#normally I can keep it in check but tonight it just one of those nights when I cannot. and here we are

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

wow I hate everything abt the world

[alisonsfics]

too good to me

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: after weeks of stress and being on edge, carmy blows up and yells at marcus, but carmy holds such a special place in your heart that you go to his apartment afterward to see how he’s doing

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, arguing, general angst and then fluff

You all knew that something had been on Carmy’s mind. The past few weeks, he’d been more than just anxious. He was really putting his perfectionist tendencies to the extreme. It had been three weeks since officially opening The Bear.

Carmy knew that the first few weeks were crucial to a new business, especially one as volatile as a new-age restaurant. He’d been stressed, which was nothing new for him. But, it was more extreme. He had gotten into an hour-long screaming match with Richie about what specific angle the hostess stand should be pointed.

Everyone was trying to keep Carmy calm, but it had to be done carefully. If he picked up on a tone that was too sympathetic, he’d yell “I’m fine,” and storm off.

With everyone walking on eggshells around him, the tickets for the orders got a little jumbled and in a backwards order.

“Somebody better fucking fix this.” Carmy said, running his hand through his hair. You’d seen him do that move a hundred times, and it usually meant that everything was getting overwhelming. “It’s alright, Carmy. I can handle this. Just go take a quick break outside for me, please?” You asked him.

You were Carmy’s weak spot.

He’d always had a special place in his heart for you. He was wrapped around your finger. If anyone else had told him to take a break, he would have told them to fuck off.

Carmy walked around the corner, where Marcus walked up to him with a new pastry in hand. “Hey, chef. I was thinking we could add a new pastry to the menu for that special event next week?” Marcus asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, especially since Marcus didn’t have any urgent work to be done. In that moment, Marcus was just lacking in reading the room.

“Tonight’s service is a disaster, and you’re wasting your fucking time doing this?” Carmy yelled, smacking the dish out of Marcus’ hand.

That was too far. Farther than Carmy had ever pushed it.

You inserted yourself between the two men. “Marcus, you okay?” You asked him. He nodded his head, but looked down at a small cut on the back of his hand. You placed your hand on his forearm. “Go get that cut washed, and then help Sydney sort out those tickets please.” You said, remaining calm.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus said, walking towards the sink.

Carmy was frozen in place, like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “You,” you started to say, turning around to face Carmy.

“I know,” he said, softly.

“Go home, Berzatto. You need to cool off.” You said, trying to be firm but also gentle. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair again. “But I just…one more—” he started to say.

“Home, Carmen.” You repeated, firmer this time. You called him many things: Carmy, Carm, Bear, and the occasional pet name, but never Carmen.

He walked away, but you heard him slam his hand against the wall as he left.

Still rattled from the whole encounter, you tried to get back on your game. “Syd, you’ve got this,” you encouraged your friend, as she directed the kitchen. The rest of the service was a little bumpy as all of you were still a little distracted.

At the end of the service, you were all silently cleaning up your stations. Normally at this point in the night, you were all catching up and joking around with each other. But instead, you all were recalling the night’s events in your heads.

You lightly knocked on the door of the office, where Sugar was sitting and looking through some forms. “Hey, Nat. You mind if I head out a little early? Richie said he’d clean up my station. I was gonna go check on Carmy and see if he’s alright. I’ve been really worried about him.” You told her.

“Yeah yeah, go for it. I think he’ll want to see you. And it’ll be good for him to talk to someone, and you’re the only one he really talks to.” Sugar told you, pulling you in for a quick hug before you left. She hesitated. “Let me know how he is…I’m worried about him,” she told you, softly.

“I will, I promise.” You said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You turned to leave the office. “Carm’s lucky to have you,” she told you as you walked away. You turned backwards as you kept walking. “The feelings mutual,” you added.

You walked up to Carmy’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Carmy, it’s me, please let me in,” you said.

You heard silence on the other side of the door. You fished your spare key out of your pocket and slid it into the lock. You turned the key slowly and let yourself into his apartment.

You walked into his dark apartment. You saw Carmy’s silhouette as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.

“I gave you that key for emergencies.” He said, coldly. You flipped on the light switch, bringing some light into the dark apartment. “I think what I saw earlier calls for a little intervention, don’t you?” You asked. Carmy sat in silence, continuing to stare out the window. You walked around to the front of the couch so you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, still refusing to look at you. Carmy felt guilty about what he’d done. He’d never yelled at you before, and he was ashamed that you had to see him scream like that. Carmy cared more about your opinion than he did about anyone else’s.

You walked towards Carmy, only stopping inches in front of him. “When was the last time you ate?” You asked, blatantly. He leaned back against the couch, trying to add some more distance between you both. He shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer to your question.

