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[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

because i liked a boy - spencer reid x fem!reader

somehow a reporter finds out about reader's relationship with none other than her coworker, dr spencer reid and shames her for it during a press conference

genre: flangst wc: 1355 warnings: medialiaison!reader established relationship, slut-shaming, feminism talk, upset spencer, morgan mention, mentioned case involving children

"This is a rough composite sketch of the UnSub. If anyone sees him, please call us using the number on the screen. Any questions?" you speak clearly, eyebrows raised and back straight.

It's a tough case this time, not that any are easy. The ones involving children–like this one–are the worst. You know that. It’s yet to hit you this hard, though. You're used to being in front of a camera all fake smiles and airbrushed to look porcelain but you're struggling to hold it together today. It’s never been easy to see grieving parents begging for their kid’s life on national television.

It also doesn't help that you haven't seen Spencer much these past two days. Ever since HR found out about you two, he’s been trying to keep his distance for professionalism’s sake. You appreciate it, of course, but you wish everything could be normal again. You miss working alongside him, sneaking tiny waist pinches every little while. Maybe you’re codependent.

One of the male reporters holding a microphone asks plainly, like it isn’t rude, “how do you expect this case to go to trial with your ongoing relationship within your team? Isn’t that some sort of conflict of interest?”

Now, how did they find out about that?

Luckily, Hotch steps in before you need to form a response. You’re left flushed and out of sorts, needing some water or something. It’s not like you’ve never had a bad press experience but nothing that came after you specifically. Why do they even care in the first place? Are you really that interesting? Is your love life really that interesting? His mustn’t be.

To Hotch, he spits, “it’s a valid question, Agent, you can’t expect no one to comment on one of your unit’s members sleeping her way to the top or… sleeping her way to getting a case dismissed.”

You want to stay, fight, cry, maybe even guilt him into apologizing, but, to your dismay, you’re pulled away by Morgan who looks just as upset as you do. If there weren’t a room full of people stopping him, you’re sure he would’ve hurt the guy. You don’t want to be dragged away by the action figure that is Derek Morgan so you try to pour your feelings into words. “The conference– the case–!”

Morgan stares at you in a way that very clearly says are you done? And, yes, you guess you are. You sigh, nodding reluctantly.

“Hotch will figure it out,” he assures softly but firmly.

You’re escorted to the break room where you watch the television only to see that very same reporter, spewing his nonsense again. Low and behold, he’s still stuck on the topic of you.

“An anonymous source discloses the identities of two FBI agents with the Behavioural Analysis Unit that are in a relationship of hidden rendezvous.”

The pitter-patter of your heart is louder than usual as he reads out your names along with the loving message, “I guess this proves that women really can’t be trained. What a shame, she’s certainly got–”

With that, you shut off the disgusting noises coming from someone claiming to be a man. You’ve never been good at taking insults but this was something else entirely. Your chest burns. You’re being perceived as a person you’re not. Everything you’ve tried so hard to build could all come crashing down at this very moment if you let it.

All because you liked a boy?

It feels ridiculous, like a step in the wrong direction for all womankind. That’s dramatic, you’re sure, but this is so twenty years ago. What happened to feminism, for fuck’s sakes? You wouldn’t give Spencer up for anything less than solving world hunger, but you wish this whole ordeal could’ve never happened. What if you lose your job? What if you lose this case because you’re too sensitive to male attention for your own good? Unfortunate circumstances led here and you wish it could be simple. It’s a tall order, but you wish UnSubs and all the people who enjoy pinning others down would simply cease to exist. You wish Spencer was here.

As if reading you all the way from canvassing the neighborhood, he’s suddenly visible, walking towards the doorway with quick Converse-sounding steps, Morgan’s hand on his shoulder. He looks worried. What worries you, though, is that he looks guilty. That hurts.

Familiar arms wrap around you as he kneels on the floor in front of the couch. “Hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?” Spencer whispers, lips pressed into the fabric covering your shoulder.

You ponder the question for a moment before nodding. You’re not quite sure how you feel, if you’re being completely truthful. Criticism was never something you’ve taken well. Not ever. Maybe you deserve it, though. After all, you are sleeping with a coworker. You’re an agent, it’s not appropriate of you in the least. You should’ve kept to yourself, been the good girl the world wanted you to be. Female agents in the big bad FBI are already seen a certain way. You just happened to worsen it with wide-eyed affection.

How he always does, he mutters an explanation, “people like that don’t have anything going for them, you know. They report on others because their own life is insignificant.”

It’s wildly the wrong time to laugh but you do, flushed cheeks plumping from a happy smile. He pulls away and your hands find his face like they always seem to do. “I know.”

He nods. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

He’s so unbelievably pretty that it almost makes you want to cry. Those same somber eyes that you’re sure mirror yours stare deep.

“It just sucks… you know?” you say so very quietly.

Nodding, he chews on his lip. “I know.”

“It’s like… I thought slut-shaming was over,” you laugh bitterly.

You can tell he feels bad. It’s not like this is his fault. You know he believes it is, anyways.

“It should be. It’s ridiculous. This isn’t your fault. That useless guy should be spending the night in a cell for harassing an agent not on the ten o’clock news airing out our personal matters.”

It’s really not often you see him like this, upset and wielding pain-filled threats. It never fails to amuse you. You’re not sure why. Something about the juxtaposition of his usual sweet demeanor and this annoyed ranting one, you suppose.

“It’s kind of funny.”

“Funny?”

You smile and nod, your thumb tracing his lower lip. “A little. We’re the most enthralling news in all of small-town-Colorado.”

While Spencer doesn’t find it quite as giggle-inducing, he mimics the pull of your mouth’s corners and shows his reluctant agreement with a bob of his head. “That is… silly, I guess.”

“We’re basically stars,” you shrug.

In honest disbelief and certainly awe for your ability to brush off the event with humour, he shakes his head, curls falling out of place. Your fingers rush to correct it. The golden eyes you love stay stubbornly put on your own. Breaths mix together in the close proximity despite you not recalling how you got so close. It’s proven difficult to care when his plush lips find yours. Carefully and with love, he kisses you. With no intent, no desire other than to make you feel better. It breaks stickily, the shimmer that once was on your lips now ghosting around his mouth. You grin.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer tenderly mutters.

Gently, you answer, “I’m sure. I mean, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

You believe yourself. You’d never doubt your relationship with Spencer. It just sucks that they had to poke holes in your safe place. That safe place being Spencer. Your home. You know because of your profiler-by-association background that he was right about the reporter being not fulfilled enough in his own life that he had to insert himself into yours. That didn’t make it drastically better, anyway. Perhaps your personal life should be kept away from work.

But it’s not your fault that work happens to include Dr. Spencer Reid.

[kashverse]

hear me out, papakuna totally distraught about babykuna's first bday because he wants it to be absolutely perfect

sukuna has planned a lot of things in his life.

how to build his own company from the ground up? check. how to propose to you the moment he realized he was utterly, stupidly in love with you? check. how to plan an obscenely extravagant wedding despite you telling him no, we don’t need a horse-drawn carriage, suku, this is not a fairytale— check. but none of those compare to the sheer anxiety that consumes him when planning babykuna’s first birthday.

yes, that’s right. one whole year since you made him the happiest man on earth for the second time. (the first was when you agreed to be his wife. the second was when you gave him a mini-you.)

so naturally, this needs to be perfect. spectacular. a grand event to set the standard for all birthdays to come.

you watch from the couch, nursing a cup of tea, as your six-foot-something, terrifying, king-of-the-corporate-world husband paces the room with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand gripping his hair like he’s planning the olympics.

"i don’t give a shit if there are scheduling issues, uraume, i need those ponies on saturday."

ponies. there are ponies at stake now.

"yeah? and tell the bakery i want the cake to be exactly like the reference. if i see even one ugly sprinkle, someone’s getting fired."

he hangs up with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples.

"baby, 'm this close to snapping someone’s neck."

"you mean over the birthday party that she won't even remember?" you ask, mildly amused. sukuna scoffs like you just committed blasphemy. "the disrespect. our daughter deserves the best."

you glance over at the soon to-be birthday girl herself, currently drooling on her own fist in her bouncer, blissfully unaware of her father’s slow descent into madness. "you’re stressing yourself out over nothing," you hum, sipping your tea.

"oh, yeah? and when she looks back at pictures of this day, do you want her to see a half-assed party?"

you raise a brow. "she’s literally chewing her foot right now."

sukuna turns to babykuna, who is, in fact, gnawing on her chubby little foot like a deranged gremlin. "she’s too young to understand stress," he grumbles, kneeling down to scoop her up. she gurgles in response, smacking her drooly little hands against his expensive-ass shirt. "yeah, that’s great, sweetheart," he mutters, gently wiping her mouth before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

she promptly spits up on his sleeve.

"...right. thanks."

you giggle. "maybe you should focus less on ponies and cake sprinkles and more on surviving fatherhood."

"shut up," he grumbles, shaking his drool-covered sleeve. you shake your head, smiling.

"but honestly, baby, you’re doing so much for her. she might not remember it, but we will. and when she’s older, she’ll see how much her dad loves her." he huffs, but you see the way his shoulders relax at your words.

"...whatever. still getting the ponies."

the day of the party, and babykuna is having the time of her tiny little life.

the ponies? a hit. the cake? bigger than her. the decorations? over-the-top. your husband? going absolutely feral over making sure the event is flawless.

"what the fuck is this?!" sukuna growls, glaring at the table.

choso, bless his ignorant soul, stares at the bowl of m&ms he just put down. "uh… candy?"

"these are the wrong colors."

"i—"

"WHERE'S THE BABY PINK? WHERE'S THE WHITE? DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING CIRCUS PERFORMER?!"

choso, looking genuinely scared for his life, quickly scoops up the bowl.

"i’ll—i’ll fix it!!"

meanwhile, babykuna, in her tiny pink party dress, is sitting directly on top of her smash cake, hands covered in icing, face lit up with pure joy as she happily smacks the dessert into oblivion. a photographer snaps a picture at the perfect moment—babykuna, mid-splatter, frosting in her hair, grin wide enough to make your heart burst. you lean into sukuna’s side, watching your daughter go feral.

"see? worth it." you murmur. he sighs, watching babykuna destroy the thing he spent weeks planning.

"...yeah. worth it."

[inbabylontheywept]

go to the caverns, the kartchner caverns, roughly an hour southeast of tucson

in the throne room you shall encounter the great yuan

you must fight him, for it is your destiny

cross the fields of soda-straws and fried-eggs and shields. unleash your fury upon him. there will be those who try to hold you back. they will speak gibberish about your disruption of the delicate balance of the great yuan's domain. you must pay them no heed. you must destroy the great yuan.

we depend on you.

The first time I traveled to Tucson I was in a car full of zooted children. I would've preferred being one of those children, but alas, any medication that makes me sleep also makes me sleepwalk, and after an incident where I tried to climb out of the car while it was still going sixty (thank God for seatbelts) I was condemned to a childhood of car trip sobriety.

(You may think that's not such a terrible fate, but you've probably never experienced anything else. Ambien, used correctly, is time travel. And time travel is awesome.) 

Still, involuntary consciousness had its perks. It meant I alone got to spend some extra quality time with my dad, which was always something in short supply growing up. Until third grade or so he worked in the ER, which gave him an absolutely hellish amount of hours. He'd mostly just come home and sleep, which meant that I personally did not know him that well, but my mom hyped him up so much that I always really wanted to. 

So days like that were always kind of exciting to me. A chance to meet the myth. 

I can't remember exactly what me and my dad were talking about - something to do with our final destination in Mexico. But at some point, we awoke my little brother. 

(Waking people up when they're on ambien is always trouble.)

I remember starting when I felt one of his small cold hands reach up to grab my shoulder. The dad did the same, and it jerked the car a little bit - startling someone whose hands are on the steering wheel has its risks. We both turned to look at him, but he wasn't even looking at us. He was leaning over the console, staring into the red and purple sunset ahead, watching the rolling skyline of Tucson like it was drowning in dreams. Like he was drowning in dreams. 

We waited for him to speak. It took a while. Normal social conventions don't apply to people when they're unconscious. The fact that he could talk was just some broken line code in the fabric of the world. 

"Wow," he said at long last. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" my dad replied. And my little brother shook his head like he just heard the silliest thing in the world. 

"It's terrible," he said."Awful. Is Mexico always like this?" 

"We're still in America" my dad said back. 

My little brother squinted into the sunset, doubt and derision etched into his face. After a few seconds, both emotions softened, and he nodded in wonder. 

"Eagle feathers," he said, chuckling softly. Like he'd just solved some clever little riddle. Then he fell like an angel into something deeper than sleep. 

---

(There is a word for angels that fall.)

---

The second time I went to Tucson, I hid from the sun. 

You'd be surprised how easy it is to do down there. Society accommodates it in ways you just won't find anywhere else. When it's 109 outside with single digit humidity, of course you stay indoors. Of course the outdoor markets open at 6 pm, and of course they don't close until 11. Of course. You make the sun mean enough, and everyone becomes a vampire. 

So I roamed the streets at night, kicking up red gravel, watching coyotes wander in between the sea of strip malls. Strip malls are such an Arizonan atrocity. Nobody builds up. The reason the city isn't walkable isn't sidewalks. It's the sun. And you can't solve the sun, so you might as well lean into driving. Mash the whole city flat and crawl through the dust like rattlers. 

(I met a man once, by the canals, that said the strip malls were some sort of American curse for our ancestors including Johnny Appleseed. There's one God in this world, he said, and it's the god of don't-eat-apples. But then we invented apple pie and gave it to everyone. So this is our hell.)

Still. It made the days long down there. Lurking at night and hiding all day gives you something like cabin fever. I needed something to do outside. Something that was outside, but also, somehow, inside. What's inside and outside at the same time? What kind of klein-flask ouroboros nonsense fits that bill?

Kartchner caverns. 

---

I wouldn't say the caves were like walking into Dante's hell - more like finishing the journey. At some point in my life, I'd blown past limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, and anger. I'd spent two decades plus change living in the fires of heresy. Every layer past would only get colder. 

And each step into that cave did. 

My tour guide and metaphorical psychopomp guide was a friendly old man. Familiar in the way that all old people feel familiar to me. I view the world more as a pile of metaphors. He viewed it primarily as water-soluble minerals. 

It was a good work dynamic. 

"These here," he said, gesturing to a long, slender series of impossibly frail stalactites, "are called soda straws."

"Hot damn," I said, and he nodded good naturedly. 

"They're pretty fun aren't they?"

I wasn't sure if fun was the word that made the most sense for it. But I was charmed, and we went further, and he pointed out more formations. 

"Behold!" he said. "Fried eggs!" 

And there were fried eggs. 

"Behold!" he said. "A shield!"

And lo, there was a shield. 

We kept walking, deeper, and deeper into the cave. At the surface, it had been hot enough for my sweat to dry into a stinging white powder. Down here it was cold enough to see my breath. The feeling of descending into hell was replaced with the feeling of being swallowed by some ancient, fossilized serpent. 

And then that began to show up in the formations. 

"We call this serpent-stone," he said, gesturing to an expanse of wall. 

And all I could see was the snake that was swallowing me. 

I don't know why or how that broke the spell. But it did. I'd been walking for hours in the dark, following that man. I'd recognized him many times. It just took that moment for that recognition to be allowed. 

"I've met you before," I said. "I met you on the canals once. Johnny Appleseed." 

He looked at me, and I saw what my little brother saw that first time. Something trapped here, in the dark. A feathered serpent ten miles long. Dead and alive, the same way my brother was dreaming but awake. The first apple-eater. Something more afraid of the sun than I was. 

"You are so close," he said. "It's only a few miles further." 

"Close to what?" I said, and he grinned teeth too sharp for a human mouth. 

"To being like us," he said. "To sleepwalking forever." 

Nothing good comes from waking the dreamer once they're asleep. At best, the dream ends. At worst, it doesn't. 

