nod. “Words, sweet girl,” He grumbled.

“Yes, please,” you panted.

“Might know someone who could help you with that,” Simon mumbled, his scruff rubbing against your shoulder as he pulled you up by wrapping a strong arm around your middle. One of his hands rested against your stomach, your thighs shaking around Kyle’s hips. Simon's other grabbed yours, guiding them to the band of Kyle’s sweats. Kyle's breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands ran over the dark curly hair on his lower stomach, your fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. Kyle groaned as he was finally set free, the tip of his cock resting against his belly button. Your mouth fell open again. He was intimidatingly long. While he didn't match John or Johnny in girth, no spots inside you would go untouched after him.

“Kyky,” you whined, growing nervous. He shushed you gently, leaning up to hold you against his chest. Hands were on you in an instant, rubbing soothing circles against your soft skin.

“We’ll go as slow as you need to, princess,” Kyle murmured, brushing your hair away from your heated cheeks. “If you still want to,” he added, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You nodded your head. You did want to continue, you just didn't want to make a fool out of yourself.

“Slow?” you mumbled back.

“Slow,” he affirmed. You rested your head against his shoulder, your eyes meeting Johnny’s. He leaned forward, his lips capturing yours. Kyle whined when Simon wrapped a large hand around his cock, tapping his tip against your soaked folds making you gasp. Johnny let go of you, settling back against John, both men watching you for any signs of discomfort- or pleasure. Kyle's hands remained on you, keeping you grounded and soothed. Simon guided him to your entrance, precum already staining your pretty folds. He pushed in gently, both of you gasping as he pushed past your tight seal.

“Fuck,” Kyle grumbled, his lips pressing against yours to distract him from the warmth enveloping his tip. You moaned against him, your hips pushing themselves down. You don't know what you were worried about. Every inch was pure bliss as he rolled his hips against yours, slowly splitting you open. You pulled away, sitting up suddenly. The new angle giving everyone a perfect view of his throbbing cock losing itself inside you. You whined, your claws scratching against his hips, trying not to break skin. Your eyes trained between your thighs, Simon's hands holding your hips steady. You were nearly there, just a few more inches. “Fuckin’ perfect,” Kyle growled, his thumb running over your clit, using the same movement Simon had. You tightened even more around him, the action making him stop. “Open up for me baby,” he purred, taking all the power away from you as he rested his hands on your side, pushing you down further on his cock.

You were praised when you finally sunk down, your cunt nestled against his sparse curly hair.

“So deep,” you whined, your knees already beginning to give up.

“So deep,” Kyle repeated. If he wasn't so enamored with the sight before him, his eyes would be in the back of his skull. You fit him like a fucking glove, every inch and vein finding the perfect home in your suffocating heat. He couldn't stop himself anymore. He sat up, strong arms wrapping around your middle, using the leverage to pull you down against his chest, his hips rolling out of you in one fluid motion. You didn't have time to dwell on the suddenly empty feeling, because he rolled back into you making your vision go spotty. You cursed, your nails digging into his arms causing the skin to break. Neither one of you could care. You joined his rhythm quickly, the two of you panting and whining like animals. Your hands pressed against his chest, pushing his back down against the mattress, fucking yourself on his cock.

The room was silent besides the two of you, everyone too enraptured to even move.

“Just like that, lovie,” Kyled encouraged, using his hips to guide you when you lost your rhythm. You were begging now. Physically and verbally.

“Please, Ky,” you nearly sobbed. “I need”-

You cut yourself off with a moan, not able to focus on anything other than the drag of his cock against your walls. Your lower half had given out, your forehead resting against his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind though, his hips picking up right where you left off- better actually. Simon's hand rested on your stomach, slowly traveling lower like he was trying to please you without interrupting. His middle finger rolling over your clit was the final nail in your coffin.

You came hard- all of your senses shutting off. Pleasure coursing through your veins with such relentlessness you couldn't do anything but sob out.

“No, no, no,” Kyle growled as your hips tried to escape his grasp, he held you down, his own hips leaving the bed with how deep he buried himself inside you. The only thing you could feel was sudden warmth unloading itself inside you. It wasn't a knot, but it was enough to satiate the clawing urge inside you, your cunt absorbing as much as it could from him. He flopped against the bed, holding you close. He had never felt so lifeless yet alive at the same time. His own body quivered at the intense high.

You couldn't feel anything except Kyle. You couldn't quite tell where you ended and he started. Every twitch, groan, and mumble felt like it could be yours. You could feel lips against you. A pair on the back of your arms, a pair on your shoulder, and a pair on your forehead. You could instantly recognize John’s hand on your lower back, your omega purring happily deep within the chamber of your chest. His hand rested against your cheek, his thumb running under your wet eyes.

“You both did so good,” he murmured, making both of you preen. They were shocked actually, that Kyle was able to perform as well as he had, given the condition he was in just a couple of weeks ago. Simon rested against the two of you, half on his side, half draped over you.

A lazy smile etched your face when Johnny began to kiss against your jaw.

“Mac,” you mumbled. Your leg extended forward, wanting to be near him. Instead, your leg skimmed against a wet spot in his boxers. He grumbled quietly, a hazy look in his eyes. You peered down, coming in contact with the mess he had made in his boxers. Wasn't his fault John was stroking him in time with Kyle’s thrusts. You whined at the loss, pulling at his boxers, thick, white ropes staining his skin and the red fabric.

“Why’re you whining?” he questioned, teeth nipping just below your ear.