You dug into your work bag and pulled out a takeout box. You stopped by Carmy’s favorite burger restaurant in Chicago to grab him some food. You knew Carmy would sometimes forget to eat when he was feeling anxious. “Eat it,” you told him, handing the box over to him.

He reluctantly opened the box and started eating. You set your work bag on the ground and sat down on the chair that faced the couch.

Carmy shifted nervously in his seat as your gaze was set on him. He was unnerved that you weren’t talking about what happened at the restaurant.

Carmy could normally read you like the back of his hand, but something about your current expression was throwing him off. He couldn’t tell if you were going to scream at him or not.

“Are you here to yell at me like everybody else? I already know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at Marcus, and I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave.” He told you, hoping he could apologize and avoid you yelling at him.

“You know that I’m not here to yell at you. You really fucked up, but Marcus knows that you were just stressed. I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay because I’ve never seen you blow up like that” You said, finally showing your cards. Carmy frowned, looking guilty.

“God, you’re too good to me. I acted like a piece of shit today, and you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay.” He said, still amazed by the love you had for him. He was looking at you like you were his whole world.

He set down the takeout box and used his hand to call you over to him. You stood up and walked towards him, and he patted the seat next to him.

You joined him on the couch. You both were sitting so close together that you were practically in his lap. He turned his body so he could face you.

He let his hand rest on your thigh, feeling more grateful for you than he ever had. You let your fingers caress his bicep, “you deserve to be okay. I want you to be okay,” you said, softly.

You studied his face. You noticed the small bags that had formed under his eyes. You wondered when the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep was.

You softly brushed his hair out of his face. When he was stressed, Carmy liked to pull on a certain strand of hair right in the front. You knew him like the back of your hand. You noticed all of his quirks; quirks that most people never picked up on.

Carmy watched as you gently tried to soothe him. He was sure you could see the adoration in his eyes.

“I hope you know how perfect you are. You always know exactly what to say.” He said, smiling at you. He pulled your hand away from his hair and interlaced your fingers. He’d wanted to kiss the back of your hand, but couldn’t push himself to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about why you’ve been so stressed recently?” You asked. You were treading lightly, but you wanted to understand what was making him so anxious. You hated seeing him push everyone away, and you wanted to help in any way you could.

He shrugged. “It’s just the restaurant,” he said, not knowing how else to explain it.

“The restaurant is doing amazing though, Carmy. You have no need to stress about that. You’ve been doing such a great job.” You told him, sincerely.

You watched him get a little more nervous. He was looking down at his lap, avoiding meeting your gaze. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to silently reassure him.

“You can tell me anything, Carm,” you said, softly.

“You just mean so much to me,” he started to explain. You were a little confused as to where he was going with this conversation. The room was silent as Carmy gathered his thoughts.

“Everything at the restaurant has been going so well. Every time my life has ever gone well, something terrible has happened next. I feel like I’m just waiting for everything to…I don’t know, crumble? Losing the restaurant would be terrible, but losing you and the rest of the team would be devastating. You guys are my family.” He told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You quickly pulled him into you arms, giving him the tightest hug you could. He clutched onto you like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go.

“You aren’t going to lose anybody,” you said, holding back tears just from watching how emotional Carmy was.

The soft leather scent of Carmy’s cologne occupied your thoughts as you held him close. You both stayed attached like that for a few minutes. The room was silent, but a comfortable silent.

When you both finally pulled apart, Carmy dried the tears off his cheeks. “Nothing bad is going to happen with the restaurant. We’re all family, and that doesn’t go away based on what happens with the restaurant. You will never lose me, or any of us.” You promised him.

You earned a small chuckle from Carmy when you held your pinky up to him. “You won’t lose me either,” he said, dutifully going through with your pinky promise.

You both stared into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say next. The tension in the air nearly made it hard to breathe.

“I should probably get going and let you have the rest of your evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, standing up from the couch.

You had never felt so awkward around Carmy. Just the task of walking to the front door felt like a giant opportunity to embarrass yourself. Carmy also quickly jumped up from the couch, feeling equally self-conscious.

His hand lightly grazed your back as he led you back to the front door. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me. You really helped calm me down.” He said, sincerely. You smiled and nodded your head at him.

“Make sure to call me if you ever need to talk about anything. I promise that I’ll always be here to listen,” you assured him.

The tension returned.

You both chose to avoid it.

“Well, goodnight,” you both quickly said, at the same time. You rushed out the door, and Carmy closed it behind you.

The door clicked into place and seemingly broke you both out of your trance.

You both realized you had missed the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to finally confess those feelings that had been weighing you down.