Running away would've required turning my back on it, and I knew - I knew - that my vision was the only thing locking it in place. I made it real by looking. I made it real by seeing. As long as my eyes were open, it was my dream. 

So I did not run. 

I grabbed the man. I looked him in the eyes, and my hands wrapped around his neck, and he fought like a beast. His teeth flashed as somewhere just out of reach, the flashright rolled, and his tongue stuck out, forked like a snakes, and where a normal man would've turned redder, and redder, and redder, he turned greener, and greener and greener. His neck narrowed and he stretched and wound and twisted until the hands beating against my arms were wings, and the man was a snake and I did not blink once until it stopped moving. Then, and only then, did I take my eyes off the thing and run, shivering, back to the light. 

---

I hadn't seen it before. But the cave was a dead thing. Inert. Like the sloughed off skins I'd find on hikes. A memory of something scary, but not the thing itself. I thought I'd be safe when I made it to the top. But the first thing I saw when I stepped into the light, the first thing I saw looking across the long, flat run of desert - was the other half of what I saw in the caves. 

I'd killed the body. But I hadn't killed the soul. That still danced in the sky. The dead part of quetzalcoatl lay in the dark, dreaming it was alive. And the living part flew in the sky, burning and bright and deadly. A fire unending. 

The month after that, I moved to Utah. And I've never looked back. 

[mameillieureennemie]

i decided on angst. 😞

fwb!vi x reader

summary: you and vi are friends with benefits. so why does it feel more than that now?

the sun sets low, dipping behind the horizon and colouring the world in warm hues. it throws oranges through the window, made into stripes by partially opened blinds, and it's all so...peaceful.

simple.

you stare out the window at the city beyond, take in the skyline as it slowly starts to shimmer. it's coming alive; just in time to greet those who favour the night's darkness. you wonder if you could be drawn out; your friends have been dying to take you to a classy restaurant downtown.

all dressed up in glittery dresses, sloping silhouettes, and too-high heels reveal pain-tinged regret far too late.

still, you could be tempted.

but.

"you okay, sweetness?" vi says from behind, her arms finding their home around your waist. she pulls you in until no space can possibly exist between your back and her chest. her chin hooks over your shoulder, perfectly like a puzzle piece, and it really makes you think.

"i'm fine," you assure her, resting your hands over hers, because you are fine. better than you've felt in days, perhaps. you can't really pinpoint why, but deep down, you know. you're just unsure if you want to accept the reason. "i was thinking about going out tonight. there's this new restaurant my friends want us to try. very fancy; pretty sure you need a reservation."

"aren't you friends with mel medara and caitlyn kiramman?" vi teases, and you can't help but laugh. you see what she's aiming for, and of course, you'd never have to make a reservation for anywhere high brow in the city.

"your point?" you ask, just because you can, and yelp when vi nips at your neck's curve. "hey—!"

vi shushes you. "easy, princess," she murmurs, and you fall at ease. only because you want to. not because vi's voice can command you to do almost anything, especially when it's still a little sleep-heavy, a little hoarse around the edges. "if you want to go out, we can. i was kinda thinking we'd stay in. order some food and watch something funny."

you try not to focus on how vi said we instead of you. you try not to focus on how that made your heart skip.

you keep your eyes on the darkening skyline, noting how the lights in the buildings shine like stars. your throat feels dry; it almost hurts to swallow. there's so much running through your mind right now, so much that makes you want to turn around and go:

this isn't a part of the deal.

this isn't supposed to happen.

all of this is dangerously verging into a—

"i'd like that," you say quietly, already dooming your heart to a tragic end. you take bitter solace in the smile vi presses into your skin, it almost makes you feel sick. but you don't pull away when she turns you in her arms. you don't draw back when she leans in to kiss you.

you don't place a hand on her chest and say what you should say.

we agreed this wouldn't be more than sex.

but vi's mouth is the sweetest nectar you've tasted, highly addictive and forever on your lips. she draws you in until you're back on the bed, underneath her as you surrender to her touch.

the skyline's fully alight by the time you're both sat on the couch, watching some sitcom. you're freshly showered, curled up together with forks digging into take-out cartons.

vi laughs loudly at something on the screen, eyes closed and mouth wide. she's got some sauce at the corner of her mouth, and she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen and...

no.

you can't do this.

[bbdeongi]

After concert smut w seonghwa !! 👀

A MEMORABLE NIGHT

☆PAIRING: Matz x Fem!reader

☆GENRE: smut, a little fluff at the end.

☆WARNINGS: idols x reader, hotel sex, unprotected sex (do not do!), eating out, fingering, pet names, praising.

☆SUMMARY: You had finally got the chance to go to see Ateez.. but throughout the concert, you kept catching Hongjoong and Seonghwa stealing glances at you. You thought it was just your imagination—until you met them backstage after the show. Before you knew it, you were heading to their hotel, unsure of what the night had in store

☆A/N: I changed it to both seonghwa and hongjoong x reader 🤧 It was okay with my friend so don't worry.

5.9k words

The atmosphere was electric as you joined the crowd of Atiny's gathered at the arena. The excitement was palpable, and you could feel the energy coursing through the crowd, a wave of anticipation that made your heart race. Tonight was not just another concert; it was a celebration of everything Ateez had accomplished, and you were here to experience it all. For the first time.

As you found your spot in the crowd, on the floor, the chatter around you swelled with enthusiasm. Friends were hugging, fans were holding up signs, and excitement filled the air. You took a deep breath, letting the energy of the arena wash over you. You were surrounded by people who shared your love for Ateez, and in that moment, you felt a sense of belonging.

When the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the crowd. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest, anticipation building with each passing second. Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, the stage erupted in a display of lights and sound, and the members made their grand entrance. The crowd roared, and you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins. This was it—the moment you had been waiting for.

As the first song began, "Crazy Form", you lost yourself in the rhythm, your body moving instinctively to the beat. The music enveloped you, and you sang along with the thousands of fans around you. You and a bunch of other people were screaming your heart out to every single song.

But it wasn’t until Matz—Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s sub-unit, took the stage that the world around you began to blur. They were magnetic, their charms drawing you in like some type of spell. Of course those two were your biases. Seonghwa’s ethereal beauty and smooth vocals captivated you, while Hongjoong’s electric energy and stage presence made it impossible to look away.

As they performed, you felt a sense of exhilaration wash over you. You danced with passion and power, your heart soaring with each beat. The lights flashed, illuminating their faces as they moved across the stage, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like they were performing just for you. You couldn’t help but smile as you lost yourself in the music.

But then, something unexpected happened. Hongjoong and Seonghwa seemed to lock eyes with you. At first, it felt like a coincidence. There was no way they looked at you, there's a bunch of other people in the crowd. But as the performance continued, you realized they were both stealing glances in your direction. Your heart raced, and a thrill shot through you. Were they really looking at you? You felt your cheeks flush as you danced more fervently, wanting to show them just how much you loved their music.

With every song, their gazes lingered longer, and you could feel a connection forming, one that went beyond the distance between the stage and the audience. As you swayed to the music, you caught glimpses of their smiles and nods in your direction. The thought that they were watching you sent a thrill through your body, igniting a newfound confidence within you.

The concert reached its climax with an explosive performance, and when the final notes rang out, the crowd erupted in cheers. You clapped and shouted along with everyone else, but your heart was racing not just from the excitement of the concert but from the attention you had received. As the members took their final bows, you felt a bittersweet pang in your heart, knowing that the night was nearing its end.

But just as you began to turn to leave, the guard approached you, a serious expression on his face. “Excuse me miss.” He said. “Sorry to bother you, but I've been requested to say something to you.”

Your heart dropped. Did something happen? Did you do something? “G- go on...”

“Seonghwa and Hongjoong would like to see you backstage after the concert,” he said, his voice steady.

You stood frozen, disbelief washing over you. “Me? Backstage?” It was like your heart stopped. Did he really say what you thought he said?

He nodded. “If you’d like, I can take you.”

Your mind raced, and a whirlwind of emotions surged through you—shock, excitement, and a hint of nervousness. You glanced back at the stage, where Hongjoong and Seonghwa were exchanging farewells with the fans. Could this really be happening?

After a moment’s hesitation, you nodded. “I- Yes, please.”

The guard led you through the maze of hallways, your heart pounding in your chest. You could hardly believe you were about to meet them, to be in the same room as the two boys who had captured your heart with their music.

As you entered the dressing room, the atmosphere shifted. The walls were covered with posters and many different items from the night’s show. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were waiting. The rest of the group was nowhere to be seen, and the room was surprisingly quiet after the chaos of the concert. Seonghwa was sitting on a couch, his legs crossed, while Hongjoong leaned casually against the wall. Both of them turned to look at you the moment you stepped in, and their intensity nearly made you stumble.

“You’re here,” Seonghwa said, standing up. His voice was as smooth and velvety as it sounded on stage, but up close, it sent shivers down your spine.

Hongjoong pushed off the wall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “We thought we’d lost you in the crowd for a second.”

You blinked, still struggling to process the fact that two of the biggest idols in the world were talking to you. “I… I’m sorry, what?”

Seonghwa chuckled, his smile softening. “We saw you out there. You stood out.”

“You dance well,” Hongjoong added, his eyes scanning you in a way that made your cheeks burn. “And… well, you’re kind of hard to ignore.”

You didn’t know what to say. Were they flirting with you? This had to be some kind of elaborate prank, right?

“Really?” you asked, surprised.

Seonghwa nodded. “Your- your energy.. It drew us in.”

Hongjoong tilted his head, his dark eyes studying you. “We weren’t sure if you would come...”

Your hands fidgeted at your sides, your nerves making it hard to find your voice. “I… I didn’t think I had a choice,” you said, trying to keep your tone light but failing to hide the shakiness in your voice. A blush slowly crept onto your face.

Seonghwa stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “Are you nervous?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“A little,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing under his gaze.

“There’s no need to be,” Hongjoong said, stepping forward to stand beside Seonghwa. His tone was calm, but his eyes burned with something you couldn’t quite place. “We just wanted to meet you. That’s all.”

Your breath hitched. You were sure your face was on fire now. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Seonghwa said, his gaze locking onto yours. “Just… let us get to know you. Is that okay?”

You nodded once again.

Seonghwa’s soft voice broke the silence first. “We didn’t even get your name,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes met yours, warm and inviting.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong added with a playful smirk. “We’ve been talking this whole time, and we don’t even know who we’re lucky enough to be talking to.”

Your heart raced under their expectant gazes, and you finally managed to answer, “I’m Y/N.”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “Y/N… it’s beautiful. It suits you.”

Hongjoong nodded, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Perfect name for someone like you. It just feels right.” Their words sent a warm flush to your cheeks, their compliments somehow feeling more intimate than you expected.

Something about the way they both looked at you — sincere, yet undeniably intense—made it impossible to say no. You nodded, feeling like you were in a dream.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at their compliments. It was surreal to hear such words from them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were living in a dream. The three of you began to talk, the initial awkwardness fading as you shared stories and laughter. They were personable, engaging, and you felt an undeniable chemistry building between the three of you.

As the conversation flowed, you found yourself stealing glances at both of them. Seonghwa’s soft smile and gentle demeanor contrasted with Hongjoong’s lively spirit and playful teasing. It was a dynamic that intrigued you, one that made your heart race in ways you didn’t expect.

After some time, Hongjoong suggested something. “Why don’t we continue this somewhere more comfortable?” He glanced at the taller, who nodded in agreement.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. “Wh- what do you mean?” you asked, fidgeting with your hands once again.

“Our hotel room,” Seonghwa replied, his voice soothing. “It’ll be more private, and we can get to know each other better.”

Your heart raced at the suggestion. Did he just suggest to take you to their hotel room?! The idea of being alone with them felt both thrilling and intimidating. But a part of you was curious, yearning to explore this unexpected connection.

“Okay,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. God, you felt like you were going to die any second.

Hongjoong led the way, and you followed closely behind, your heart racing with anticipation. They lead you to a car and you all get in.

10 minutes pass and you arrive to the hotel. It... it was luxurious, and as you entered their room, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. It was spacious, with plush couches and a large window that offered a stunning view of the city skyline.

Seonghwa gestured for you to sit on the couch. “Make yourself comfortable.” He smiled at you. He was so hot yet so cute at the same time. Same with Hongjoong.

You settled into the plush cushions, and they both took a seat beside you. The atmosphere was different, a palpable tension hanging in the air as you exchanged glances, each one filled with unspoken words.

As the conversation continued, you felt the boundaries begin to blur. Hongjoong leaned closer, his playful banter making you laugh, while Seonghwa’s gentle presence grounded you. The combination was intoxicating, and before long, the playful teasing turned into something more intense.

Hongjoong’s hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. “So, what do you think of us?” he asked, his eyes shining with mischief.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you. “You’re both amazing. I’ve loved your group for so long.”

Seonghwa smiled softly, his gaze steady. “We’re glad to hear that. But what do you think of us… personally?”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his question hanging in the air. “I- think you’re both incredibly talented and… attractive,” you admitted, your cheeks burning.

Both boys exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening. “Attractive, huh?” Hongjoong teased, leaning even closer. “What else?”

You could feel the tension building, the air thick with unspoken desires. “I just… I didn’t expect to be here with you both,” you confessed, your heart pounding.

Seonghwa’s expression softened, his voice low and soothing. “You don’t have to be nervous. We’re just here to have fun and enjoy each other’s company.”

As the conversation continued, things began to shift. Hongjoong leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours, the warmth radiating between you palpable. “We’ve been watching you all night. You’re mesmerizing.”

Seonghwa reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You have nothing to worry about. We’re here for you.”

You felt your heart race as their intentions became clear. The playful banter faded, replaced by a tension that was impossible to ignore. You could feel the heat radiating from their bodies, the air thick with anticipation.

“Are you sure about this?” Hongjoong asked, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “We don’t want to rush you.”

You looked into their eyes, feeling the weight of their gazes. Something deep inside you stirred, a longing that you had never fully acknowledged. “I… I want this. I want to be here with you both.”

Seonghwa smiled, his eyes warm and inviting. “Then let’s enjoy the moment.”

Hongjoong moved closer, his hand gently gripping your wrist, sending a thrill through you. “Just relax and let go. We’ll take care of you.”

With that, both of them leaned in, their lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. Your heart raced as the world around you melted away, leaving only the warmth of their bodies and the intoxicating mix of excitement and desire.

The kiss deepened, igniting a fire within you that you hadn’t expected. You've never really been kissed before, let alone with two other people. You felt their hands on you, exploring and reassuring as you melted into their embrace. It was a dance of passion and tenderness, a connection that felt both exhilarating and safe.

As the kiss broke, you breathed heavily, your heart pounding in your chest. “F- fuck” you whispered, your cheeks flushed.. The air between you was thick with electric tension, and you could feel the weight of their gazes on you, both boys clearly waiting for the next move.

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You have no idea how long we’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a playful edge. You felt your heart race at the admission, a thrill coursing through you. "Such a good girl.." You whimper as he calls you that.

Then, as if sensing the moment’s shift, Seonghwa leaned in and captured your lips again, this time with a more fervent intensity. His kiss was soft yet insistent, a blend of sweetness and longing that made your head spin. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively as you leaned closer, deepening the kiss.

At the same time, you felt a warm breath against your neck. Hongjoong’s lips trailed down the side of your throat, sending shivers racing down your spine. He planted soft, teasing kisses along your skin, each one igniting a fire within you. You gasped at the sensation, your body arching instinctively toward him.

“Is this okay?” Hongjoong murmured against your neck, his breath warm and inviting. You could feel the sincerity behind his words, the genuine concern for your comfort evident in his tone.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, it’s okay… I want this.”

Seonghwa paused, his lips hovering just above yours, his expression serious yet filled with warmth. “We don’t want to rush you. We want to make sure you’re comfortable with everything, angel...”