“Could’ve come in me,” you whined, looking at him through your wet lashes. He groaned, his forehead bumping against yours.

“You were a bit full at the moment, peaches,” he reminded, his lips quirking. Kyle’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “I can give ya’ more if you stop pouting,” Johnny soothed, his hand flattening over your back. “As long as it’s alright with the alphas,” Johnny smirked, rubbing his cheek against yours, coming face to face with Simon.

Simon's eyes scanned over to John like it was a decision that needed discussing.

“She needs all the prep she can get for you,” John hummed. Simon grinned like a shark. You were too high for the words to even register.

“Have at it, pup,” Simon sighed. Johnny breathed in relief, grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to spot he had previously occupied. He rested over you, peeling off his shirt, which you quickly stole out of his hands, rubbing your cheek against. He smiled down at you, kicking his boxers to the floor. He pressed your knees together, kissing each of them before hooking your legs onto his arms. You giggled, the stretch actually feeling quite nice on your achy legs.

He ran the head of his cock through your folds, Kyle's spend already beginning to seep out of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he began to bully himself inside of you.

“Steamin’ hell, you even open her up Garrick?” Johnny groaned through gritted teeth. You accepted him greedily, your walls clamping around him like a vice. Kyle was too blissed out to be mad, Simon speaking for him when his hand collided with Johnny’s ass. His hips stuttered, a not-so-surprising groan escaping his lips. If he wasn't spreading you out in all the right places you would've laughed. “Fuckin’”- Johnny cut himself off, his mouth attaching to your neck and chest, leaving teeth marks and slobber in his path. “Mine,” he growled against your ear, your head being pushed into the soft pillows. His hips were harsh, the force of it making the headboard collide with the wall. Simon's hand rested on Johnny’s neck, pulling the eager mouth away from you.

It was then he saw it. The perfect spot for his mark. It was across from where John wanted to put his. High enough on your neck where it could be seen with almost any shirt and had just enough room so the mark could be seen from behind and front. His mouth watered at the sight. Must've been why John picked a similar place.

“Don’t stop,” Simon growled against Johnny’s temple. Simon leaned over his teeth nipping at the skin. You had an immediate reaction judging by the way Johnny groaned.

“Alpha,” you gasped, your hands not being able to decide between gripping onto him or Johnny. You settled for both, throwing your head as far back as you could to allow him the space he needed.

He ran his tongue over the sensitive spot, taking a deep breath.

His fangs sunk into the skin with ease.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed! SIMON FINALLY DID IT! See you 🫵 in four days for chapter 34! 🧡

[lordprettyflackotara]

dance w the devil || ticci toby & kate the chaser

smut MINORS DNI 18+. tw: you’ve been kidnapped sorry, weed usage, choking, virgin!toby, boss bitch slightly less feral than cannon!kate, mentions of physical abuse (yk, since you’ve been kidnapped)

You sat in the cold basement, shivering as the concrete scratched against your skin. The chains bonded to your wrist rattled as you shifted uncomfortably, the blinding light of the basement door opening making you cringe. You squinted your eyes, expecting to see the familiar shapes of Masky and Hoodie. The two hell hounds that belonged to the devil, you had decided. You had enough bruises on you to justify your judgment. You were surprised to see two new visitors, ones you hadn’t seen before. One was tall and lanky, orange goggles covering his eyes and a tarnished face mask covering the rest of his face. Beside him is what you assumed to be a woman, her face covered with a similar mask to Masky’s.

Her hands were shoved into her hoodie’s pocket, while the man carried an axe slung over his shoulder. They flicked on the light switch, the light bulb being held by a string above you sparking to life. You narrowed your eyes as you examined them, the two not as in sync as Masky and Hoodie. “H-Hello there!” The man greeted, crouching down to your level. He attempted to caresses your face, causing you to instinctively try to bite him. Your body was completely restrained except for your mouth. This was done purposefully, the hell hounds hoping you’d spew whatever they wanted to know. But you didn’t know what they were talking about at all, leading you to be trapped in the dreaded basement until you spewed up whatever they were looking for. Your teeth clashed together as the man pulled his hand away, chuckling as he looked back at his partner.

“Wow s-she’s almost as f-feisty as you Kate!”

The woman now known as Kate rolled her eyes under her mask. “Shut it goggles,” She hissed. The brunette lifted up his goggles, his chocolate eyes searching yours. You weren’t quite sure what for, your heart pounding as you tried to back away. “Jesus t-they made those p-pretty tight huh?” The man asked, referring to your restraints. You slowly nodded, unsure if the truth would bite you in the ass. He reached forward, assertively grabbing your bound wrist and unlocking it. You watched the metal fall and hit the floor with a clank, your hands instantly shooting to rub your sore wrist. “My names T-Toby, but you can call m-me whatever you want,” He purred. You blinked, attempting to move further away from the brunette. Kate grabbed his shoulder, shoving his backwards. “Shut up you’re scaring her,” She barked. It was apparent to you the two weren’t too fond of one another. It made you question why they decided to come together and not alone.

“Alright i’ll cut to the chase so goggles stops trying to butter you up like a shitty piece of cornbread,” Kate spat. She crouched down to your level, sliding up her mask. If you took away the dried blood splatters and dirt that painted different parts of her face, she was quite pretty for such a feral woman. “We’ve come here with an offer we think you’ll find quite enticing,” She continued. You managed to maintain eye contact with her, her rough voice somehow soothing to you throughout the terror. “You see kid, Toby���s a little virgin with no woman experience and you can bet your sweet ass i’m not going to be a test subject,” Kate went on. You felt your eyes widened as you knew where this was going, instantly trying to use your freed hands to back away. “Nuh uh, absolutely no fuckin way,” You snapped. Toby went to intervene, Kate’s hand stopping him. It was her silent way of telling him to give her a second. “Hold that thought, let me finish,” She said. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tucked your knees to your chest.