You lowered your head, almost shamefully, and started walking down the hallway.

Carmy leaned his head against the closed door, wondering how he could have missed it. The girl of his dreams was walking down the hallway away from his apartment, away from him.

He started to walk towards his bedroom when he suddenly thought “fuck it,” and turned around.

At the same time in the hallway, you had the same thought.

Your heart beating in your ears, you turned on your heel and headed back towards Carmy’s apartment.

Carmy started walking back towards the front door. Before he could reach the door, he watched the knob spin and the door fling open.

You were back and standing in front of him.

Realizing you both had the same idea, Carmy quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His strong tattooed hands cupped your cheeks as he finally kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

He moved one of his hands away from you, but just a second, so he could quickly close the front door behind you.

He pushed you against the back of the door. The back of your head bumped against the door causing you to grin against the kiss. “Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, cupping the back of your head. You quickly nodded your head. “I’m fine, I promise.” You said, grabbing his collar and pulling him back to kiss you.

He smirked against your lips at your eagerness to not break the kiss for even a second. He held onto your waist and pinned you against the door, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

His lips felt perfect against yours. The kiss was somehow everything you’d dreamed of but completely unexpected.

You shifted your weight against him, gently nudging him away from the door. Carmy picked up on what you were doing. You noticed his signature smirk as he guided you towards the couch.

You fell back onto the couch, pulling Carmy down on top of you. All his weight landed on you, causing you to wince. “Sorry, that more violent than it was supposed to be.” He said, sheepishly. He quickly shifted his weight, so he was holding himself above you.

You both were giggly as these little mishaps continued to happen. It suited your relationship. You both had always been able to joke with each other, especially because of your matching sense of humor. It made sense that when you both finally got together that Carmy would accidentally bump your head against the door. But it didn’t make things awkward. You both were so comfortable just giggling with each other.

“Get back here, Berzatto,” you said, connecting your lips again. He quickly obliged. While Carmy loved laughing with you, he had been waiting years to kiss you and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled as he kissed you. You quickly slipped his tshirt over his head and tossed it to the side.

Then, you both heard a strange muffled sound. You pulled out of the kiss and gave Carmy a concerned look. It sounded like someone was in the apartment.

Your face completely changed when you realized what it was. “Carmy, that’s your phone. You butt dialed someone,” you whispered. His eyes also grew wide. He quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket, hoping he could hang up and not say anything.

Once his phone was in his hand, he realized it was a FaceTime call and he was now face-to-face with his sister.

“Oh, shit. Sugar?” He said, the shock clear on his face. You immediately held your hand over your mouth, trying to remain completely silent.

“Hey, uh yeah. You called me? Are you okay?” She asked, confused by the whole situation.

“Oh, I must’ve done it on accident, sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry about yelling tonight. I’m gonna come in tomorrow and apologize to everyone though.” He said, sincerely. You were finding it so hard to not giggle. He was on the phone with Sugar while lying directly on top of you, and you just had to stay silent.

“It’s okay, Carm. Everyone knows you’ve been going through a lot. Y/N was going to head over to your apartment. Did you talk to her?” Natalie asked, genuinely invested.

Carmy quickly nodded his head. “Yeah, she came by earlier and we talked. I’m doing a lot better. Yeah, she’s umm—” Carmy stalled as he tried to come up with a lie.

Natalie picked up on his hesitation immediately. “Oh shit. Is she— are you two— wait is she there now?” She asked, putting it all together. You froze, trying to anticipate Carmy’s next move.

He quickly sat up on the couch before pulling you into his lap. “Hi, Nat,” you said, smiling at the camera and bracing for her reaction. You both watched her jaw drop.

“Did my two favorite people finally confess their love for each other? Oh, you guys,” she awed, being able to read you both just from the way you both were blushing.

Carmy buried his face in your neck. He knew how long Natalie had been rooting for this to happen, and he was having a hard time controlling how red his face was.

“You’re good for him. I’m really happy for you guys,” she said to you. You smiled in return and thanked her.

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to it.” She said, winking at you both and ending the call.

“So, how long before everybody knows?” He asked you. You just laughed in response, knowing it wouldn’t be long.

“I think she’s already sent an all-caps text to Sydney and Richie, and the rest of them will know before we go into work tomorrow.” You told him, honestly.

“We could just stay here tomorrow. We don’t really need to go in, right?” He said, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Would that be the responsible thing to do?” You teased him. He chuckled and pecked your lips. “You know I would spend every second with you, whether it was responsible or not.” He told you.

You giggled, stopping him from kissing you. “Awww we’re only fifteen minutes in and I’m already your biggest weakness? You big softie,” You continued to joke around with him.