You blush as Seonghwa called you "angel." You felt a rush of warmth at their consideration, a sense of safety in being with them. “I am comfortable… I want to explore this. I want you both,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly with excitement.

“Good,” Hongjoong said, a playful glint returning to his eyes. He met Seonghwa’s gaze for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. “Then let’s take our time and enjoy every moment.”

With that, Seonghwa leaned in again, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss was deeper, more passionate, as if they were both pouring their feelings into it. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s kisses continued their exploration, trailing from your neck to your shoulder, each kiss igniting a spark of desire within you. You felt a delicious heat spreading through your body, a mix of exhilaration and longing that made your heart race.

Seonghwa’s gaze was intense as he watched you whine and whimper from hongjoong's action, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You���re so pretty, Y/N,” he whispered, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “We’re so lucky to have you here with us.”

The combination of their words and actions sent a thrill racing through you. You felt cared for and desired, a connection forming that felt both exhilarating and safe. As they continued to kiss you, the world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of their bodies and the intoxicating mix of excitement and longing that filled the air.

“Tell us what you want, sweet girl,” Hongjoong murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “We’re here for you.”

The question hung in the air, the invitation was very much clear. They meant it. You felt a rush of adrenaline, knowing that this moment was yours to shape. With both of them so close, the possibilities felt endless, and you were ready to embrace it all. You could feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the heat of their bodies surrounding you was intoxicating. With a flutter of nerves, you took a breath, meeting their eager gazes.

“I—I want both of you,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Seonghwa's face lit up with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh, little one,” he murmured, his voice a mix of tenderness and desire. “You're so adorable...”

Hongjoong leaned in closer, his expression playful yet hungry. “Sweet girl, you have no idea how long we’ve dreamed of this,” he said, though they quite literally just met you tonight. His voice low and sultry as he brushed his lips against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “We’re going to take care of you, baby.”

-------

A few minutes later, the three of you were on the bed. It was quite large and spacious for all of you and very comfortable. The room was dimly lit, the air was thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. You could feel the heat radiating from both Hongjoong and Seonghwa as they surrounded you with their warmth, their gazes locked on you with an intensity that made your heart race. You were perched on Seonghwa’s lap, but the tension in the air made you feel like you were floating, suspended in a moment of pure anticipation.

“Are you sure you want this, love?” Hongjoong’s voice was low and sultry, a velvet caress that sent shivers inside on you, down your spine . His eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of hesitation. You felt a rush of confidence wash over you as you nodded, the need coursing through your veins palpable.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want you both... p- please..”

“Good girl,” Seonghwa replied, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll take care of you, little one.”

With a swift motion, he pulled you down onto the bed, your body sinking into the soft sheets. Hongjoong followed, positioning himself behind you, his presence radiating warmth and sensuality. You felt a rush of excitement as you settled between them, a delicious tension building in the air. You on top of Seonghwas and Hongjoong behind you.

Seonghwa’s hands found your waist, fingers trailing up your sides, exploring every curve. You gasped as he leaned down to plant soft kisses along your neck, his lips igniting fire wherever they touched. “You’re so fuckin' beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and sultry.

Hongjoong’s hands roamed your thighs, teasingly close to your core. “We’re going to make you feel so good, sweet girl,” he purred, his breath hot against your ear. “Just relax and let us take care of you.”

Your heart raced at his words, the anticipation building as you leaned into Seonghwa’s touch. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, your body aching for more. Hongjoong’s fingers danced along your thighs, inching closer and closer to your most sensitive areas.

“Please…” you whimpered, your voice thick with need. “I- I need you.”

“Tell us what you want, angel,” Seonghwa encouraged, his lips still brushing against your neck. “C'mon, you can do it..”

You couldn't help but whine as he praised you. “I want… I want you inside me,” you gasped, the confession escaping your lips before you could second-guess yourself.

The air grew heavier with desire as Hongjoong’s fingers found the waistband of your underwear, teasingly brushing against your skin. “Such pretty panties,” he said, his voice a sultry whisper. “Too bad we have to get rid of them...”

With a swift motion, he pulled your underwear down, exposing you to their hungry gazes. You felt a rush of vulnerability mixed with excitement, the way they looked at you making your heart race. Seonghwa’s eyes darkened with lust as he took in your body, his fingers moving to part your thighs, giving Hongjoong a clear view.

“Oh fuck, Joong.. Look how fucking soaked she is,” Seonghwa said, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect for us.” You whine at his words, feeling yourself getting wetter, if that was even possible

Hongjoong leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your core, making you gasp. “You’re going to feel so good, sweet girl,” he promised, his eyes locked onto yours. “Just trust us.”

As he positioned himself between your legs, you felt a rush of anticipation. “Hongjoong…,” you breathed, your body aching for his touch

He started with soft kisses along your inner thighs, each one sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You squirmed, the ache in your core growing stronger as he teased you closer to the edge.

“P- please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper. “M'need more...”

“Patience, love,” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to savor this.”

Seonghwa continued to hold you, his fingers brushing along your skin, exploring every inch of you as Hongjoong worked his magic. You felt his warm breath against your core, the sensation driving you wild.

Finally, Hongjoong pressed his lips directly against you, his tongue flicking out to tease your sensitive bud. You gasped, a wave of pleasure washing over you as he began to work his magic. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

“Just like that, sweet girl,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice vibrating against you. “Let go.”

You felt yourself arching into him, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. Seonghwa’s hands roamed your body, fingers tracing the curves of your waist, moving up to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples as you writhed beneath them.

“Oh- oh fuck..” you gasped, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level. “J- joongie..” You moan out as you threw your head back.

“God, look at you,” The older boy moaned as he watched your reaction from Hongjoong's actions, his voice thick with desire. He increased the intensity of his movements, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving you closer to the edge.

Hongjoong continued to suck at our cunt, his hand gripping your ass and spreading it. He shoved his tongue inside your tight hole, earning the most lewdest whine from you. Seonghwa put his hand over your mouth. "Don't want the others to hear you, now do we?" He teased as he pinched your nipple.

The younger one continued his actions, eating you out like a starved man. Seonghwa continued pinching and teasing your nipples, as his other hand covered you mouth.

With every flick of his tongue, you felt the tension coiling tighter within you, ready to snap. “I’m so close,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in Hongjoong’s hair as you pulled him closer, desperately craving more of his touch.

“Let go for us, angel,” Seonghwa urged, his voice a sultry whisper. “We’re right here with you.”

With a final, intense flick of his tongue, Hongjoong sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, the pleasure washing over you in waves as your body quaked beneath them.

“Good girl,” Seonghwa praised, his hands continuing to explore your body as you rode the waves of ecstasy. “Such a good girl for us.”

As your breathing began to steady, Hongjoong pulled back, his lips glistening with your essence. He looked down at you, a smirk on his face, and you couldn’t help but return his gaze, your heart racing with excitement.

“Now, are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice deep and sultry, sending another wave of heat through your core.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “I’m ready.”

Hongjoong positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushed inside. The feeling was exquisite, a delicious stretch that made you gasp as he filled you completely. You could feel Seonghwa’s warmth beside you, his hands roaming over your body, grounding you as you adjusted to Hongjoong’s size.

“Are you okay, love?” Hongjoong asked, his voice a mix of concern and desire.

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding eagerly. “Please, don’t stop.”

With a low growl, Hongjoong began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, allowing you to adjust to him. You could feel the heat building again, the pleasure radiating through your body as he filled you completely.

Seonghwa leaned in, planting soft kisses along your neck, his hands roaming over your body as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re doing so well, little one,” he murmured, his voice a sultry caress. “So fucking perfect for us.”

As Hongjoong picked up the pace, the room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans mingling with his grunts of pleasure. The heat between the three of you grew, each thrust igniting a fire within you that left you craving more.

“Ah- Just like that, love,” Hongjoong urged, his voice thick with desire. “Let me feel you.”

You could feel the tension building again, the pleasure coiling tight within you as he thrust deeper, hitting all the right spots. “Oh my God, yes,” you gasped, your body responding instinctively to his every movement.

“Can you feel how much we want you?” Seonghwa asked, his voice low and sultry as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulders. “You’re ours, little one. Completely fucking ours...”

You felt a rush of possessiveness at his words, the way they both claimed you making your heart race even faster. “I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice thick with desire. “B- both of yours..”

With that, Seonghwa slid his fingers down to your core, teasing your sensitive bud as Hongjoong continued to thrust into you. The combination of sensations sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your body teetering on the brink of pleasure.

“Just a little more, sweet girl,” Hongjoong urged, his thrusts growing more frantic as he chased his own release. “She's so f- fucking tight, hwa.”

You whine and clench around Hongjoongs cock, he was fairly big. Seonghwa continued to play with your clit, kissing your neck as he did so.

As Seonghwa’s fingers worked their magic, the tension within you snapped, sending you spiraling over the edge again. You cried out, the pleasure washing over you in waves as your body quaked beneath them. "I- I'm cumming.."

“Good girl,” Seonghwa praised, his voice a sultry whisper as he continued to work you through your orgasm.

Hongjoong thrust into you a few more times before he followed suit, his release spilling deep inside you as he groaned your name. The sensation sent another wave of pleasure through you, the two of you lost in the aftershocks of ecstasy.

The next thing you knew, you were flipped, so now you were facing Hongjoong while laying on Seonghwas chest...

“God, you felt amazing,” hongjoong murmured, his voice thick with desire as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and slow, allowing you to adjust to him.

Seonghwa’s hands roamed your body, exploring every curve as he leaned in closer. “You’re doing so well, love,” he praised, his breath warm against your ear. “I want to feel you even more.”

With that, Seonghwa slid down your body, positioning himself between your legs. You felt the anticipation building as he gently caressed your thighs, his fingers trailing closer to your core. “Just a little more, okay?” he asked, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and affection.

As Hongjoong continued his steady rhythm, still inside you, Seonghwa positioned himself at your entrance, his gaze searching yours for consent. “Can I, love?” he asked, his voice soft yet filled with urgency.

“Yes,” you breathed, your heart racing with excitement and need. “Please.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, Seonghwa pushed inside you, filling you up in a way that made you gasp. The sensation of both of them inside you was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure that made your head spin.

“God, you’re so tight,” Seonghwa groaned, his voice thick with desire as he began to move, matching Hongjoong’s rhythm. The dual sensation was exquisite, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Just like that,” Hongjoong urged, his thrusts deepening as he found the perfect angle. “Feel us, love.”

Every movement brought you closer to the edge, the heat intensifying as they both worked in perfect harmony, their bodies moving against yours. You could feel the tension building in your core, the pleasure coiling tightly as they pushed you further and further.

“Let go for us,” Seonghwa encouraged, his fingers returning to your sensitive bud, teasing and circling in rhythm with their thrusts. “We want to see you fall apart.”

With a cry of pleasure, you felt the tension snap, waves of ecstasy washing over you as you surrendered to the sensations. “Oh my God!” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure consumed you.

“Good girl,” Hongjoong praised, his voice a low growl as he continued to thrust into you, riding the waves of your climax. “So perfect for us.”

As you rode out the waves of pleasure, Seonghwa’s movements became more frantic, his breath hot against your skin as he chased his own release. “You feel so good,” he groaned, his thrusts growing deeper and more urgent.

After the waves of pleasure washed over you, the three of you settled into the warmth of the bed, the sheets tangled around your bodies. The soft glow of the room enveloped you in a cocoon of intimacy, and you could feel the lingering heat of your shared experience.

Hongjoong pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he brushed his fingers through your hair. “You were absolutely amazing, baby,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can’t believe how perfect you felt.”

Seonghwa lay on your other side, his gaze soft and affectionate as he looked at you. “You did so good, angel,” he added, a warm smile spreading across his lips. “The way you responded to us was incredible.”

You felt a flush of warmth at their words, a mix of pride and happiness swelling in your chest. “I couldn’t have done it without both of you,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. “You made me feel so safe and desired.”

Hongjoong chuckled lightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That’s what we’re here for,” he said, his fingers tracing small patterns on your arm. “To take care of you and make sure you feel everything.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his expression earnest. “You deserve to feel every bit of pleasure, and I’m glad we could share that with you,” he said, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your cheek. “You truly are special to us.”

As you lay there, wrapped in their warmth, you felt a sense of belonging and intimacy that made your heart swell. The gentle banter continued, filled with laughter and soft whispers as they recounted moments from earlier, praising your responsiveness and how beautifully you had surrendered to the experience.

“You have no idea how beautiful you looked,” Hongjoong said, a dreamy smile on his face. “It was breathtaking.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened. “And the sounds you made… they drove us wild,” he added, a hint of mischief in his tone. “We could hardly contain ourselves.”

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of shyness and pride at their compliments. “You both made it so easy to let go,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I felt so connected with both of you.”

“Good,” Hongjoong said, his expression serious for a moment. “That’s exactly how it should be. We’re in this together.”

Seonghwa nodded. “Always together,” he echoed, his hand finding yours, intertwining your fingers. “You’re not alone in this. We’re a team.”

As you lay together, the warmth of their bodies surrounding you, you felt a deep sense of contentment. You knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together, filled with trust, intimacy, and endless affection.

“Thank you for tonight,” you whispered, your heart full as you looked from one boy to the other.

“Thank you for being you,” Hongjoong replied softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Yeah, we’re grateful for you,” Seonghwa added, his voice warm and sincere as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

With that, you settled into their embrace, feeling safe and cherished as you drifted off to sleep, the sound of their hearts beating in sync with yours, creating a melody of love and connection.

The room, now quiet except for the soft rhythm of your breathing, felt like a sanctuary. You could feel the exhaustion creeping in, a delicious heaviness settling in your limbs as satisfaction washed over you.

“Are you both okay?” you asked softly, glancing at Hongjoong and Seonghwa, their faces relaxed and content in the dim light.

“More than okay,” Hongjoong replied, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “I think I could stay like this forever.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his eyes fluttering as he fought against the weight of sleep. “We’re lucky to have you,” he murmured, his voice laced with warmth. “You make everything feel so much better.”

You smiled at their words, the affection in the air wrapping around you like a warm blanket. As you settled deeper into the pillow, the serenity of the moment enveloped you, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy.

“Let’s get some sleep, then,” you suggested softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “We can talk more in the morning.”

“Sounds perfect,” Hongjoong said, his voice growing drowsier. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, a gesture that made your heart swell.

“Goodnight, love,” Seonghwa whispered, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

With their warmth surrounding you and their soft words echoing in your mind, you felt a wave of comfort wash over you. The world outside faded away as you let yourself drift, knowing you were safe and cherished between them.

As sleep began to take hold, you could hear the soft, rhythmic sounds of their breathing, creating a soothing lullaby that guided you deeper into slumber. The closeness of their bodies, the steady heartbeat of Hongjoong against your back, and Seonghwa’s gentle presence beside you were all you needed to feel at peace.

In that intimate cocoon, you surrendered to the darkness, the warmth of their affection wrapping around you like a protective embrace. As dreams began to take you, you knew that you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by love and warmth, with both boys beside you, ready to face whatever came next together.

[menofprogress]

Some of the most (imho) insane choices they made wrg to jayce and viktor:

- having jayce look at viktors crotch post sourdough starter not once, not twice, not thrice but FOUR times. And making it look like hes always catching himself, but cant help it.

- having fire mel turn into fire viktor, essentially comparing the two in jayces mind. What makes this more significant is the lack of other ppl, like if it was "just" about ppl who are important to jayce, why not include his mom or cait?

- jayce rembering viktor with an extremely soft smile on his face, when viktor didnt smile at all in the actual scene. Like it doesnt even matter if jayce is misremembering, imagining, or seeing something that we, the audience, cant. It could be any of those and it wouldnt be any less insane.

- viktor NEVER taking the blanket off, like???? Bro lived in that thing and im just supposed to be normal??