“Toby here can just guess how to fuck a girl. But foreplay? He doesn’t know shit. You let me teach him how to make a girl cum and we’ll let you spend some time in the sunshine,” She told you. You couldn’t hide the sight of your face lighting up. “You’ll let me go outside?” You asked. Toby tried to approach you again, both of them crouched down and to your eye level. Kate cut him off before he could talk, knowing her pitch landed. “It’ll be supervised of course, but you look like you could use some vitamin D,” She clarified. The thought of seeing raw and bright sunshine filled you with joy, your feet aching to touch the grass outside. It was hard to recall the last time you had been in the suns warmth. It was a miracle the hell hounds let you use the bathroom in peace. You began to agree, the realization of your filth occurring to you. “I’m uh, not the cleanest though, I don’t know,” You answered hesitantly. Kate delivered Toby a wicked grin, one that sent a chill down your spine.

“Why don’t we get you a bath kid?”

You were hesitant to undress in front of the duo, the bathroom much cleaner than the basement. “This is mine and Jane’s personal bathroom. You’re welcome kid. The majority of the residents here are gross,” Kate said, noticing your gawking. You took that as your cue to undress, shoving your shirt over your head. Glancing at yourself in the mirror you hardly recognized yourself, having lost weight dramatically and your cheeks hollowed. Toby turned on the water, checking the temperature to ensure it was nice and warm. He couldn’t help himself from staring at you as you awkwardly stood there naked, avoiding his assertive gaze. Kate pressed up against you, her breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry kid he’s just admiring,” She cooed. Her fingertips traced over a bruise Masky had given you, the skin becoming a dark purple. “Damn, Masky got you good huh?” She muttered to herself. It was then Toby extended his hand, guiding you towards the bathtub. Kate went around him, pouring some bubble bath into the tub to create soap.

The inviting scent of vanilla flooded your nostrils, putting you slightly at ease. You swallowed as you took his hand, allowing him to guide you into the bath. You were shaky as you sat down, the waters warmth causing you to let out a relieved sigh. It was only when Kate sat on the edge of the tub the reality of the situation came crashing back down. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a lighter, fear washing over you. “Relax, this is more for you than it is for me,” Kate said casually. The familiar smell of weed clashed with the vanilla, your eyes watching her take a deep inhale. “I-Is this really n-necessary?” Toby asked. Kate rolled her eyes, handing the freshly lit joint to you as she exhaled. “Do you want her relaxed or not? You can’t make a girl cum if she’s scared of you. Unless she’s into that,” Kate replied. You tried to flick the water off of your finger tips as you took the joint with a shaky hand. “Are you into that?” Kate added, glancing at you. You nervously inhaled the joint, hoping whatever they laced it with would cause you to not remember this humiliating ritual. “N-Not on the first date no,” You sputtered, coughing as you exhaled.

Kate grinned at the sight, Toby kneeling beside the bathtub. You went to hand it back to her, causing her to shake her head. “I think you may need that. Let’s get on with it so goggles here can get his rocks off. Open your legs,” She commanded. You did as instructed, Toby eagerly shoving his hoodie sleeve up to his elbow. He used his right hand specifically, your fearful gaze not failing to notice his left was covered in bandages. You nervously inhaled the joint as Toby’s hand dipped into the water, awkwardly cupping your cunt. “Alright goggles you know where the clit is right?” Kate asked. You avoided eye contact as your face became red, the smoke leaving your lips. Toby rolled his eyes, cockily placing his thumb on your clit. “Y-Yes Kate i’ve seen p-p-porn,” He quipped. Kate glanced at you, finding your flushed face quite cute as you stiffened in the tub. “Alright genius go ahead and rub slow circles around it, get her to loosen up a bit,” She instructed. Without arguing he listened, causing you to unexpectedly whimper. Your body responded well to his touch to your surprise, your hesitation floating away with each full circle he did. “Good job, now go ahead and put a finger in there. You needa make sure she can hypothetically adjust to your size. Not that I think there’s much to worry about,” Kate guided. With his spare hand Toby playfully slapped her leg, before doing as instructed.

This time you groaned, feeling his single digit exploring your walls. “Hear that goggles? Thats what we wanna hear. Add another one,” Kate continued. You felt a slight stretch as he added in a second finger, your walls clinging to him. “Now do a scissoring motion,” Kate added, accepting the joint as you passed it to her. You could feel the drug swirling around your lungs, your body relaxing and becoming content in the tub. “A s-scissoring motion? T-that sounds fuckin s-stupid,” Toby bickered. You tried to grind your hips against the brunettes hand, your core now throbbing with desire and desperation. “Do you see how desperate she is goggles? Get with the program. Jesus, nevermind. Just curl your fingers,” Kate sighed, before inhaling the joint. You gasped as he did so, curling perfectly against your g spot. You involuntarily moaned his name, becoming even more embarrassed once you had realized what you had done. “See goggles? Thats what you’re supposed to hear. Go faster,” Kate ordered. Toby seemed to understand, his own cheeks turning pink as he curled them faster inside of you.