“You’ve always been my weakness, sweetheart,” he said, quickly picking up and carrying you to his bedroom.

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[coryndoll]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: cute little way to end the night .. OR SO U THINK

prev next

authors note: 😋😋 dont be mad guys im writing the next part asap. if you arent already part of the tag list, let me know in the replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

(pretend he’s wearing the same clothes stop)

Liked by 14,082 others

dstarkeynews Drew and Y/N’s first appearance in a year on September 30th in Santa Barbara, California!

View comments

user1 i haven’t heard about them in forever

user2 ALMOST HAD HIM

user3 I thought they broke up 😭😭

↳ user4 i think they’re on and off

user5 I remember them from 2018 they’re so cute!

user6 tbh i’m happy for them !!

↳ user6 i’m crying .

user7 y’all don’t love them like i do

user8 i was really hoping they didn’t break up omg

user9 they thought they could keep it a secret ����

user10 WERE THOSE FLOWERS FOR Y/N ????!?$:!:! OMGMGF 😭

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you’re carrying a basket of groceries as you walk with leila through the area. there’s not much on your mind besides checking items off of leila’s list. and it feels nice not having to worry about anything because leila makes you feel normal, makes you and drew feel normal.

speaking of, drew’s just trailing behind you both, though he checks out a few things whenever he sees something he wants to try.

eventually he comes up from your left side and places something he’s bought into your basket, then takes it from you so he can hold your hand with his opposite hand. it feels so natural that you don’t even react, and even if you did acknowledge it, you don’t care.

“it’s so nice to just be out here like regular human beings,” you say, though you note that there’s always a few following behind you three but keep their distance to be a little respectful of your space.

you can hear them giggling every now and then or saying ‘hi’ to their videos that they capture you in, but you don’t think much of it. you think it’s adorable.

drew, however, is itching to get to the car and go home already. leila’s complained twice already that they haven’t completed her list but you’ve already bought everything important for tonight, so you just suggest you go home so both parties still benefit.

leila’s a stubborn one but she gives in when drew is pleading with his palms together. you laugh when she says she can’t stand seeing his “stupid fucking puppy dog eyes”.

when you’re done with your little mini-trip, you return to the car. leila is skipping over with two bags of things while you and drew walk together behind her, swinging your hands back and forth.

he opens your door for you and takes the basket from you so he can keep it in the backseat with leila who happily takes it, and you slide into the passenger’s seat without a thought.

“come on,” his voice pulls you out of the tiktok you’re watching, and you switch your phone off, leaving it on the bed as you drag a blanket with you.

drew’s heading downstairs and he dives right into the sofa, awaiting for everyone to come down already. you wrap the blanket around your body as you shuffle over, seating yourself by his legs.

he sits up instinctively and wraps his arms around you, the side of his head resting on your shoulder as you look around. only a few of you are there—you’re just missing gia and libby who, you guess, are getting the snacks and drinks. and you’re right.

“incoming everyone! don’t be alarmed,” libby says as she and gia make way with the food, and you’re in awe at the spread they’re providing.

“you have your homemade sandwiches—”

“that leila bought from the store,” libby is playing gia’s truth echo that makes you and the others laugh.

“assortment of chips!”

“that i got carried away with and ate half of!”

“can’t go wrong with your candies!”

“theo you owe me fifteen dollars!”

“what?”

“and lastly,” gia closes it out as libby runs back to the kitchen to bring over the tray of cups and drinks. you see oscar rub his hands together mischievously as leila practically drools at the sight. “our drinks!”

libby holds up a cup, “with your name on this complimentary glass that you get to take home after the trip.”

you woo as the glass cups get passed down, and you compare yours with drews while giggling about the free gift. you reach for one of the bottles and fill your glass with it, then take a sip.

“this is what you were working all day on while we were away?” leila asks the girls, extremely impressed by how much dedication they had to providing everyone snacks for her movie night. it essentially is just putting the items into cute bowls and calling it a day, but still. it made her heart warm.

you reach forward and grab a few of the candies and hand one to drew, hinting that you want to try it together. these were purchased by you because you were curious about the taste earlier while you were out.