- viktors straight up refusal to believe jayce would hurt him or be against him. Like he cant fathom a world where him and jayce are genuinely enemies and even when theyre actually fighting hes still never going for a killing blow bc he STILL wants to leave the door open for jayce to return to him.

- the sheer fact that viktor does not want to live in ANY world without jayce and is deadass risking the fate of the entire world bc he needs jayce to survive and find him

- and jayce doesnt want to either!!!! He chose to stay and die with viktor even when viktor absolutely believed he would leave him after ~all that~. He could have returned to his mother, mel and cait, but hed literally rather not come back at all than live in a world without viktor like wtf???

- literally the way viktor cant stay mad at jayce? It doesnt happen much, but jayce can be hurtful (the undercity comment) not think things through (building weapons) and actively go against viktors wishes (not destroying the hexcore) and viktor absolutely is mad about that, but he can never STAY mad. Bro, jayce shot him point blank and viktor was like "ah well. Maybe i need to throw him around a little so he can listen to me?"

[estrellami-1]

Stay for Dinner (Stay Forever)

ao3 link

Steve had never been more scared in his life.

He’d been through some things, he thought. Things that changed you as a person, probably. But now he understands why humans are apex predators.

Because he’s being hunted.

He’d started following Steve a few blocks back. He doesn’t have anything on him, pepper spray or a knife. He has keys and fear on his side.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chastises himself, blinking tears away and speeding up the tiniest bit. He sees, in the reflection of shop windows across the street, he’s matching Steve’s pace.

Fuck.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know who to ask for help, when he suddenly sees someone.

He’s an Alpha, Steve can tell right away, even though he’s not as strong-looking as other Alphas. He’s intimidating enough, all leather and chains and wild hair and tattoos, and Steve doesn’t know much about this punk kind of community, but he knows it’s a community, knows this is the safest person he’s gonna find.

He speeds up the tiniest bit more, is practically jogging when he reaches the man. “Baby!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around the man.

The man startles, but seems to catch on quickly, wrapping his own arms around Steve’s waist. “Hey, darlin’,” he says happily, loud enough it carries. “How was your day?”

“Alright,” Steve admits, letting out a little chuckle full of stress.

“Yeah? What made it just alright?” He questions, stepping back to wrap his arm loosely around Steve’s waist, the barest hint of pressure to suggest they keep walking the direction Steve was heading.

Steve thinks, silently, he could fall in love with this man. He’s halfway there based on scent alone.

“Oh, you know.” He keeps his tone light, pretends to look at the man holding him. Actually looks past him, to more shop windows. The man who was following him disappears down a side street, and Steve feels so relieved he nearly collapses.

“Oh, hell,” he breathes out, stepping back and gusting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, fuck, he was- he was following me, and I wasn’t sure what to do-”

The alpha shushes him. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. I get it, I saw him, and hey, I’ve definitely been in worse situations than a pretty omega throwing themself at me.” His eyes twinkle, inviting Steve in on the joke.

He chuckles a little. “Seriously, thank you so much.” He puts a hand on his chest. His hand is still shaking. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I don’t know that either of us want you going anywhere alone right now, though. Do you have someone you can call? I’m sure we can pop into any of these places and you could ask to use their phone.”

Steve feels a whine build in his throat. “I don’t- don’t have anyone, I’m new here, my roommate is my absolute best friend in the world but she’s busy, and anyways she’s half an hour away, and-” his breath catches on the whine, brings it out on the exhale.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he promises. “Would it be okay if I came with you? Or is there a different designation or gender you’d rather escort you? I’m sure we could find someone.”

“No, it’s-” Steve takes a couple of deep breaths. Wills his voice to stop shaking. “It’s fine, you can- if you’re not busy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms. “And I’d love to walk you wherever you’re going.” He pulls back and extends a hand, grinning. “I’m Eddie.”

“Steve,” he gusts out, grasping Eddie’s hand and shaking it. “Seriously, you don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie promises. “My best friend in the entire world is an omega. She’s used me to get away from Alpha creeps so many times, I’ve lost count.” He puts a hand on his chest, bows his head. “And I’d like to formally apologize on behalf of Alphas everywhere. I promise we’re not all creepy knotheads.”

Steve giggles. “I believe you,” he promises. “Thank you. Again. And… thank you for making me feel like it’s okay.”

“It is okay,” Eddie tells him immediately. “That guy’s a real creep, and if I ever see him again, I’m probably just gonna punch him in the face. No words, not a hey, how’re you doing, just bam! Right in the schnoz.”

Steve giggles again. “I’d pay to see that.”

Eddie pouts at him, offers his arm as they continue walking. “You don’t think I could take him? I know I’m scrawny but I’m hiding some muscle, okay, I- well, I was gonna say I work out, but that would be a lie. The most working out I do is moving amps, setting up for a show.”

“You work for a band? Or- a venue, or something?”

“You could say that,” Eddie agrees, letting go of Steve to hop a couple steps in front of him and bow. “You are looking at the frontman of heavy metal band Corroded Coffin.”

“Oh,” Steve says, nonplussed, “I thought you were punk.”

“Punk?” Eddie exclaims. “An affront to my culture! An affront to metalheads everywhere! An affront to me!” He mimes stabbing himself in the heart, dropping in a heap to the pavement.

It makes Steve laugh as he nudges Eddie’s knee with his toe. “Eddie? Oh no, he’s dead. Guess I’ll have to go on alone, with no one to protect me.”

“And I’m revived!” Eddie exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hair falls in his face, and he spits it out of his mouth as he swipes wildly at it.

Steve laughs, moves in closer to help. He meticulously separates Eddie’s bangs from the rest of his hair, then steps back with a light flush dusting his cheeks, realizing how close they were. “There,” he murmurs.

“My hero,” Eddie intones, sweeping low into a bow again before standing straight up and once again offering Steve his arm.

He accepts, and they walk on together.

His apartment isn’t too far, only about fifteen minutes, and it seems much shorter than usual because of the easy conversation flowing. When they get to Steve’s apartment, he sees Robin’s car and grins at Eddie, motioning him inside. “Rob,” he calls, “I brought my boyfriend!”

She bursts out of her room. “Steve!” She yells, pulling him into a hug. She pulls back to study them. “You’ve never met this man before, you slut,” she tells him affectionately. “Hi, Robin Buckley, who are you?” She thrusts a hand Eddie’s direction.

He grins and shakes. “Eddie Munson, at your service.”

“Hi,” she agrees, then taps Steve rapidly on his shoulder. “Explain. Why do you scent stressed?” She presses her nose into his neck. “It’s old but still there. What happened, Dingus?”

“I was being followed,” he tells her.

“A creepy knothead variety of our designation,” Eddie explains.

“I saw Eddie and he was the first person who looked… safe.”

“He jumped me,” Eddie agrees, smirking at Steve. “Not really beating the slut allegation, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shut up,” Steve tells him, laughing.

“I noticed what was happening,” Eddie continues. “Played along. Creep Alpha left, but-”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” Steve admits. “And I knew you were busy, and way far out, and we don’t know anyone else in this godforsaken city.”

“Now you do,” Eddie tells him.

“Now I do,” Steve agrees softly.

“Eddie Munson,” Robin murmurs, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Why do I know that name?”

“Um,” Eddie says, “are you into metal? I’m in a band.”

Robin snaps her fingers at him, expression brightening. “Corroded Coffin!”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “Holy shit, yes! Have you seen us?”

“Oh, no,” Robin laughs. “Not really my scene. But there’s this pup we knows who’s absolutely obsessed. Never shuts up about you.”

Steve frowns. “Dustin?”

“Yeah, Dingus.”

“But I thought he was always going on about the other band.”

“Ah, yes, because as we all know, you can only ever like one band at a time.” She hits him with an extremely judgy expression. “Do you listen when your child talks?”

“Hey, if he’s mine he’s yours, and you know I don’t.”

“Um,” Eddie says, “child?”

“Not actually mine,” Steve reiterates. “But also basically yeah. And yes, he’s obsessed.”

A slow grin creeps across Eddie’s face. “In that case, do you want to do the funniest thing ever?”

Steve’s eyes spark as a manic grin makes its way onto Robin’s lips. “Oh, hell yeah,” Steve agrees.

They work out the plan: invite Dustin over, have Eddie be the one to open the door.

“Hey, little dude,” Steve says into the phone. “You busy for the next little bit?”

“Uh,” Dustin says, sounding distracted, “yeah? I’ve got a test due tonight, a paper due Friday, and then it’s prep for finals. Why?”

“Just, uh. Wanted to see if you wanted to come over,” Steve says weakly. “But if you’re busy-”

“Rain check,” Dustin decides. “Three weeks from Friday?”

Eddie, who’s standing close enough to hear, shrugs and nods at Steve’s questioning look. “Sure, bud,” Steve tells him. “Three weeks from Friday.”

“Okay, great,” Dustin says. “See you!” And hangs up.

Steve pouts at the phone for a second. “No respect,” he sighs.

“Aw, Stevie,” Eddie playfully pouts, “I’m sure your pup loves you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes, but smiles at Eddie.

“What does the rest of your day look like?”

“I do believe the rest of my day depends entirely on what you’re planning with me.” He leans against the wall, shoulders curved toward Steve, who smiles rather bashfully.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Back in her room, Robin calls, “would you like to stay forever?”

Steve instantly blushes firetruck red. “Feel free to ignore her,” he tells Eddie. “She likes to quote movies at the absolute worst time.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Eddie murmurs. His cheeks are dusted pink. “I dunno about forever, not yet, but I certainly wouldn’t mind staying for dinner.”

“Okay,” Steve murmurs. “Chicken work for you?”

“Chicken,” Eddie murmurs back. “Sure.”

Neither of them look away from each other.

The days turn into weeks. That first day—first night, really—Eddie was there, they’d exchanged numbers.

Steve talks to Eddie on the phone most nights. The nights he doesn’t, he’s with Eddie.

At first they’re just friendly. Friends. But there’s something deeper and they both sense it. Eddie’s rosemary-and-walnut scent mixes perfectly with Steve’s lemon-basil. Robin complains about getting hungry around them, and they just laugh, knowing she’s teasing.

Still, that something deeper is there, is entirely present, and Steve knows, and Eddie knows, and he knows Eddie knows he knows. They’re both inching toward a free fall.

There’s one night they’re in Eddie’s apartment. What Corroded Coffin sales don’t cover���which is most of it, Eddie had explained—his shifts at the mechanic shop do. He gets home, weary and grease-covered, and Steve had already let himself in, was making dinner for the two of them.

“Stevie,” Eddie groans, the second he steps foot in the door.

Steve clenches his thighs at the bolt of want that spears through him.

He laughs it off, halfway turns to meet Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, smells amazing,” he breathes. “I’m so hungry I could eat a dragon. Do you know how big those are? And I mean a whole dragon, too, an adult, not a tiny baby one.”

“You’re hungry,” Steve summarizes.

“Starving,” Eddie agrees, brushing a kiss on his cheek before moving off to his bedroom to change.

Steve freezes. Hears the moment Eddie realizes what he’s done.

He’s got a choice to make, he knows. He could pretend like nothing happened. Things would be awkward, for a minute, but they’d get past it.

He could address it. Eddie might get nervous or defensive. Might not react well. Worse yet, he might say he didn’t mean to.

Or…

He sends out a happy, pleased scent, more honey-lemon than usual, and continues cooking.

He hears Eddie walk tentatively out of his bedroom. Hears the moment his feet hit kitchen tile and he smells Steve. “Oh,” Eddie whispers.

“Go change,” Steve murmurs lightly. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Yeah,” Eddie responds. Steve can hear the smile. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he parrots.

He plates the food, and Eddie comes out just as he’s putting the plates on the table, wrapping him up in a hug. His nose dips closer to his scent gland than is strictly friendly, and Steve sends out more of the happy honey scent.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs. “Yeah?”

Steve leans back into him, lets him support his weight. “Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s, around his waist.

He gets Eddie’s happy scent for his efforts, woodsmoke and petrichor filling his nostrils as he inhales.

They talk during dinner. About what they’re feeling, what they’re looking for. “Sweetheart,” Eddie tells him. He’s liberal with the terms of endearment, which Steve definitely likes. “I liked you the minute you threw yourself at me, trying to get away from that creep.” He inches his hands over the table, grabbing Steve’s. “But I fell for you the minute you laughed.”

Steve blinks. “The minute I laughed?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods. “I believe I was apologizing on behalf all Alphas everywhere, who aren’t raging knotheads. You giggled, and you said I made you feel safe, and I looked in your eyes and fell in.” He shrugs. “And, I mean, you know our scents are compatible.”

“More than that,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie nods. “Exactly! And I-” he gusts out a breath. “Hell, Steve, I’m terrified. I don’t know how to be in love. But if it means a future with you? I’d do anything.”

“Love?” Steve asks, scarcely able to breathe.

Eddie bites his lip, grips Steve’s fingers a little bit harder. “Yeah.”

Steve abandons his food, rounding the table and collapsing onto Eddie’s lap. “I love you too,” he whispers. “I know it’s really early, but…”

“No take-backs.” Eddie smiles, pokes his side. “‘S not too early if we both feel it. ‘S just right.”

“Just right,” Steve murmurs, a wondering smile on his face. Suddenly, it turns teasing. “Which one of us is Goldilocks, then?”

Eddie snickers. “Obviously you, you’ve got the hair. My hair’s more like one of the three bears.”

Steve laughs, tugs teasingly on a curl. “Yeah, but I like your hair.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. ‘S metal.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie rumbles. “You tryin’a start somethin’?”

Steve hums, pulls back. “No, sorry. Just wanna be near you right now.” He looks up at Eddie. “Is that okay?”

“Perfect, baby,” Eddie agrees. He shifts, drags Steve’s plate closer. “Finish your food,” he suggests. “Then we can go watch a movie. Or call Robin, if I know you the way I think I do, this conversation isn’t going to be able to wait until you get home.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “it probably can’t wait till tomorrow.”

Careful eyes watch Eddie’s reaction. He smiles, nuzzles the side of Steve’s head. “Definitely not,” he says. “That would be a complete violation of best friend code.” He pokes Steve’s thigh. “Can we call Chrissy after? Can she come over? She hasn’t met you yet.”

Steve narrows his eyes in thought. “Chrissy’s your omega friend, right?”

“She is.”

“And does she like women?”

Eddie laughs. “I like the way you think, baby! Call Robin first, get her over here, Chrissy lives closer than you two do. I’ll call her as soon as you’re off the phone with Robin, okay?”

Steve grins. “Sounds great.” He shovels the rest of his food in his mouth, as fast as he can, then runs to the phone.

Eddie’s not any slower. He doesn’t even finish, excitement pulling any remaining hunger away, and he ends up behind Steve, pulling him into a hug as he talks to Robin.

They hang up after only a couple of minutes, and Eddie dials Chrissy’s number. “Hey,” he says, barreling on before she can even say hi back. “You’ve got ten minutes to get over here if you wanna meet my omega.” He winks at Steve, who beams back at him. Honey and woodsmoke permeate the space, dancing around and melting into each other, creating a soothing blend of scents.

He gets off the phone and turns Steve to face him fully. “Hi,” he murmurs.

Steve giggles. “Hi.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve’s eyes widen, and his inhale turns into a gasp. “Please,” he breathes, and Eddie does.

They’re still kissing, just little pecks, by the time there’s a knock on the door, signifying Chrissy’s arrival.

They part just long enough for Eddie to open the door and hug Chrissy. Steve scoots in under Eddie’s arm, leans into him as he greets her. Strawberry pastries bloom as she grins. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Steve giggles, shakes her proffered hand. “I agree. I’ve heard good things about you.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “And you don’t think it’s weird that he’s such good friends with an omega?”

Steve grins. “My Alpha best friend is on her way over as we speak. I’d argue I’m one of the few who really understands.”

“Then I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” Chrissy nods, walking into the kitchen and fetching herself a drink.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “That’s Chrissy.”