Your gummy walls came to life, clinging onto his slender fingers as he abused your g spot. You gripped the sides of the tub, the high only increasing the euphoria the awkward brunette was providing. He could feel his cock growing harder in his pants, tucking his bottom lip in between his teeth. Your moans bounced off the walls of the bathroom, the sound so sinful you refrained from thinking of anyone hearing it. “There we go, now she’s starting to loosen up. Keep rubbing the circles. That’ll push her over the edge,” Kate instructed, continuing to smoke the joint as she watched the pornographic scene unfold. Once Toby had the green light it made him go faster and harder, abusing your g spot with his fingers as he watched you come undone for him. Your eyes landed on his, the two of you entranced with the other as he finger fucked you. “F-feel good?” Toby asked. You licked your dry lips, forcing yourself to form a coherent sentence. “So good, please don’t stop,” You whined, his fingers relentless as he played with your cunt.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sides of the tub so hard. “You see goggles sometimes she’ll need a little extra push to cum. Let me help,” Kate offered. You watched her flick what was left of the joint aside, before her pale hand wrapped itself around your neck. You audibly gasped, your gaze flickering to her. “Nuh uh kid. Don’t look at me. Look at him while you cum on his fingers like the good little slut you are,” Kate hissed. You whined as her fingers restricted your airway, your vision seeing spots and stars as your hips grinding against Toby’s hand. You tried to obey Kate’s command, maintaining eye contact with Toby as your orgasm crashed down over you. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling and splashing the water as you came. Your thighs attempted to shut, Toby’s hand refusing to leave your cunt. Kate chuckled as she released your throat, allowing you to breathe fully. As you inhaled the duo exchanged looks before returning their gaze to you.

“You didn’t think that was it did you? Goggles needs a full lesson and that was just the start up.”

[backwzzds]

what about a sequel to the plug!zoro cheating on you w/ his girl? he broke up with her. some time goes by and zoro & y/n are at a kick back, getting a little frisky with each other and boom she just shows up.

no because you two would be at some barbecue held in franky’s massive backyard. of course the party animal had to have a pool, so you and the girls were dressed in small fitting bikinis. franky of course couldn’t keep his eyes off robin in her violet colored two piece, and nami sported an orange bikini top that was entirely too small for her tits with small shorts. yours was an olive green color working so well with your undertones, you didn’t even realized that it was damn near similar to zoro’s hair color till people pointed it out.

zoro was sitting against a beach chair with his back to the seat as he smoked on a backwood with you perched into his lap. he proudly took turns betweeen taking a pull of his weed and kissing you on the lips, the two of you sharing the routine for the last few hours.

“zoro get in the pool! it’s nice, haha!” luffy giggled excitedly. “we’re playing tag!”

zoro couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his childish best friend. “i’m good, thanks.” he gestured to his lit wood. with a look up to you, he saw you scrolling through your phone as you rested your side against his body. “y’wanna go in the pool mama?”

you shake your head. “got wet for the day already,” you reply, but do a double take when you see zoro smirk at you.

with a large hand gripping the flesh of your fatty ass, he teased, “yeah? when?”

you kissed your teeth and slapped his chest. “stop bein’ nasty you perv. ‘m finna call the cops.” zoro laughs at your threat before taking another pull of his wood.

“yeah, whatever you say, baby.”

you two end up spending the next few minutes making out, without a care in the world. zoro and your entire friend group didn’t bat an eyelash at the fact that you two were together. zoro had finally broken up with his girlfriend, but he was sure that it wasn’t the case on her end. she was delusional, worse than you.

you spend time in the boy’s arms, getting a whiff of his day old cologne and masculine musk as you two watch videos on your phone. the giggles and laughterspread amongst your friends had stopped and was replaced by numerous yells.

your own friends had joined the party just hours ago, your closest friend armani somewhere in the corner making out with nami. but when you heard armani’s familar loud voice from across the pool, that was when you grew concerned.

suddenly, a familiar figure storms their way over to your direction. “hey, you’re like trespassing on private property bro!” franky yelled as he tried to chase after the girl. within thirty seconds, zoro’s girlfriend—or as he says, ex— is in front of you.

she gives you one look before letting out a laugh. “of course. i knew you’d be fucking with her.”

zoro furrowed his eyebrows. “the fuck did you find me?”

the red girl points to her phone angrily. i fucking tracked your car and phone here!”

“ooh, damn,” you hear usopp turn and pretend to mind his business. but from his side eye and the corner of his long nose, you could tell he was still being nosy. by now, the entire party was.

“you fucking tracked me? are you insane?” zoro delicately lifts you up to place you next to him on the seat so he could properly sit up. “we’re not fucking together no more!”

“that’s not fair, zoro!” his ex cried. “you did that shit out of nowhere, i think i deserve some sort of explanation!”

standing up, you try to mediate the situation. “girl, i think y’all should step inside so no one hears—“

“i don’t owe you a fuckin’ explanation!” zoro exclaims from behind you.

“fuck you, you whore!” the girl points at you. “you’ve been fucking my boyfriend from the start, you dirty bitch!”

now you grow angry. “i’ve been fucking ‘your boyfriend’ since we were sixteen,” is all you say, knowing that would get under her skin. it was true though, zoro’s always wanted you, even before he started selling. you just never cared to give his ass the time of day mostly. “and you met him when, two years ago? please lil girl.”

zoro’s ex scoffs. “yeah okay, home wrecking whore—“

“you sure? i coulda sworn it was a section 8 apartment with the way you’re always up on niggas that’s not him!”

you wouldn’t even call your relationship with zoro homewrecking, not when you had him first and have been on and off with him since you both were teenagers. you just never anticipated that the little fling he had with the girl woulf have turned into something at the very least semi-serious. besides, you’d never fucked zoro when he was in a committed relationship with his then girlfriend at the time. out of simple respect for her, you had stepped back from him and whatever he had going on with her until he assured you that he was done with her and only wanted you.