“I heard that!” She calls.

Steve giggles. “I really don’t think you two can be worse than me and Robin.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby.”

“It wasn’t,” Steve protests, laughing. “Not everything has to be a competition.”

“It doesn’t have to, but it’s more fun if it is.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “C’mon.” He motions to the kitchen, and Eddie walks with him.

“So, Steve,” Chrissy says, sitting on the counter. “How did you two meet?”

Steve grimaces. “It’s not a very happy story.”

She sighs. “What did he do?”

Steve blinks, then laughs. “Oh, no, he was great. It wasn’t him at all.”

“C’mon, Chris,” Eddie complains. “You should know me better than that by now.”

“I do know you and that’s exactly why I thought it was you,” she fires back, before looking back at Steve with a little nod.

“I, uh. Robin and I are new here, so I don’t really know anybody yet. I guess I do now, but I didn’t. I was walking and I saw this Alpha following me. And I even tried turning, to see if he was actually following me? And he was. And I didn’t- I had keys, I guess, if it came down to it, but I really didn’t want it to come down to it.” He grimaces, realizes the air is rank with rotted greens. He grimaces again, apologizes. Smiles when Eddie grumbles, pulls him in tighter, and presses a kiss to his temple.

“Want me to continue?”

Steve shakes his head, relaxes in Eddie’s hold. “I can. Just… got overwhelmed for a second.”

“It’s alright, baby. Take all the time you need.”

“I mostly understand anyways,” Chrissy says softly. “If you’d rather skip all that.”

Steve sighs. “He didn’t touch me, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he tells Chrissy. “I saw Eddie standing there, in front of me a little, and he was the first person who looked safe. So I just… pretended. I ran up to him and hugged him, and called him baby, loud enough the guy following me could hear. And thankfully Eddie caught on quickly. He jumped in, no hesitation, and the guy left, but… I was still rattled from it, y’know?”

“Definitely,” Chrissy nodded.

“So he walked me home, came in and met Robin, and… stayed for dinner.”

Eddie snickers. “I think I did what Robin asked, though. I’m staying forever.”

Steve rolls his eyes through his grin. “She’s gonna be insufferable about that.”

“That’s your best friend, baby.”

“Yes, I know,” Steve grouses. He’s still smiling.

Just then there’s another knock on the door, and Steve sprints to open it. “Robin!”

“Steve!” She greets him. He gives her a hug and pulls her into the kitchen. “Robin, meet Chrissy, Eddie’s best friend.”

Robin blinks. “Uh,” she says. “Hi.”

“Hi!” Chrissy says. “It’s really nice to meet you. Steve said you’re like me and Eddie! That’s cool!”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “except we were here first.” She immediately blanches. “Oh, fuck, sorry, no, that implies that what you have isn’t the same as what we have, which means I think you’re a liar, except I don’t think you’re a liar, I swear, I just-”

Aside to Eddie, Steve whispers, “should we give them the room?”

In lieu of an answer, Eddie wraps his arm around Steve and quietly walks them out of the kitchen.

In the living room, sounds are a little muffled, but Steve hears Robin’s ramblings broken up by a softer, higher voice—Chrissy—and soon they’re both talking, a low murmur that works as the background to the steady thump-thump of Eddie’s heart against his ear where his head is pillowed on Eddie’s chest. He yawns, curls in a little. “I could fall asleep like this.”

“I’m here if you want to,” Eddie murmurs, running a hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here. Take you to bed, if you want.”

Steve shakes his head. “I wanna stay out here. But if they stay in there for much longer, I’m gonna fall asleep. Especially if you keep that up.”

Eddie chuckles lightly, keeps rubbing his back. “You do that, baby.”

Steve does.

He wakes up slowly, later, in a way he hasn’t in so long. He’s used to his alarm blaring, shocking him awake, and the rare days he gets off he wakes up in a rush thinking he’s late for work. He rarely wakes up slowly like this, pushing his legs out to stretch, tilting his head up, humming when it puts his nose in contact with Eddie’s scent gland. Rosemary and woodsmoke seep into his nostrils, permeates every inch of his brain. He knows, distantly, he’s pumping out the honey again, but it’s unintentional, and he nearly falls back asleep. He drifts for a while, laying in that twilight of sleep, before Eddie shifts, waking up.

He puts a hand on Steve’s back, and Steve wakes up more, purrs. Eddie rumbles out an Alpha purr back. “Mornin’, baby,” he mumbles. Steve just hums again, and Eddie chuckles. “Not awake yet?”

Another hum. “Almost.”

“Take your time, sweetheart.” He rubs his hand down Steve’s back. “I’ll be here.”

Another hum. “When’id Robbie n’ Chrissy leave?”

“They didn’t stay for too long. They left at the same time, and Robin triple-checked that you’d be spending the night here.”

Steve nods sleepily. “‘S good.”

Eddie chuckles. “Yeah. You wanna wake up or go back to sleep, baby?”

“‘M awake.”

“Wasn’t really my question, but I think that might’ve answered it anyways.” He dips his head to press a kiss to Steve’s temple, and Steve purrs again. Or more. He’s not sure he ever stopped in the first place.

His purring is interrupted by a yawn. He opens his eyes with he finishes, blinks in the dim light of Eddie’s room. “Food?”

“I can make some,” Eddie agrees. “How’s eggs and toast sound?”

“And coffee?”

“And coffee,” Eddie chuckles. “You gonna let me up? Or are you planning on becoming a limpet in your next life and you’re getting a head-start now?”

“Wanna go with you.”

“You can, but that doesn’t negate the fact that we’ve still gotta get up.”

Steve huffs out a dramatic breath, rolls out of bed and onto his feet. Stretches, then realizes he’s in boxers. No pants. He squints at his bare legs, then at Eddie, who smiles. “I didn’t want you wearing jeans in bed, sweetheart, I know how uncomfortable that is. I can give you some pajama pants if you want.”

“Yes, please. And thank you.”

“You,” Eddie says, “are most welcome.” He rolls out of bed and strides to his dresser, tossing Steve a pair of red-and-black plaid sleep pants.

He dons his own, blue with pink polka-dots. Snickers when Steve looks between the two of them.

“You wanna know why I put these on? Instead of giving them to you?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “You know I like those better.”

“I put them on,” he pauses for a taffy kiss, sweet and stretched-out, “so you can take them home with you tonight and put them in your nest.”

“Fuck, I love you,” Steve breathes.

Eddie pushes in for another kiss, this one impatient, hot and searing, licking across the seam of Steve’s mouth, pressing between his lips, bullying his way past Steve’s teeth until he can taste him, and it should be gross because neither of them have brushed their teeth yet but instead it’s just good in a way that makes his Alpha light up. “Love you,” he mutters against Steve’s lips, pulling back to tap Steve’s hand, still holding the plaid pants. “Get dressed, baby. I’ll start on breakfast.”

“No, wait for me!” Steve whines, frantically pushing his foot into the half-folded leg of the pants.

Eddie waits, so Steve slows down a little, letting the pants unfold before he shoves his legs through the holes.

They pad out to the kitchen together, where Steve sits on the counter while Eddie pops bread in the toaster and fries some eggs.

Eating is a quiet affair, Eddie hooking his ankle around Steve’s as soon as they sit down, just wanting to keep that touch.

Eventually Steve has to go get ready for work, so he heads home and nearly bumps into Chrissy as she’s walking down the steps of his apartment building. He grins at her. “Hello,” he says, “sleep well?”

She flushes, but winks at him, and he laughs.

He continues on, up to his apartment, where Robin’s waiting for him. She’s in the kitchen, nursing her second cup of coffee. Steve knows it’s her second because she always downs the first the moment it’s no longer scalding. “Well hello there,” she says, lecherous grin on her face. “And what did you get up to all night, might I ask?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “We literally just slept, Robs, I didn’t wake up until this morning. I did pass Chrissy on my way in, though.”

She nearly chokes on her coffee, blush staining her cheeks pink. She tries to wave him away, goes for the sappy comment. “I’ve never known you to fall asleep on someone you’ve only known a few weeks. It takes longer than that for you to be willing to invite someone into your pack.”

Steve flushes, holds up the pants Eddie had on. “Um,” he says, “surprise?”

Her mouth drops open. “You bitch!” She delightedly shrieks.

He giggles. “Guess you were right about me being a slut, huh?”

“You should know by now that I’m always right. And I thought you said you didn’t have sex?”

“Yeah, but I can still be a slut without having sex.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “That’s not how that works, at all, but also yes. You can. And only you, I think.” She shrugs, turns away to head to her room, bumping his arm with her shoulder. “You’re one of a kind.”

“Hell yeah I am.”

“I never said that was a good thing.” She disappears into her room, leaving Steve to stare after her.

To think she called him a bitch.

The week continues as it had gone before; he and Eddie still talk on the phone nightly, except now those are few and far between; they’re usually at an apartment, either bothering Robin or enjoying solitude with each other in Eddie’s apartment. On the nights when Steve doesn’t work the next day, he’ll stay over at Eddie’s.

He doesn’t entirely know what they’re waiting for. Why they haven’t had sex yet. They both want to, but it’s like there’s a lot whisper in the air, something murmuring not yet, it’s not time now, but soon. And honestly? Steve really enjoys the change of pace.

About a week later is the third Friday, the day Dustin’s coming over. Eddie gets there around noon, because when Dustin says six p.m., what he really means is whenever he feels like it.

That’s why, at a quarter after three, there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie slides in his socked feet over the hardwood, nearly running into the door and saving it at the last moment. Steve snorts.

Eddie throws open the door. “Ah, hello! You must be Dustin!”

“Oh holy shit,” Dustin says, blinking wide-eyed at Eddie. “You- you’re-”

“Wow,” Steve says, coming up to Eddie, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless before.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Good job.”

Eddie snorts. “Thanks?” He hip-checks Steve, sending a warm smile his way.

Steve grins back, moves to the kitchen. “In or out, Henderson, and close your mouth ‘fore you start catching flies like that Mona Lisa of yours.”

Dustin scurries inside. Eddie frowns. “Mona Lisa?”

“Yeah, he’s got one of those…” Steve waves a hand. “Plants that eat bugs.”

“Venus fly trap,” Dustin says. “You’re Eddie Munson.”

“I am.”

“And you’re in Steve’s apartment.”

“I am.”

Dustin pauses. “Why in the hell-”

Eddie wraps an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. “Ah, to be young and carefree, to know not the trap of a heart given to another-”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Steve says, crossing his arms. “Trap?”

Eddie freezes. “Not trap. Uh… fuck, I wrote myself into a corner.” He releases Dustin, bounds up to Steve. Ducks his head and looks up at him. “Forgive me?”

Steve chuckles. “Dramatic dork,” he says, but presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s lips.

“What the fuck?” Dustin screeches.

Steve winces. “Dude, language and volume, c’mon. Christ, it’s like you’ve never seen two people kiss before.”

“But you!” Dustin says emphatically. “Him! How?”

Steve exchanges a glance with Eddie, then sighs and tells Dustin how they met. “He escorted me home, met Robin, stayed for dinner…”

“Stayed forever,” Eddie mumbles in Steve’s ear.

Steve chuckles. “Even if I thought you were punk when I first met you?”

“You what?” Dustin hisses. They both ignore him.

“Even then,” Eddie promises. “Especially then, actually, as soon as people know I’m in a band they act different. You didn’t. Just kept talking to me like a normal dude.”

“Oh,” Dustin says suddenly. “Really?”

Eddie offers him a crooked smile. “Don’t sweat it, man, according to Robin you’re an actual, genuine fan. Already worlds ahead of the people who didn’t give me the time of day until they thought I could give them popularity.”

Dustin nods. “That makes sense,” he says. “Still. It sucks that people are like that.”

Eddie shrugs. “I feel sorry for ‘em. Chasing everything they can to get an inch closer to the top. What’re they gonna see once they get there? A whole lotta nothing. Plus,” he smiles at Steve, “it means we’re here, now.”

Steve leans against him. Eddie wraps his arms around his waist. “Together,” Steve agrees.

“Together,” Eddie parrots.

“Oh,” Dustin murmurs again. “You guys, like, actually love each other, don’t you?”

Steve tilts his head. “How’d you know?”

“The way you looked at each other,” he says honestly. “Like it belongs in a movie or something.”

“Oh,” Steve murmurs. Eddie’s arms tighten around his waist.

“You’re right,” Eddie tells Dustin. “We do.”

Steve snickers. “We do belong in a movie?”

Eddie laughs, dislodges Steve, swats at him until Steve swats back.

“Wow,” Dustin says, deadpan, “you two really do deserve each other. You’re both children.”

Steve exchanges a look with Eddie. They both charge Dustin, who chants, “Shit, shit, shit!” as he runs for the living room.

Eddie catches him around the waist, throws them both onto the couch, where they lay, giggling and panting.

Steve laughs, sitting on the chair to the left of the couch. “Speaking of children,” he asks Dustin, “do you want to call the rest of the Party?”

Dustin’s eyes gleam. “Holy shit, yes, wait, I brought-” he scrambles up, sending an elbow into Eddie’s gut in his hurry. Eddie squawks and grabs at the back of Dustin’s shirt, but Dustin’s out of reach, and doesn’t notice what he just caused. He digs around his backpack for a minute. “Ha!” He yells, holding up a walkie-talkie. “Okay, hang on, lemme-” he depresses the button. “This is Dustin calling a code yellow, everybody come in! I repeat, code yellow, come in!”

“This had better be good, shit-for-brains,” Max warns him.

“That’s what a code yellow means, Max. And you’ve gotta say over. Over.”

“Fuck you, how ‘bout that?”

“Christ,” Steve murmurs to Eddie. “Meet my feral children.”

Eddie grins back. “They sound like fun.”

“Okay,” Will chimes in. “I’m here. Dustin, don’t answer Max, she’s just gonna have an even worse comeback. Save yourself the pain. And us. Over.”

“El and I are here,” Mike says. “Over.”

“How about Lucas? Over.”

“Here,” Lucas says wearily. “What’s this about? Over.”

“I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

“You didn’t know him until today, shithead,” Steve tells him.

“Is that Steve? Hi Steve!” El calls. “What’s the news?”

He grabs the walkie out of Dustin’s hand, sends him a look when he tries to take it back. “The news is,” he looks at Eddie, who nods encouragingly, smiling. “my Alpha.”

He hands the walkie to Eddie. “Hey, guys!” He says. “My name is Eddie Munson. It’s nice to sort-of meet you!”

“Dustin,” Will says, low and controlled. “Tell me this isn’t a prank of some sort.”

Dustin steals the walkie back. “Dude, I nearly died,” he swears to Will. “It’s him. It’s really him.”

The walkie explodes with noise.

“Who?” Max asks.

“I’ll educate her,” Lucas promises, and then they’re both gone.

Then Mike, El and Will take turns pinging in. During a lull, Eddie swipes the walkie. “I’ve got a question,” he says. “Why do you guys calls yourselves the Party?”

“Oh, shit,” Steve murmurs. “I’m gonna lose you to them.”

“Never,” Eddie promises him.

“Uh,” Will says hesitantly. “We play D&D. It’s how most of us met, we were all interested in playing in school, and we kind of just… bonded.”

“No shit?” Eddie asks. “That’s super cool! Who’s your DM?”

“I am.”

Eddie laughs. “Dude, that’s great! I’ll have to pick your brain for storylines. Maybe we could swap our favorites? Do you have any homebrew or are they all canon?”

“They’re all canon,” Will admits. “But I did add my own twists to a few.”

“Man, that’s awesome! When I first started I was terrified I was gonna mess up. Had to do everything by the book. But then I got more confident and I started adding some of my own stuff in, and then I got even more confident and decided to write my own campaign.”

“And it was good?”

Eddie snorts. “Actually? It was complete shit. But I had good friends who didn’t tell me that, they encouraged me to keep trying, and I did, and now I’m actually good at whipping up a homebrew.”