“don’t get me started bitch before i hurt your feelings,” you threatened, giving the shorter girl a hard look.

zoro’s ex rolls her eyes. “yeah? you think he wants you when he’s coming home to me every other night?”

now you were on ten. “you gotta get a refund on that tracker baby cuz it aint telling the truth. not when the nigga live at my house. you check behind his ear lately? who name on that shit?”

color drains from the girl’s face as she watches zoro look at her with blank eyes. low and behold was your name in a beautiful script font, right behind his ear. his favorite spot he loved for you to kiss.

“you’re insane as fuck. you tried to track this nigga, trap this nigga, thinking a baby gon make him stay. he doesn’t fucking want you!” you scream. you were never this mean. but she was testing your nerves, and you had to show her you didn’t even play like that. “now you just got embarrassed. right after i told you to go inside with him on that bullshit.”

zoro’s ex makes a move to plunge towards you, but zoro successfully catches her in his strong grasp. “let me go!” the girl screams, attemtpinf to lunge at you. you mirror her actions, only to be held back by franky’s own strong grip.

“zee, take your bitch outside before i beat her ass bro!” you heathe, glaring at the girl who was matching your expression. even he couldn’t contain your anger at the moment. it was good franky was holding you back. zoro does as told and practically hauls his ex out the backyard on his shoulder. from a distance, you can see her calm down and melt into his embrace.

“that was some crazy shit,” usopp breathed out.

as if on cue, luffu exits the house with a big BBQ chicken leg in his hand, food stuffed in his mouth. “what the hell happened?”

[sugojosgf]

OFF TO THE RACES!

﹒ fem! toji , fem!naoya , fem!nanami , shoko ﹕☆ ﹟ fem · prns ㅤ࣭ ㅤׂ : ᯓ cw : tw : dark content , genderbent!jjk , prison!au , aggrēssion , dub con , mild violence ! ﹐ 🍨 series : part 1 , part 2 , part 3 more parts to be added .

you fucked up, you know it. one minute, you are getting a mani-pedi on your illegal money, the next minute you are pressed against the wall by a prison officer. how the fuck are you going to survive out here ?

the cold metal clinks together when you are shoved from the behind. clink-clank, your handcuffs echo throughout the hallway. the flicker of the fluorescent lights hurt your eyes, even threatening to make you tear up. all was enough though, you had shed enough tears for a lifetime and if this is what fate had in line for you, you were ready to brace it. 

“fuckin’ move it, bitch” the officer spits out. she was a dirty blonde and eyes a shade crazy but that wasn't the only thing dirty about her. she was cruel to you from the start. the minute you had stepped into the correctional facility, she was on your ass. 

“i'm literally moving.” you mumble under your breath. the orange jumpsuit they had you wearing was so uncomfortable you could feel the polyester rubbing against your soft skin. used to a life of luxury, the very smell of that cheap material had you suppressing gags. 

“what did you say?” and suddenly you are on the floor, face pressed against the dirty linoleum. you feel her hold your hair and pull you up. your neck aches with the strain and your eyes mist over. “listen here sweet thing, you are not going to do very well here if you think you can go off running that mouth. you understand ?” she leers at you, her teeth shining a dangerous glint.

“naoya, that's enough.” you hear her partner say. truth be told, you were even more terrified of her partner. ‘officer nanami’ you had heard someone say. she looked terrifying, beautiful yet somehow unnerving. she wore glasses that hid her disinterested eyes and her blonde hair was tied up into a neat bun. the air around her seemed to crackle. 

“i think she needs to learn a lesson about how things work around here.” officer naoya counters. “daddy's girl thinks money matters here.” she pulls you back up, your knees buckling. she presses you against the wall the next minute, towering over you. 

“i'm being really nice to you, you know that. i don't want to bruise your pretty face up too much. that being said, i won't be this lenient next time.” she lets you go and you can finally breathe again. officer nanami stares at you in silence. her eyes rake all over your body and you feel the slightest bit self-conscious. 

“she's right you know? you won't last a day in here if you talk back.” she comes closer and fixes your hair, tucking your soft locks behind your year. 

“you are here only for a year. so keep your head down and try not to get yourself into trouble. you are pretty too so the better you are at being quiet, the better the chance of you not ending up as someone's pet.”

“yes ma'am, i'm sorry.” you squeak out. your lips were bitten raw from all the stress and you weren't sure if you should risk upsetting anyone. you sniffle and suck up and let them lead you in. 

the winding hallway stops at a metal barricade beyond which you could see the cells. the rusty metallic scent infiltrates through your nose. no longer could you enjoy the smell of vanilla cashmere scented candles, only dreary despair. 

officer naoya pulls out her security pass and enters the code to open the gate. it slowly opens with a creaking echo that wakes the residents in the cells. that you know only because of the cheering and the hoots you could hear from the never ending hall. you look to your side confused, but naoya simply grins at you.

“aww, should be glad. they are throwing you a welcome party.” 

the walk in was humiliating to say the least. you could feel the eyes of a hundred women fixed on you. you could hear the obscene thoughts they were having simply by the gaze in their eyes. 

“woah! look at that pretty little thing.” you heard a gravelly voice talk in your direction. you stop and turn to look, none of your officers bothering to stop you. 

“ah, curious little kitty aren't you?” said the woman. she was tall enough to hold the top rungs of the door, fists easily twice the size of the bars. 

how the fuck was a cell that small holding her ? 

she was equally as large too, muscles ripping through her orange jumpsuit, scars running up her veiny arms. her face was near perfection, a small scar running up her lip. her jet black hair cascaded down in an unruly manner. you couldn't help but hold eye contact with her bright green eyes. 

“why don't you come closer, baby?” she calls out to you and you are almost tempted to. the quick strike against the metal with naoya’s baton brings you out of your trance.

“keep it in your pants, zenin.” naoya snickered. “you'll have all the time to be up close later.” she pushes you again forward.

“it's fushiguro now, jerk.” you hear the prisoner say but you have moved further along. 

your eyes scan through all the cells and the fear in you grows. they looked scary, like they had committed crimes you would only read about in a book. what were you doing here? no one here seemed like they were caught doing fraudulent business, no! they were different. 

“stop.” officer nanami tells you. “this is your cell.” you look into the darkly lit room and see a slender woman on the bottom bunk. 

“shoko,” she calls out, “help her settle in alright?” the woman slowly gets up while naoya opened the lock. she was beautiful, to say the least. she had long brown hair that fell to the small of her back, a cute mole adorned right under her eye. 

you walk in and officer nanami frees you from your handcuffs. you rub the sore area, skin already red and raw with friction. they leave with no regards in a locked cell with a stranger.

“hey,” she rasps out. her voice was thick with the effect of cigarettes. “what are you in for?” she gives you once over.

“fraud.” you mumble embarrassed. “what about you?”

“medical malpractice, made it a way bigger deal than it was.” 

you nod slowly, eyes big slightly with fear.

“top bunk is yours.” she points, “i'll teach you way things work around here tomorrow, don't worry too much, you'll get along well with everyone here.” 

“really?” you ask, relieved. “why of course,” she walks closer, hands squishing your cheeks together. “you are adoooorable, everyone would want a bite.”

your eyes widen in fear, but you stay put.

“get some sleep, you'll have a long day tomorrow.” she watches as you climb the bed. a sharp sting across your backside makes you whimper and turn back to look at shoko.

“you'll get along mighty well with everyone here.” she smiles with a little too much teeth.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

had an experience tonight that has just confirmed I would 100% very easily be stolen by the fae

it was almost 10pm and I was walking from my parents place to a bus stop, so through a neighbourhood I grew up in and am very familiar with

I was going to drop into a store like 10min before they close to grab a choccy milk (I am very thirsty) and I turned down a back street

down this back street is a bridge over a creek, and behind it is a hill that goes up to a playground that sits in front of some trees, I normally can't see the playground itself from this distance and angle, but I can usually see the trees

I turn down this street and in the spot that should be darkness and trees, I see bright lights and what looks like could be a whole ass building but it's too far away to make out the details

all I know is that it's very weird, very unusual, and very bright

I could ignore the lights, turn up a side street and go into the store and get my choccy milk, the night is warmer than anticipated and I am still parched, OR I could detour further down the back street and get a better look at this mystery building

I did the one I would usually be yelling at the screen for the main character of a horror movie to not do

by the time I got decently close to the bridge I could tell that yes it was a building, yes it was definitely where the playground should be, and it was still very very bright

I thought maybe they were doing construction work and had put up some fencing, or it was one of those work trailers they set up on sites

but no, it still looked like a building, a whole ass flat roofed white building, covered in several orange doors?? (I think I counted five or six), each with a long strip of light above them

I cannot overestimate how bright these lights are, look at this fuckin' thing

I couldn't go any further because I was out of time and had to double back to catch my bus, but if it weren't for that I'd have gone all the way over to investigate

so yeah all those folk stories about people being foolishly lured in by strange lights even in woods they know and they're inevitably taken by fae?

I get it now

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ YOUR PERFECT KISSES, HOLD ME SOFTLY — early morning cuddles with your boyfriends!

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish

warnings. sfw, fem!reader, polyamory, kissing, non-sexual touching, soapghost, pre-established relationship

The morning sun filters in through the pale curtains of the window, brushing the three of you in strokes of soft oranges and yellows.

Ghost's arm is heavy around your waist, his chest pressed tightly to your back where you lay. He acts like a heated, comfortable anchor for your usually restless sleeps.

The smell of warm vanilla and musk is a familiar and safe one, Soap's head resting where your neck meets your shoulder. His leg is hooked over your hip, over Ghost's, too. He was always a koala when he slept, needing your touch, desperate for the feel of your bodies draped over his own.

"Go back to sleep," Ghost's gravelly voice murmurs next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His normal voice was a punch to the gut, but the tone, the depth of it when he had just woken up?

It makes your heart skip a beat, your breath come out just the slightest bit harsher.

You turn, just slightly, gently opening one of your eyes to look at Ghost. His deep brown eyes are half-closed with sleep, just the slightest bit glassy.

"Morning," you whisper, brushing your lips against the morning scruff of his chin, then moving up to plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His arm tightens around your torso, pulling you just the slightest bit closer, like a possessive cat with its milk. "Mornin' Princess," he responds with the slightest quirk to his lips.