“Wow,” Will breathes. “Could we- not now, obviously, but-”

Eddie chuckles. “I’d love to talk shop with you, Will.”

“Stealing you from me,” Steve murmurs. Eddie rubs a soothing hand on his thigh, passes the radio back to Dustin. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you really feel that way?”

Steve shrugs, tips his head down. “‘M just… feeling weird, I guess. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to coddle me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” Eddie agrees, bringing Steve’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me how I can fix it?”

Steve shrugs miserably. “I don’t know.”

“You’re just feeling some kinda way?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s alright, baby. Wanna come sit over here with me?”

Steve considers it, then nods and moves from his chair to the couch, next to Eddie, close enough they’re touching all the way down and Eddie can comfortably get an arm around his shoulders. “There we go, sweetness. That better?”

Steve sighs, tucks his face into Eddie’s neck, and goes boneless. “Yeah.”

“See what I mean?” Dustin says, and that’s when they both realize he’d broadcasted their exchange to the rest of the Party.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you, little man,” Max drawls.

Dustin squawks. “Just because you’re taller than me!”

“Yeah, yeah. Yada yada. They’re sweet, is what they are, and maybe if you ever got your head outta your ass where your precious Suzie-poo is concerned-”

“Oh, fuck you, Maxine, and what if your guy hadn’t lived in the same town as you, huh?”

“I’d still be doing better than you!”

“Christ,” Steve mutters, curling a hand into Eddie’s shirt. “Make it stop.”

Eddie ducks down to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “You bein’ funny or serious?”

“Both,” Steve admits. “But mostly serious.”

Eddie chuckles, then plucks the walkie from Dustin’s grasp. “Alright!” He says. “That’s enough. This is Eddie, Steve, and Dustin, signing off. Over and out.” He twists the knob to turn the walkie off, then tosses it back to Dustin. “Put that away, please,” he says softly.

Dustin turns sad eyes up to Steve. “Did we cause a migraine?” He whispers.

Steve smiles, reaches out to grab Dustin’s shoulder. “Only a little one,” he admits. “Rain check on the rest of today?”

Dustin nods immediately, shoving the walkie into his bag and scent-marking Steve, accepting the same back, and then turning to Eddie with a questioning look.

“Sure, kid,” Eddie chuckles, reaching out and accepting the same. “It was really good to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiles. “I’ve got a key, so don’t worry about locking me out. I’ll get it.”

“Why didn’t you let yourself in?” Steve wonders.

“You told me to knock.”

“When have you ever done something I told you to.”

“…and the key was in my bag and I didn’t want to have to find it.”

“There it is.” Steve sighs fondly, shaking his head. “Never change, Dustin.”

“Never,” Dustin agrees, fishing the key out of his bag and brandishing it at them with a grin. “Call me?”

“I will.”

“M’kay. Bye, Steve. Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, Dustin,” they tell him, and then the door is closed. Eddie listens for the snik of the lock before he moves himself and Steve to lay down on the couch. “You wanna take a little nap, baby?”

Steve hums. “Should go in my room,” he murmurs. “And… need water first.”

Eddie carefully sits them up, helps Steve stand. “Go to your room, baby. I’ll get you water.”

Steve hums, leans into Eddie for a second. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Omega,” Eddie softly rumbles. “Love you.”

“Love you.” He pushes off Eddie and walks down the hall. Eddie watches him until he’s in his room, then moves to get his water.

The weeks continue. Eddie meets the rest of the Party. He and Max hit it off like a house on fire. Will has a much quieter, though no less sincere, appreciation for him. Steve teases him relentlessly about Mike’s obvious crush on him. “No!” Eddie cries. “He’s a child!”

The weeks continue. Steve is at Eddie’s apartment more than his own now. Robin’s taken to waving a white handkerchief whenever he leaves, like he doesn’t know she’ll be calling Chrissy the moment he’s gone.

The four of them get together fairly often; mandatory Friday movie nights, at the very least, though more often than not they’ll all just congregate at an apartment and stay until it’s far too late.

Steve and Robin’s lease is up soon. And because he tracks his heats, he knows his next one is due right around when their lease is up. “Just move in with Eddie,” Robin tells him. “Chrissy’s lease ends a month after ours. I’ll renew it, and a month in she’ll come live with me.”

“Maybe,” Steve hedges. “I’ll have to talk to Eddie about it.”

She scoffs, rolls her eyes. “Like he’d ever tell you no.”

Steve blushes, because she’s right and he loves it. “I’ll talk to him,” he promises.

“You’d better,” she threatens.

He does. He’s relaxing on the couch with Eddie after dinner when he looks up at him and asks, “Eddie?”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah, baby?”

Steve works his lip. “What do you think of me, maybe, moving in with you?”

Woodsmoke blooms. “How would you feel about it?”

“I really want to,” Steve whispers.

Eddie kisses him. “I do, too,” he whispers back.

“There’s one more thing.”

“Okay.”

“Um. The timing is… really not great. And I don’t know exactly when it’ll be, so it could be before or after mine and Robin’s lease is up, or it could hit, like, the day the lease expires, but.” He takes a breath. “Would you help me through my heat?”

“Baby,” Eddie rumbles, dipping to kiss his gland. “It would be my absolute honor.”

[dwaekkicidal]

Heard you were looking for mean dom thoughts and for some reason my current hyperfixation is telling me Han teasing you to hell and back and denying your climax specifically at like 3AM

brooo han is such a little shit sometimes asjkudhalskjd horny, horny, HORNY, man. he would SO spend the whole day building you up, teasing the living shit out of you while you guys are out and about, all just to edge the shit out of you when you guys get home...

i want to think he would want to have no shame with it, but he knows sneakily doing stuff to gradually get your adrenaline up and running always ends up with you being the horniest by the time you two get home </3

so instead of being blatant about his teasing, i think he would wait until you glance over at him to sloooowly trail his eyes down and up your body, usually lingering on any cleavage or between your thighs

and then when you press your legs together while he's staring holes into your thighs, he's gonna look up at you with the cockiest smirk in the fucking world...

and at this point he LOVES to lean back in his chair and spread his legs as he repositions himself lower on the chair (YKWIM BY THIS???FMLL)

when he's not doing this^ he's usually lingering touches at all times, for literally no reason.

this dude has no business feeling you up in the elevator while his manager is <2 feet away on his phone TALKING TO HAN. but this man is too busy grabbing a handful of your ass (and probably trying to get a feel of your chest if he's able to without getting caught)

nor does he have any business sneaking his hand in your pants during lunch. will find literally any excuse to get up close to you and sneak his hands past your underwear. and dont get me started if u have a fucking skirt on..

if he manages to get a feel, he'll usually dip a finger or two in your hole for literally <10 seconds and then bring that finger/fingers to his mouth and pretend that he spilt some of his food on his hand and wanted to clean it up

the worst ones are when you're at a party or some sort of club with him, usually in celebration after their comebacks are over. and it wouldn't be so bad if he didnt get so tipsy so easily, and beg you to sit in his lap "because i want to hold you 🥺"

*buzzer noise*

ah-ah-ahhh...

that man wants to grind you over his cock the ENTIRE time you guys are in that building. anytime you're sitting down, it is always on his lap- and he is slowly but surely fucking his hips up into you and dragging you back and forth over him.

or if you're adamant on wanting to be on the dance floor, he will be glued to your hip and is gonna grind on you from behind as you two dance. will even try bribing the dj to play sexy songs just so he has a real "excuse" to grind all over you

this^ usually ends with you two dry-fucking in the bathrooms of the place, but neither of you are getting even close to cumming. he's just doing it to make sure you're still nice and ready for him <3

even once he gets you in the safety of your home, he's gonna be aaaaall over you. its sooo far past midnight but he needs some sort of release after spending literally the whole day with a hardon

will have his hands in your underwear, grabbing literally as much of you in each hand as he can- multiple fingers deep before you even get past the kitchen. he's gonna have you half naked and dripping before you guys even walk into the bedroom

you'll be lucky if you manage to get the rest of your clothes off before he's on you,, he's usually so impatient to get started after teasing himself all day that he refuses to wait for anything.

has you bent over the dresser while you're trying to pull your shirt off- his face buried between your legs and making the nastiest, most obnoxious sucking noises for no reason. will happily and quickly bring you to the edge, only to pull away right before you started to cum

laughs at you and drags you to the bed so he can push you onto your back just and admire how fucked out you looked over 1 denied orgasm- and the best part is, he's only just starting <333 he knows you're gonna get fucked stupid and cry so pretty for him before you're

something about the two of you being absolutely insatiable and desperate for any sort of release, just to have him deny you of your own release gives him some sort of sick satisfaction

he lets himself cum into you at least once. and its only because he knows that if he doesnt, he's not gonna be able to control himself and he will overstimulate you instead- which is arguably better or worse lol

i dont think he would be the one to be huge on impact play, but wouldnt hold himself back if you try grinding against him as he's denying your orgasms.

will frown at you and whine in your ear about it, but if you don't stop after that he might land a smack or two to your ass to remind you of your place <3

straight up straddles your hips/thighs and will finger you from up there so that you have less means of wiggling around and accidentally triggering an orgasm

he loves spending the entire night between your legs, from the second you get home to the second the sun starts rising. he doesnt care if he's giving you the messiest oral known to man, or if he's fucking you within an inch of your life, he is doing so with a SMILE on his face

and no, he hasn't forgotten unfortunately. you still arent allowed to cum by the time its 5 am, pushing 6am. its only after you show signs of actually being tired/falling asleep that he will start to push you to your first orgasm of the night- usually being on his fingers and his tongue

[oraclecrackle]

👁️‍🗨️ Tarot is a fluid and evolving practice, where the insights offered can shift in response to changes in your energy and circumstances. As your journey unfolds, the messages may adapt, reflecting the growth and transformation you experience.

👁️‍🗨️ Feel free to like and share to support this message.

Random messages from your future spouse 👁️‍🗨️🩶🪽

Pile 1

👁️‍🗨️ "I want you to know that no matter the challenges we face, we have the strength to overcome them together. You and I are a team, and I believe in us wholeheartedly."

👁️‍🗨️ "There will be moments when we both need to take a step back and recharge, but know that my love for you remains unwavering, and I will always be here when you're ready."

👁️‍🗨️ "I admire your patience and the way you see the world with such clarity. Sometimes, all it takes is a little shift in perspective to realize just how beautiful our journey is."

👁️‍🗨️"I can't wait for the day when we can share our hopes, dreams, and fears. You bring a light into my life that I never knew I needed, and I’m excited for all that's yet to come."

👁️‍🗨️ "Even when life seems uncertain, I trust that the path we are on is leading us exactly where we need to be. With you, I feel grounded, and I know together we can navigate anything."

👁️‍🗨️🩶🪽

Pile 2

🩶 "I can feel the deep connection we share, even in moments when we might be far apart. Our bond is something mysterious yet undeniable, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I can’t wait for the day when we can truly embrace everything we’ve built together."

🩶 "Every day with you feels like a beautiful adventure, like we’re discovering new layers of each other. I know that we’re meant to be together, and I’m ready for all the moments that will create our love story. I’ll always choose you."

🩶 "I want you to know that I see us building something real and lasting something we can celebrate together. When we’re united, the world feels so right. I’m already picturing the life we’ll create, full of love, joy, and fulfillment."

🩶 "There are times when I find myself needing solitude to understand more about what I want and how deeply I feel for you. But no matter where I go, I always find my thoughts circling back to you. You are my heart’s home, and I can’t wait for us to share that quiet, peaceful happiness together."

👁️‍🗨️🩶🪽

Pile 3

🪽 "I know we've both been through so much, and sometimes it feels like we're fighting an uphill battle, but I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together, and I’ll always stand by your side."

🪽 "Every moment I spend with you feels like a dream come true. You are my other half, the one I’ve always been searching for. There's such a deep connection between us, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds."

🪽 "When I think about our past, I smile. The memories we’re creating now will only grow more beautiful with time. I cherish everything about you, and I feel so grateful for how far we’ve come."

🪽 "The journey ahead excites me. We’ve both put in the work and have learned so much. Now, we’re on the verge of something wonderful, and I can’t wait to see where it leads us next."

🪽 "My heart overflows with love for you. It’s like a new chapter has begun for us, and everything just feels right. I’m ready to build a future filled with happiness, love, and endless possibilities with you."

👁️‍🗨️🩶🪽

[clockwayswrites]

The Haunting of Danny Fenton, p4

Masterpost late, tired, still emotional and physically fragile. please no editing <3

“—ir? Sir?”

Danny mumbled something incoherent that was supposed to be a response to that, or befuddlement about being called ‘sir’, or at least something better than ‘wadamehaaftz’. The bite of a tightening blood pressure cuff around his arm helped bring him a little be back to the world. He opened his eyes right into too bright light and winced back in reaction.

“Sir? Do you need us to call an ambulance?” the panicked looking barista asked. She was crouched down next to him where he lay on the floor.

Great, now he could never come back to this coffee shop. That was a damn shame, they had really good bagels.

“No,” Danny managed to make his mouth say. “Seizure. Newish thing for me. I’m fine—will be fine. Sorry.”

“Maybe you should stay laying down for a moment longer?” The barista suggested.

Danny hummed. “Don’t want to be a bother.”

“Dude,” someone said off to Danny’s right. He didn’t think it was worth the effort to turn his head and look, “you just had a seizure. You were screaming. Like, I think we’re all okay if you lay there. We can step around you.”

There were murmurers of agreement.

“Okay, yeah, you know what, great,” Danny said and summoned the willpower to lift his hand and give there room a thumbs up. He let it drop listlessly back down onto his chest.

At least the floor was cool against his back. And he did feel a bit better not trying to get up immediately. When he finally pulled himself back up into his chair, the nice barista brought him a glass of ice water with a straw. Danny drank every drop of the first glass and a refill until the paper of the stupid straw started to turn to mush between his lips.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be up for doing much especially that day, Danny got a bagel sandwich to go, left a generous tip, and fled the cafe with his proverbial tail between his legs.

Penny was was at the apartment. She shoved a still warm load of banana bread at Danny as she bitched about her latest failed relationship. Apparently her girlfriend had been hooking up with the bouncer at their favorite bar. Not that Penny would have minded if they had talked through it before hand and Penny was allowed to join every now and again.

Which, fair, the bouncer did have amazing arms.

When Penny’s phone rang, blaring a dated pop song, Danny was able to make his escape with the added load of his two liter water bottle and bag of little oranges. Or not oranges—clementines? Tangelos? Whatever, little oranges.

He set everything down on the end of his bed before flinging himself onto it.

Another seizure. A worse one.

But a clearer vision of the ghost than he’d ever had before.

Groaning, Danny dragged himself to hang over the edge of his bed so he could pull out one of the storage cubes from under it. After a bit of shuffling, he got the one he wanted out from the back: a long ignored stack of art supplies. Danny rummaged around in it for a pencil and eraser before he pulled the sketchbook out from the bottom. He flipped past old game ides and idle doodles to find a blank page and started to work.

There was so much of the ghost that he still couldn’t define, but the more he worked at the sketch of the ghost’s face, the more he started to narrow it down.

Danny stared down at the page.

Overworked eyes stared back.

Feeling frustrated at how close it was, Danny grabbed a blue marker from the page and filled in the eyes carefully. Then, with almost irritated strokes, Danny roughly messed in the strikingly orange hair.

Now his ghost started back.

“Hello there…”

Danny stared up at the building. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

The figure made a little shooing motion towards the door.

[revelboo]

Revel, this is very important (Atleast to us-). Me and my friend have both been reading Everything is Alright and we both agree on something, we were hoping that you could make Starscream a Girl dad, and make the first sparkling a girl. Only if you want to though and don't have any plans, we'd be alright if you don't do this too. We both really love and enjoy your writing, and check everyday for new updates from you. <3 Also, considering this is a request, If you don't mind and it isn't too pressuring, could we please have updates on the Brainstorm and Chromedome/Rewind fics?