Soap murmurs in his sleep, eyebrows scrunching the lightest bit as he presses closer into you, head burrowing even further into your neck.

When your gaze drifts back to Ghost, you find his adoring gaze focused on the man in your arms, before it returns to you. The emotion in them doesn't change. Not in the slightest.

"Pretty," he says, like it's an admonishment. The word settles in your mind, the way he says it, the weight of the syllables on his tongue, all kept as a memory to look back on in years to come. "My pretty girl."

You nod, gently, as not to stir Soap still asleep in your arms. "Yours, Simon. All yours."

He presses the kindest of kisses to your forehead, so delicate in comparison to the harm you know that the man can cause. The deaths on his hands, the thrill of it in his bones.

And yet.

Here, Ghost is, cradling his lovers like they're the most precious of cargos. Ghost. Legend of the military. The man with the mask that sparks recognition and fear in the soldiers unlucky enough to cross his path.

The Ghost.

And he was yours. Just as much as he was Soap's -- Johnny's --but yours, nonetheless.

"Thinkin' so loud," that memorable scottish lilt huffs, but there's no hostility in the words. With a soft bite at your neck, Soap leans back with a soft groan, looking at the both of you. "Good fuckin' mornin' to me, aye?"

You huff out a breath of a laugh, and Soap's mouth twists into an easy smirk, movements lethargic and slow.

Grabbing your chin with large, roughened hands, he tilts your face to slot against his own, deepening the kiss almost immediately. His tongue slides against your own, lazy in its strokes.

"Gross," Ghost mutters, with a half-assed roll of his eyes. "Mornin' breath. Brush your teeth."

You giggle against Soap's lips, and when you pull away, he bites at your bottom lip and plants a couple quick presses against your mouth before pulling away. His smirk only deepens, the light in his blue eyes dancing with half-awake joy.

"Jealous, Lt?" Soap taunts, without the usual teasing bite. You supposed that even he had to awake before the real energy began.

"Told you to stop callin' me that after hours," Ghost grumbles with a furrow of his brows. "'Nd no, 'm not. Just mindful of my hygiene."

You hum, melting between the two large men, fully ready for them to converse while you didn't have to think for a single moment. Ready to just live in the space between the two who held your deepest adorations.

The dream is short lived, however.

"C'mon, gorgeous," Soap goads, "Let's make sure we're all perfect for our boy."

[wormdebut]

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

@hellion-child you did this. Inspired by this legendary post.

‘It’s not illegal to go to the dog park, just to hear hot dads say Good Girl.’

Rating: M CW: overusage of the term daddy and Eddie just being a horny bastard.

——

“You know, this is fucking insane, right?” Chrissy laughs while Eddie lounges on the park bench.

Yes. He’s aware.

He and Chrissy don’t even have a dog and yet—

“Chris. Look at all of these great pet parents, taking care of these little doggies. Look at em. Wonderful. Stunning, very normal.”

Chrissy levels him with a glare. Being on the wrong side of a Chrissy glare is a scary thing, but alas his dog park visits are worth it.

“No. Look, listen. You’ve got all of these doggy daddies taking their lovely pups out for runs and walks and what not and then daddy wraps up his run and takes the precious ones to this here dog park. Woof.”

It really was worth it to Eddie, alright? There is nothing wrong with going to a public dog park to maybe hear a hot sweaty man coo at his dog.

‘Good Boy’

‘Precious Girl’

Bark bark bark or whatever.

Would Eddie ever talk to any of them? Absolutely the fuck not, but a man could dream.

He was bummed though because none of the hot guys were out, today.

Damn.

He is busy scanning the area to see if he missed anyone, Chrissy yapping on and on about how they could just get a dog when someone slows their run to chat.

“Hi!” She says. This woman is tall, short hair messed up from running, she’s got a bright ass orange jacket on, and she is most certainly Chrissy’s type. Thats not fucking fair at all, now is it?

Chrissy’s complaining tapers off. “Hey.”

They smile at each other, and this is truly unfair, Eddie thinks. This whole dog park thing was for him and yet.

“I hope you don’t mind, but me and my best friend just moved to the area and honestly, I think you’re pretty so—I just thought I would say hi.” She hardly makes eye contact with Eddie. So it’s clear who she’s talking to.

Like recognizes like, he supposes.

He can respect the straight forwardness of it all. Chrissy is just kinda staring at her so he speaks up. “Well, I’m Eddie and this is Chrissy, and I can confidently say that she also thinks you’re pretty.”

Both woman turn to stare and him, Chrissy with big eyes and the other woman with a smirk. She speaks, “Well, it must be my lucky day.” She turns back to Chrissy, “I’m Robin.”

The two get talking and Eddie is happy for his best friend, he really is, but where are all the hot men?

He’s about ready to call it quits when he sees a fucking god, running with a ridiculously stunning dog.

Hot people own hot dogs, he supposes.

This guy is—fuck. He’s sweaty from running, and his hair is fucking gorgeous, even after activities. Thats a green flag. Eddie is just shocked.

This is the dog daddy of all dog daddies. He’s wearing tiny fucking red shorts that expose thighs for days and—

“Jesus fuckin’—see?” Eddie doesn’t even care that he is interrupting the girls conversation cause this guys is—god damn. “He could slap a collar on me and walk me like a dog.”

Chrissy balks. “Eddie. We are in the company of a new friend. Robin doesn’t deserves this.”

Eddie simply shrugs and Robin laughs, “No. I think it’s hilarious which guy caught your eye?”