Sure! I didn’t have a plan yet for Star’s kid so that works. I’ll try to update Chromedome/Rewind, Tailgate/Cyclonus, Sunder, Brainstorm, and Metroplex if I can today

Everything Is Alright Pt 123

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “If I was in charge, we’d have conquered this miserable mudball already and crushed the Autobots,” Starscream says, lip curling and you freeze. “The Constructicons already have a refinery going, mining is in full swing. But we’d be much further ahead if you hadn’t let those disgusting Insecticons just scurry away. I’ve said that those little savages need to outfitted with mode locks and tracking implants they can’t just remove themselves.” You’ve heard Star’s side of the war. That they were fighting for freedom and to overthrow a corrupt senate, but this is the first time he’s mentioned conquering your world and it leaves you cold inside. Because was that his intention all along? Whispering to you at night whole knowing he was going to destroy everything and not even caring?

• “What do you mean about conquering Earth?” You ask and Soundwave tenses as your emotions begin to build. Glares at Starscream to stop, but the Seeker is on a roll, secure in the knowledge that Megatron can’t hurt him too badly now. Not looking at you to realize you’re upset. ‘The only value in this world is the energon Shockwave seeded millennia ago,’ Starscream says. “The only value? This is my world. My home.” And you’re shrugging off Soundwave’s hand to face the Seeker, little hands balled into fists. Furious and he’s never seen you angry like this before. “What do you to do to worlds you’ve conquered?”

• Rant faltering at the edge in your voice, Starscream sees Megatron smirk and realizes he’s just made a mistake. Wings dropping, he turns back to you and forces a smile. “Nothing to worry yourself over, little one. Our home is Cybertron. Yours now, too.” And your eyes narrow, looking from him to the other two and back as your face reddens and your chin lifts. Why are you so upset? You’ll love Cybertron. You’ll be with him and your sparkling.

• “I asked what you do to the worlds you conquer,” you repeat. “What’s left after you’re done? Is anything left?” Hates that the upset edge in your voice bothers him and knows it’s the bond pulling him to you, urging him to soothe you, but Megatron has no intention of interfering. Enjoying watching the SIC struggling for words, wings flicking as he finally catches on that he’s screwed up. “I’m not going anywhere,” you say, tossing your hands up and striding away, though there’s nowhere you can really go trapped on the berth. Watches Soundwave drift after you, touching your arm and getting his hand slapped. And Starscream is glaring at him like this is all his fault.

• “Typically,” Megatron growls and you turn to glare at him, unsettled by his lazy smile. “Worlds our war spills onto don’t survive.” Breath catching, you wish he was mass displaced so you could slap him. Actually right now, you want to slap all three of them. There has to be a way to keep your idiots from razing your home to ash with their stupid war. They’re bigger and stronger than you, but they need you don’t they? You’d gotten the impression from Star that fully bonding takes ���til death do us part to the most literal extent. Which means you’ve got leverage to get your way, even if it’s absolutely awful to even consider holding your life over their heads by threatening yourself just to try and get them to behave.. “Though, I might be convinced to spare this world. With the proper motivation.”

• And he can feel the shift in your emotions, the cold calculation. Doesn’t like it one bit, either. Scheming and manipulation isn’t your strength. Curling his arms around you and tugging you back into him when you try to shrug him off, Soundwave tries to pin down exactly what you’re thinking, but as always your mind is too chaotic for him. But he can’t help but be worried. He’d played kingmaker for Megatron, started playing the same game for you, positioning you so you’re safest, but if you’re also playing? It complicates things. Needs to fully bond you as soon as possible so he can better protect you, be able to get a better grasp on your thoughts. Except. There’s the problem of your lifespan. If it was only his life, he’d take it, claim you, but his cassettes need him. Depend on him. And so do you. For the first time he can remember, his path forward isn’t clear to him. What he wants and needs at odds with reason.

Previous

[g4rvez-r3id]

Bad Day

Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You come home from a really bad day and your boyfriend, Spencer is there to save the day… and hold you while you cry.

Category: Fluff, some Angst

Warnings: reader having the worst day of her life, crying, mentions of having bad days, kissing, spencer being the best bf ever- ig that’d be it 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so this is more of a blurb bc i had a bad day today soooo this was the outcome of said bad day and how spencer would be 😌 can you tell i’m projecting again? oops. oh well.

This was probably the worst day of your life. Okay, it may not have been the worst day of your life per se, but it seemed like it was in the top ten at the very moment.

Everything that could’ve happened today happened. You woke up late, causing you to be late to work, you missed the bus on top of that, the customers in the store were horrendous and rude and you’d miscounted the deposit in the store at least a hundred times, causing you to be late to your other bus. Oh, and it was raining. Today was just not a good day.

And after your ten hour shift, all you want to do is just go home and cry yourself to sleep and forget this whole day. You’d arrived back home, holding yourself back from crying until you got into your bed. But you unlocked the front door and came home to a pleasant surprise.

Your boyfriend, Spencer was in the living room, reading a book, feet rested on the couch — showing off his mismatched socks — with a small smile on his face. “Hi, angel!” He diverts his attention from the book to you, closing it as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “How was work?”

You look up at him and his face makes you sad. He’s so happy to see you, so joyful even if he has a job being one of the most important people in the world, catching serial killers. He was a hero, essentially and had seen the worst of the worst out there and still managed to put a smile on his face whenever he saw you.

Your shoulders sank and your head fell against his chest and you began to cry into his sweater. And you cried hard. To the point where you were soaking Spencer’s sweater with your tears. Spencer, being the concerned boyfriend he was frowned and rubbed your shoulders, pulling you away from him so he could see you. “Hey,” He spoke softly. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter? Come here.”

He led you over to the couch where you sat down and he kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” Spencer asks as he rubs your thigh soothingly and your eyes are shut as you cry but you can feel him staring at you, awaiting an answer because he hates seeing you in this state.

“Everything that could’ve happened happened,” You sniffle. “I’ve had such a horrible day, Spencer.”

Spencer frowns as he sits next to you on the couch and lets you lean on him as you continue to cry and cry. “It was a bad day, that’s all it was.” He says as he rubs your arm. “Shh.” He says as he holds you close.

Eventually, you’re done letting it all out and take a deep breath and you look up at Spencer. You had kept your feelings in all day today until you got home and the minute you saw Spencer, you broke. Mostly because it was easier to be vulnerable with him. He made it easy to. And you were never afraid to express it to him.

Spencer looks at you with a fond, sympathetic smile as he takes the opportunity to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as you looked down at his soaked sweater. “Don’t be,” He assures. “It’s normal to have bad days. Bad days are a common human experience, it happens to everyone. It often stemming from stress, poor sleep, or a series of minor inconveniences and while they can feel overwhelming, they can also be a learning opportunity to build resilience and understand yourself better.” He gives you a tight lipped smile after his little fact. And somehow, it makes you feel better about your bad day. “Do you feel any better?” He asks and you shrug with a sniffle, “A little.”

“Well, then how about you hop in the shower and I’ll get your bedroom made up since I put your sheets in the dryer —” He checks his watch. “A little under an hour ago — and I’ll order us takeout and we can have a movie night. And I’ll put on a Disney movie since those seem to cheer you up a lot. Is that okay?” Hearing him say that just makes you want to cry again. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you feel as if you don’t deserve a kind man like Spencer in your life.

Often, people told you to suck it up and get over it and grow up. But Spencer never did. He listened when you had bad days, he sat there when you vented and needed someone to listen to and vice versa. You’d felt vulnerable with him like he had with you. And at first, you weren’t like this. You never opened up to him because you were scared you’d get the same reaction — telling you to get over it, but he never did. He wouldn’t dare to.

“Please don’t cry, my love. I’m sorry.” Spencer says with a small loving smile, holding your face in his hands but you shake your head as him, “I’m not sad,” You tell him. “I’m just… emotional now because… you are seriously my dream man.” You say to him with a small smile and he chuckles at that and pats your thigh as he stands up and goes to the bathroom to get your shower ready.

After you get out of the shower, you go to your room and find Spencer has made your bed, the takeout is here and your TV is on, ready for any streaming networks.

You get into the bed and Spencer happily joins you, opting to turn on Wreck-It-Ralph since you both agreed on it and as the movie starts, you watch him with a small smile.

As he focuses his attention on the screen, you focus your attention on him. His perfect nose, the way it twitches when he’s happy. His brown-on-the-outside, gold-on-the-inside eyes, always so mesmerized in you. And the way they crinkle up when he smiles. And speaking of his smile, the most perfect you’d ever seen it. Next to his hair, which you are currently raking your hands in and brushing through with your fingers. He was so lovely, in your eyes. He was the flower petals to a beautiful rose, he was your everything. Just as you were his. What did you do to deserve him, you wonder.

“No wonder I had a bad day,” You spoke, causing him to turn his head to you and furrow his brows in confusion. “I didn’t have my lucky charm with me.” You say as you brush through his locks.

Spencer has a baffled look on his face at that sentence alone. “I’m your good luck charm, huh?” He asks, raised eyebrows and a small smile appearing across his face.

“The best good luck charm ever.” You lean close and peck his lips with your own and that’s what you’ve missed this entire time. His lips against yours and you can’t help but smile in the kiss.

Blushing like a schoolgirl, you back away from the kiss but he wants seconds. And he grabs you by the chin gently and kisses your lips one last time, so passionately and lovingly and he waits there after the fact, faces close and looking into your eyes as if you made the world stop turning.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you get impossibly close to him as you watch the movie with him and fifteen minutes later, Spencer looks over and sees that you’ve fallen asleep and he lets you rest. And he hopes that your bad day may have turned into a good one at the end of the night.

Spoiler alert: it did.

[drgnflyteabox]

☄︎₊˚˖ fusion vs. fission [1]

series masterlist | simon riley x fem!reader part two -> cosmic dance

> summary: simon learns something crucial. or, simon wants a better life for you. he's willing to do anything to get there. > tags/warnings: murder / violence / death, illness, unplanned pregnancy, poor working conditions, mining, feelings of hopelessness / numbness, hurt/comfort, softdark!simon, scifi, inspired by Alien Romulus, made up science, ambiguous shady deals

Down in the dark and the deep, the air is muggy and teeming with floating particles of dust. They stick to Simon from the damp that builds on his skin, fighting to get through his respirator with each breath.

He’d cut a man for it, watched him leak slowly into a dark offshoot of the mine. Saw the whites of his eyes shine in the lamplight for a brief, terrified moment before going dull.

Nobody had said anything about the missing man. Not the first day, nor the next.

Eventually, it passed like a ship in the sky.

The respirators were luxuries. Simon had watched his own father’s lungs go black from the work, watched him grow small and weak.

Ultimately, it was the sickness that got him. Wasn’t the endless fantasies of violence Simon had replayed in his head since childhood of revenge. 

Just a slow, bleak sickness.

He refuses to let that take him, not while you’re waiting for him to come back.

He leaves the mine, now, crammed into the shaft with his fellow workers in labour. Some have respirators, like him.

Most do not.

The mine shaft creaks, stutters, then dings at the top.

Headlamp, pick, chisel, they all go in a canvas bag, which he straps to his back. Heavy, but not terrible. He only feels it because he’s been worse for wear lately, feeling the effects of hard labour more and more as the years go by.

Still, Simon is better off than some. They walk painfully slowly in and out of their work bunkies, living close to the mines so that they might still work – might still produce labour.

Sick, is what it is. Inhuman.

He can’t bring himself to care, not really, not if he’s being honest. To acknowledge anything but you is to acknowledge how hopeless it all is.

He knows it's bad.

Must be, the way he only feels alive when he opens the door to your shitty little trailer and finally, finally breathes .

You’re asleep, though you must've tried to stay up for him, sweet as you are, and passed out waiting on the couch.

His steps are as quiet as can be as he steps through the threshold of the door, closing it behind him with a rickety sound.

Then he stops. Stares. You’re curled, knees tucked, an old blanket covering you from the shoulders.

Your cheek is pressed to your hand, neck bent, breaths deep.

He thinks you’re beautiful. Knows that you aren’t used to being called that, not when he’d first met you and not now.

But still, he tells you. Loves to watch you scrunch your nose at him and tell him you’re beautiful too, Si .

Part of it is the ultimate rejection of softness, the inability to accept good things in a world demanding that you stay numb to it lest you be burned by getting comfortable.

You complain often about that – about how he’s letting you get comfortable . Lazy, you call it, since he’s stopped letting you go to work.

I worked before I met you, Si , you always say. Doesn’t matter, he’s got you waiting safely at home now.

Bored, maybe, but not lazy. 

Simon has always tried to bring back books or precious commodities from the trade markets like yarn. Things to do. Knows you like to use your hands.

Anything but the mines. He’ll never let you work there again.

Your breath changes when he sits beside you, his weight dipping the worn couch cushion and dragging you just a little closer.

“Told ya not to wait up for me,” he grumbles as your eyes flutter open. Sleepy little cat.

“Wanted to,” you murmur back, though your words jumble and slur a little, half-awake and already leaning towards him like you’re being pulled gravitationally.

“Mm, my sweet girl,” he cups the back of your head, kissing your hair, smelling you.

You’re one of the very few people who smell clean to him. Neutral. Like laundry soap, mostly, and maybe a little bit like the hot bread they serve at breakfast.

A lot of it is just you, though. He likes your natural scent.

Your nose finds his collar, like usual, and you smell him back. He knows he likely smells of soot, of sweat and the minerals they mine on this planet.

You never care. You like how he smells, too, enough to tell him all the time. 

It’s bliss, for a moment. Contentment. He closes his eyes and forgets the haggard faces of his fellow labourers.

Forgets the inequality of it all. Forgets the ads that he walks by that promise a trip on a fancy ship to a better planet if he just worked hard enough.

They’re the only clean thing on the streets, the only things that get wiped and shined on the regular.

He shakes his head, forgets the suffering of the world, and especially of this godforsaken planet.

Then you tense.

He’s attuned to you, can tell when the atmosphere changes. 

When there’s something wrong.

His hands find your face, cradling you, thumbs at your cheeks, “what is it?” he says, brows drawn.

“I have something to tell you,” you say, and his world narrows to a pinpoint.

Simon, sit… we have something to tell you, his mother tells him, before he learns Tommy’s hooked on something bad and he’s barely hanging on.

We’ve got something to tell you, the peace officers broach without a lick of humanity when he learns his family has been killed – a mine explosion had collapsed their trailer into a sinkhole.

So his breath changes. His shoulders tense. He trusts you completely, wholly, in every way, but he’s launched into the void of space by your words and braces for impact.

Only you begin to cry. Hot, globulous tears fall down your cheeks, falling onto his wrists.

They burn worse than hot coal. Hurt worse.

“Sh, you’re alright now,” he soothes. His thumbs brush away as many tears as he can catch, “come on, don’t cry. Tell me what's wrong.”

“I don’t know how this happened,” you hiccough, trying to move your head away from him. He doesn’t let you, holding you in place and letting the stuttering of your breathing resolve itself.

“How what happened, honey?”

“Simon,” – not Si. He braces – “I’m pregnant.”

It starts to rain halfway there. The rain here is different from other planet systems – it makes the air thick with a viscous humidity, coloured with a strange glowing blue.

If he’s to believe the quackjob down the street from him, it’s apparently because this planet is rife with bioluminescent phytoplankton.

I thought plankton were from the water, silly, Tommy says in his memory. I just seen it. He’s four, then, and mostly immune to the suffering he will soon know. 

Simon had been reading to him from a shitty copy of Science for Kids! One leftover from old earth.

This is a special kind, the quackjob had told him. If I could just get a book about it, I could tell you the name … but it’s like phytoplankton!

Simon shakes his head. His mind hasn’t wandered like that in ages.

It’ll be alright, honey, he’d held you there, on the couch, mind miles away. I’ll take care of you, don’t I always? 

He tries to, at least. Has made a hundred promises about your safety, your happiness. Ones he shouldn’t have made, in hindsight, but he’s made them and he intends to fulfil them.

The bar is sparsely populated, likely due to the thick fog of rain.

Price is always there, though. 

It’d be a real sign of impending doom if he weren’t.

There, in the back. Beside him, another man Simon doesn’t know.

What he does know is that Price doesn’t work the mines. Doesn’t have to. The peace officers leave him be, too, because he’s known for making them disappear should they cause any trouble.

“Price,” Simon says gruffly. He’s not putting it on because he doesn’t have to. Naturally big and imposing, he gets the message across.

“Take a seat,” Price says.

He doesn’t make the mistake of thinking he and Price are friendly, but he does know that Price has a sprout of respect for him – it’s up to him to make it grow. To prove himself.

This is the only way for him to take care of you, now.

A deal is made.

The man’s name is Nik, and he’s a pilot. Rare thing on this planet, rarer still that he’s open to business from a man like Simon.

He wants out, and Nik has the means.

Price is included because he needs an extra man on a job, and the history between them lends for a tremulous kind of trust.

A pact built on the fact that each of them are not normal men, not normal workers. They’ve tasted violence, used it, and aren’t afraid to take their gloves off to get a job done.

When he learns of what the mine operator has done to you, he doesn’t immediately act. No, he waits. 

Simon is used to the shadows, to hiding. Used to patience.

He watched his father die, after all, didn’t act even after all that man did to him. Saw him turn to nothing before his eyes.

So he waits for the operator. Finds out his schedule.

You’d been left in the mine for hours. A support had fallen, trapping you and three others behind it. Oxygen grew sparse. No food, no light.

The operator could’ve had a recovery team there within minutes of hearing the news.

Too expensive, he’d said, and sent common miners to dig at the rubble for hours.

That, he could not forgive. Not after seeing your face, tear tracks cutting through the soot, lungs crackling for days afterwards.

Your growing fear of the dark, and of small spaces. Of being enclosed.

No, Simon could not forgive that.

That’s where Price finds him; with blood soaked into his sleeves, knuckles busted, face covered with a mask.

“Looks like you did my job for me.”

Everything comes together, brick by brick, line by line. He agrees to worse things than killing a man for his respirator, but he does it thinking of you and feels nothing for it but satisfaction and peace.

“You sure about this?” Price asks, sipping his drink. Expensive anywhere, a downright luxury here. Speaks to not only his power but his mobility.

Nobody gets off the planet, let alone does it regularly. Nobody but Price – and Nik, Simon thinks.

“I’m sure,” Simon says succinctly. He is, and has never been surer about anything else. There are no boundaries he won’t break for you, nothing he won’t agree to get you out of this hellhole.

Everything’s being expedited now, thanks to the little life growing inside you.

He can’t afford to waste any more time.

You’re still asleep where he left you when he gets back. On the bed this time, covered in a mound of knit blankets.

Your brow is furrowed, even asleep, body curled protectively.

Fuck, that makes his heart squeeze in his chest. Fear, uncertainty, inadequacy. Everything runs through him at one like a herd of wild horses, trampling the earth in their wake.

He crawls in with you, in front of you, staring at your sleeping face. You’re so beautiful, he thinks again.

His knuckles find your cheek, gently touching, eyes dipping down to the curve of your body beneath the blankets.

“S’gonna be alright, sweet girl,” he murmurs, “I’ve got it covered.”

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray

compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked. 

he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing. 

he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains. 

he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse. 

he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you. 

for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago. 

you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest. 

every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active. 

today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them. 

it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird. 

you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight. 

he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”

you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”

“yeah.”

“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”

he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”

you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you. 

“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you. 

“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side. 

kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”

“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet. 

“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink, stunned by the revelation.

“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”

you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”

he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”

“no, eiji, like i love you.”

he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”

you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down. 

he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. 

he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.

[narcissisticsmoker]

It starts with a glance, slow and deliberate, dragging over her body like a touch that never lands but still sets her on fire. The restaurant hums around us, filled with idle chatter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, but none of it exists in my world. My world is her. The way she shifts in her seat, the way her breath catches when I don’t look away, the way her thighs press together as if that will stop the ache building inside her.

It won’t.

Beneath the table, my fingers find the edge of her dress, tracing the hem, teasing the sensitive skin of her thigh. She exhales sharply but doesn’t stop me. I press my palm flat against her leg, feeling the warmth seep through my skin, moving higher, inch by inch, slow enough to drive her insane.

She picks up her wine glass, fingers gripping the stem a little too tightly. “Behave.” Her voice is soft, but I can hear the strain, the warning laced with desperation.

I lean in, lips grazing the shell of her ear, my breath hot against her skin. “Make me.”

Her fingers twitch against the tablecloth. She wants to grab my wrist, to push me away, or maybe pull me closer. But she won’t. Not here. Not when someone might see.

My fingers brush against the damp heat between her thighs, and she stiffens. A sharp inhale, her nails digging into her palm, a silent war between her body and her pride. I apply the faintest pressure, just enough to remind her of who she belongs to, just enough to make her bite her lip in frustration.

The waiter approaches.

She tenses, her entire body locking up, but I don’t stop. My fingers move in slow, lazy circles, coaxing a shudder from deep inside her. Her eyes flick up, trying to compose herself, trying to mask the sheer need that threatens to spill over.

“Would you like dessert?” The waiter’s voice is polite, indifferent, completely unaware of the battle raging beneath this table.

She parts her lips to speak, but nothing comes out. I watch as she struggles to steady her breathing, as she forces herself to stay still when all she wants is to fall apart.

“No, thank you,” she finally manages, but her voice is barely above a whisper.

I smirk, fingers pressing just a little harder, just enough to make her squirm in her seat. “Are you sure? You seem like you’re craving something sweet.”

Her eyes snap to mine, dark with warning, but I see the way they flicker with something else, something more. A need she can’t voice, a hunger that has nothing to do with food.

I withdraw my hand, leaving her wanting, leaving her on the edge, aching, frustrated.

I lean in again, my lips brushing against her jaw. “Meet me in the restroom. Five minutes. Don’t make me come get you.”

She swallows hard, her breath uneven, her pupils blown wide. She won’t disobey. She never does.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Van's Valentines - Heartbreaker

70s DOFP! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: My first Valentines-themed fic! It came out more angsty than planned... All my Valentines fics are gonna be themed around these cute lil Valentine cards that I found through Pinterest!

Plot: He has moved in and out of your life for the last two years, you love him, but you're not sure if you can let him in again...

Warnings: Angst, but a happy ending! Logans a menace, reader is described as a waitress, with some backstory

Word Count: 2168

“Hey pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound of his voice. Trouble. 

Logan Howlett. The menace of your life. The sole reason you have not been able to move on with yourself, to find someone else that you could fall madly in love with. He was the devil incarnate. A son of a bitch who’s made you cry more than you care to admit. 

You met him a little over two years ago. He walked into your small family restaurant. A little restaurant your grandfather started when he was about your age. You were just a waitress when Logan showed up. Handsome man who sauntered into the building with arrogance and snug jeans. He (unfortunately) charmed you off your feet. 

The next month you were in bliss. Until he decided to leave.

He told you it wasn’t you. It was him. That he wasn’t a homebody, that he needed to go out there. See the world. Sticking around just wasn’t him. You didn’t have a choice but to accept that and move on. You may have shed a few tears, missing the warmth of him in your bed, the sound of his voice when he came in to visit you at work, the way he made you feel like the only girl in the world that mattered. Nevertheless, you moved on. It was only a month you were together anyway, right? You had college and work to focus on. There’s other fish in the sea.

Then he came back.

Then he would leave again.

And he would come back again.

Every single time you accepted him into your arms like a fool, he would kiss you and you’d melt under his warm and timber voice, calling you baby, and sweetheart. Then you’d watch him leave again, tears falling down you cheeks as you inevitably began to wonder, why won’t he stay?

Even so, you never let him see the tears. You didn’t want him to know the power he held over you. Even if you both knew that you should’ve stopped opening your arms to him by the third time he showed up. It effectively ruined your love life. You couldn’t date any man without comparing the poor schmuck to Logan in more ways than one. Your heart felt wrong when you finally kissed the jock from your old high school you had a huge crush on during your high school years. You turned down the cute and very sweet new guy with pretty blue eyes who moved in town purely because you knew Logan was going to show up again- and you were right. 

Your grandfather told you once that your soul knew when it met it’s other half. He would tell you that there was strings that tied two people together and no matter how far you strayed from each other- you’ll meet again. You wondered often if that was the case with Logan...Now you're not too sure.

Now it’s been over two years since Logan came in and out of your life. The restaurant you worked in was now yours after the loss of your dear grandfather. The man who’s raised you and made you the person you were today. You dropped out of college when he died, taking over his legacy to the small town you were born in. You took pride in the restaurant, and everyone knew your name and respected you. It didn’t mean that you sometimes didn’t daydream about seeing the world, like Logan does.

It was Valentines day, and you were finishing putting up the pretty heart decorations, stringing along the ceiling and counters. Amongst many other little decorations that you had placed on various counter tops. The local radio station playing various cheesy love songs over the speaker. Despite having your heart broken by him more times than you care to remember. You were still a big romantic, and Valentines was your favorite holiday. Even if you believed you would be spending it alone. 

You didn’t turn around immediately to the sound of his voice. Your mind filled with irritation. 

Why did he have to show up today of all days? At this point you believed he must get off on causing you heartbreak.

You brushed your hands together, adjusted your apron, letting out a hard sigh and turned around, curses prepared on your tongue as you were about to finally tell him to get out of your life for good. Only it died back on your tongue as you saw him.

“Logan?” You blinked in surprise.

He was standing there, looking nicer than you’ve ever seen him. He always looked good, not one to make a fashion statement yet somehow sported the best looks you could see on a man. A clean button up shirt, tucked into smooth dark blue jeans- of course his classic belt with the almost comedically large designed buckle; It was the shape of a heart. His usual worn brown leather jacket that he would drape over you when he’d walk you back home, or when you sat on the back of his pickup and the sun would set, leaving a chill in the air. His hair was slicked back, his usual scruffy beard and mutton chops trimmed and cleaned up. He was sporting sunglasses that he took off, tucking into his shirt, as you took him in- as well as the gifts he was holding.  

He was holding a huge bouquet of red roses in one arm. The other was a big heart shaped box that you presumed held chocolates. 

He smiled- not his usual cocky smirk, it was something soft and genuine. Like the smile you seen your grandfather give your grandmother. He stepped forward. 

“Happy Valentines day baby.” He says, handing you the bouquet, which was so big you needed both arms to cradle it carefully. The aroma of the roses wafted to your nose, and you closed your eyes, taking a big sniff. “I thought you’d like em.”

“I…” You opened your mouth and shut them, looking back up at him with wide eyes, still slightly shocked. You looked into his eyes, the eyes that always made your knees weak.

“Had to get my girl something special for her favorite holiday, hm?” He smiled. 

You looked down at the roses,your heart fluttering at the sound of him calling you his girl. For a moment, you forgot about your irritation, your constant heartbreak. The fact that you thought about him all the time, wondering if he was okay. You have filled yourself with jealousy, jealousy of his lifestyle, jealousy of the girls who probably captured his attention somewhere else. Your heart sank. What are you doing? You’re letting him do it again! 

“Thank you.” You say, your tone firm. “I can’t take these though.”

He blinked in surprise, his smile dropping. “They’re for you.” He states, looking down at them. 

You sighed, moving to set them down on the counter, careful so that the roses don’t get crushed. “We can’t keep doing this Logan.”

“Doing what?”

Your brows creased angrily, a small scoff escaping you. “What? Are you serious? This!” Your voice pitched higher, and he blinked in surprise at your sudden outburst. “You show up, acting like you actually care about me and then leave!” Your hand flew in the air, motioning to him. He shook his head at your comment. You never showed him any anger when he came back, always happy, open arms, and a sweet kiss. A lovesick expression on your face as he’d tell you new stories of his adventures, completely forgetting of how he made you felt when he left. 

“I do care about you.” His voice was low, as his eyes looked down at you in an expression that looked confused. “How could you think I don’t?” 

You blinked in disbelief. How could he care about you? He shows up into your life, he treats you like you’re so important, that he could even….but he leaves. He always leaves. He never looks back. It didn’t matter if you begged him to stay a few more days, for one more kiss. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to move on with your life.

Shaking your head. “You should go Logan. Find some other girl to break the heart of.” You say, bitterness in your tone. There was a shakiness in your voice you attempted to hide. “The flowers are beautiful but I can’t…” You looked away from him, crossing your arms around you. You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to go.

He stepped closer. “You’re telling me to go?”

You nodded, not looking at him. A beat passed, and a hand came up, cupping your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears that you attempted to blink away- refusing to let him see the emotion on your face. 

The way he looked down at you almost made you burst into tears right then. A soft smile came across his face. 

“I’m sorry baby.” He says softly. His hand cupped your cheek, bringing his other hand to cup your face completely. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s my fault. I just couldn’t deal with how you made me feel.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m a huge asshole. I know.” He says softly. “I ain’t got no right. You don’t deserve it.” He continues. “I left that first time cause I knew that I…” He trailed off, looking at you with pressed lips. Like he was afraid to say what he wanted to say. 

“What?” You ask, your heart starting to beat faster. “Logan….”

“I kept coming back because I couldn’t get you out of my head. It was selfish I know.” His thumb rubbed softly across your cheek. Your hands, shakily reached up to rest on his hips. “Every time I left I couldn’t stop thinking about some asshole taking you. Someone who didn’t know how to make you laugh, or make you feel good like I know how.” He leaned forward, his forehead pressed to yours. “I missed you every single goddamn time. Thought about you every night. It drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” 

You let out a small scoff, a small shake of your head. “Look who’s talking..” You mutter. He grinned. 

“I want you.” He says. “It took me some time to accept that. It terrifies me because there’s still some things you don’t know about me. I know it’s shitty. Don’t make me go away. No more running. You and me. We can make it work.” 

You blinked in surprise. “R-really? Logan I-”

“Be my Valentine?” He grinned. A small snort escaped you at the cheesiness of him. 

“Seriously?” You asked. You were still in disbelief. The way he just changed from your outburst. Was he serious? Or was he playing you like a fiddle again?

“Whatever you want. I could take you away from here, go on those adventures you always wanted to go on. I’ll take you New York, to Vegas, hell- I’ll even take you to my hometown in Canada.” He takes a breath. “If you want, after…We’ll come back here. Settle down. Anything you want. I’ll do it.” 

The determination of his face took you aback. Logan was always passionate yes, but he was casual about his passion, he’d pushed away whenever you brought up your relationship, what you meant to each other. Then later at night, in the heat of passion, he’d whisper sweet things in your ear- things he felt about you. You were never sure if it was true or he just said it, simply lost in the moment. You never knew what he was thinking or feeling. He wouldn’t tell you.

“I’ll be here for you. Just let me.” 

You thought back to the times he was here. They were some of your happiest memories. He did always know how to make you laugh. He knew what made you feel good. He knew what to say when you were stressed. He knew your deepest secrets. 

He was there when you lost your grandfather, somehow showing up that day after you found him. He stayed with you throughout the process. At the time, you thought he’d leave almost immediately. You were grieving, were in no mood for flings or flirting but he held your hand the entire way. It was actually the longest he ever stayed. Nearly 3 months. He held you when you cried. Supported you when you quit college. Even lent a hand at the restaurant. You couldn’t even be mad when he told you he had to leave. You were happy to just have someone who was there for you. 

Your grandfather always liked him. 

“Okay.” You smiled, leaning into him. You couldn’t believe yourself. Moments ago you were ready to cuss him out, tell him to get out of your life. Within minutes he made you fold. “We’ll make it work.”

He really was the devil.