Oh, he likes Robin. “I like her. Get her number—“ He smiles big at Chrissy, before gesturing towards the fucking Adonis in tiny little running shorts. “Anywhozle. That one, look at him. On my knees in a second.”

He ignores Chrissy’s eye roll, and watches as Robin takes in the guy, before busting out in a laugh. “Oh my god—Steve?”

Oh shit.

“I—do you—“ Abort mission. Abort abort.

“Oh yeah, remember that best friend I was telling you guys about?”

She is still laughing, and Chrissy joins her before handing Robin her phone.

Eddie feels like he just got bamboozled.

“Chrissy, babe, I’ll text you. Eddie? I’ll see what I can do.” She smiles at them both before running over to ‘Steve’ and his—their?— gorgeous dog.

“No wait I—“ Eddie tries but she’s already over with Steve who is listening intently to what Robin has to say.

Oh god, oh no. Oh god.

Chrissy is just laughing softly into her hand, which turns into full laughter quick because Steve turns to look at them, smiles and winks.

[charnelhouse]

Thinking of ghost as a dad makes me think of red taking her toddler son shopping for Halloween decorations and seeing a skeleton and the sweet boy is pointing and bouncing up and down like “it’s dada!”

A/N: Ghost x F!Reader (Red Fox). Pure fluff. This ask made me curl up with joy.

She’s a little late. Only ten minutes and it could be anything: traffic, an additional errand, a parking lot shoot-out. Simon’s fingers twitch as his cell phone sits on the coffee table.

It’s only ten minutes.

Ten. Minutes.

He’d lost her in Ecuador for four fucking days, and she’d been fine. Well, relatively fine. Alive.

She can survive anything. He knows this. He feels this. But he cannot shake the belief that one day, his past will catch up to him and take her away. 

Don’t be a fuckhead, Simon. If it’s anyone’s past, it’s going to be mine. 

That makes me feel better, duchess. 

We’re sharing the burden, babe. Lucky for this kid, he’s got two spec ops, hot-ass parents. 

Yah really love a finger gun, don’t you? 

It’s called levity, dude. You’re too damn broody. 

“Don’t call her.”

Simon startles before side-eyeing Johnny, who is spread out on the far end of the couch. “I wasn’t gonna,” he growls defensively. 

“You’re staring at that phone like it’s a bomb.”

“She’s late.”

“She’s running errands with your enormous toddler. Yah know how hard it is to lift that kid? Try wrestling him into a car seat. Took me half an hour.”

Simon scowls. “Of course, I know. I do raise him.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “He takes after me.”

“Yeah, my enormous son is definitely your kid, tiny.”

“I’m six fuckin’ feet. Thank yah very much.”

“You’re still here?” 

Simon twists around to see Red standing in the doorway. She’s got their son on her hip and an orange plastic bag in her other hand. She leaves him breathless. Her skin dewy, her hair falling in her face. Stunning in a way that burns him. He still wants to shove her over a table and wreck her, but that desire is now weighted with something far more tender. She’s carried his baby.

He knew she’d be a good mother, but he didn’t expect her to excel at it so...perfectly. She can handle a tantrum and peel a man’s skin off.  She can silence him with a look.

“Simon said I could stay for dinner,” Johnny declares.

“I did not,” Simon refutes as he stands, rolling his shoulders. Their son’s tiny lips peel apart into a toothy grin, he claps his chubby hands together. 

“Dada,” he squeals as he opens his arms. 

Ghost smiles back, unable to blunt the joy that unfurls in his chest. Sometimes it’s all too much. 

“He got you something,” Red says as she places him on the floor. When she straightens, she presses her hand to her lower back. “Jesus - that kid is heavy. Remind me to stop having your babies.”

“Uhuh,” Ghost says dutifully. “Of course.”

She’d threatened to leave him a thousand times when she was giving birth. Their son’s head had not been easy to deliver. 

Red pulls something from her bag and hands it to their son, who waddles toward him. Simon crouches and sweeps him up in his arms. The boy squeals again delighted. 

“What have you got there?” he asks as he nuzzles his nose into the down of his son’s head, the soft velvet curls. He smells like Red’s perfume.

“Dada!” he giggles as he lifts a plastic skeleton. Soap barks with laughter. 

“He saw it in the store and lost it,” Red says as she walks toward them, placing a hand on the boy’s back. He shakes the skeleton before hugging it close. “Kept calling it dada. Got a lot of weird looks.” She cocks her head, her tongue darting over her lower lip. “I just wanted everyone to know that I’m getting it from a really hot skeleton.”

“Yah got a filthy head, Foxy.”

“You don’t even live here, Johnny.”

“Dada,” his son murmurs as he burrows his face into Simon’s throat. The skeleton is clutched against his chest, and he feels the boy relax, his damp, milky breath puffing against him as he nods off. 

Simon clears his throat, blinking a few times. There’s a raw snag of emotion in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow. Simon tries to pull the skeleton from the boy’s hands to look at it, but his son yanks it closer. 

“Typical,” Red remarks, her lips quirking in amusement. 

“What is?” Simon smirks because he already knows.

“Do you know how hard it is to shake you off when you’re asleep? It’s like being spooned by a bull slash octopus.”

“It’s true,” Johnny interjects in an empathetic tone. “Remember Siberia?”

“That was a life and death situation!” Simon snaps. “Sub-zero temperatures.”

Red’s eyes widen, her expression intrigued. “Give me the details, Johnny, and I’ll make you dinner.”