“ready?” you ask him quickly as he already knows the drill, getting prepared to try it as you count it off. “one, two—” you lean your head back to let the multiple candies you have slide into your mouth while drew just pops his one into his mouth.

as you chew, you raise your eyebrows in surprise. they're really good, and he nods, a small ‘oh yeah’ escaping his lips as he sucks some of the chocolate off of his fingers. you reach over to grab the small bowl, then keep it for yourself without saying anything.

you and drew share a blanket so you’re able to hide the bowl on your lap while he reaches to fill his glass with a drink. oscar hits play on the first movie and you lean into drew’s side to watch the movie this way.

you fall asleep during the second movie, long story short. you can’t help it. but at least you last longer than leila, who fell asleep toward the end of the first one. she was the first one to fall asleep during her own movie night.

drew’s arm tightens around you for a moment, and he shifts to look down at you, finally noticing you’ve completely drifted off.

with a sigh, he decides to call it a night and he rises, sliding out from under you. you stir but don’t fully wake, instinctively curling into the empty spot left by his body.

he hesitates, but then scoops you up gently. you don’t wake up even a bit while your head rests against his chest and he carries you upstairs to the guest room.

the room is already dimly lit by the moonlight filtering in through the windows. he carefully lays you down on the bed, your body finding the most comfortable position as he covers you with the blanket. your breathing is steady as you fall deeper into sleep, and he stands there for a moment, watching you in the soft light, before he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against your leg as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket.

for the first time all day, drew unlocks his phone, the screen lighting up with a shit ton of notifications. missed calls, texts, and a few unread emails flash across the screen, and he scrolls through them with a frown, trying to catch up.

as he gets back up to return to his side of the bed, he swipes through several messages, most of them from his close friends—some teasing, some concerned—before he pauses on one that makes his heart sink.

his eyes narrow, his thumb hovering over the text as his mind races. he was expecting a couple of messages, but not this. not this many. his phone buzzes again, a few more messages lighting up the screen, and he rubs a hand across his face, letting out a quiet, frustrated breath.

his gaze flickers to you again, making sure you’re still fast asleep. the last thing he wants is to wake you up with this, but he glances back down at his phone.

he presses the power button on his phone with a little more force than necessary, the screen going black, then he tosses the phone onto the nightstand with a dull thud. he quickly winces when the sound is a little louder than he expected.

his heart skips a beat when you stir, your eyes fluttering open just slightly, still half-asleep.

“star?” you mumble softly, the name slipping out instinctively.

drew freezes, his gaze immediately shifting to you as you shift under the covers. he forces a smile, leaning forward a little, his voice low and soothing. “sorry,” he murmurs. “just dropped my phone. go back to sleep, okay?”

you blink at him, your eyes barely open, but you manage a small nod, already too drowsy to fully process what’s going on. you can’t read that he’s just lied to you.

“mmf, okay…” you mumble, your body curling into the pillow as you drift back into sleep.

he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as your breathing evens out again. for a moment, the tension in his chest eases, but only just. he leans back, letting his head rest against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments before turning off the bedside lamp.

as the darkness settles around him, the weight of everything presses down harder, and he turns onto his side, facing you. the soft glow of moonlight still filters through the window, and you look so . . . peaceful.

he stays like that for a while, watching you sleep, his mind swirling with thoughts he can’t quiet.

but eventually, drew pulls the blanket up over his shoulder and closes his eyes, trying to shut out the noise in his head and go to sleep.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey

[natalievoncatte]

“What’s wrong with me, Alex?” Kara asked, swinging her feet in a childlike, nervous way as she sat on the exam table.

Kara watched her sister putter around the room. She’d activated the red lamps and taken blood samples, and the tubes were currently spinning away in centrifuges awaiting the various tests she would run. She’s listened to Kara’s lungs and checked her pulse and waved instruments about and taken her blood pressure.

Everything about her was well within Kryptonian norms. Her pulse was running around a hundred and ten at rest, which would be alarming for a human but was a tad slow for her, and her body temperature was at a perfect one-oh-one, again just right for the last daughter of Krypton. There was no issue with her processing of sunlight and no signs of radiation exposure, which had been her fear.

Specifically Kryptonite of the red variety.

Kara had been having intrusive thoughts. They’d started here and there months ago but she’d ignored them, writing them off as some odd byproduct of fatigue or stress.

“You can go for now, kiddo,” said Alex. “I’ll let you know when the results come in.”

Alex looked more bemused than anything- probably because Kara showed no signs of actual sickness and had been cagey and indirect about her symptoms. There was a reason for that.

It became unbearable for her yesterday when Lena dropped by her office. Lena had been dressed in Kara’s favorite work ensemble, a green sweater that bared deep cleavage, a pencil skirt, and sheer silk stockings. She’d had her hair up in a meticulous bun and wore a rich plum red lipstick and smoky eyes, looking more sexpot than CEO.

Kara had barely been able to keep a straight face and make conversation. The mere presence of the other woman in the room made her heart pound and created an unbearable tension in her belly and between her thighs. Her eyes kept falling back to the pale inviting column of her throat or the lush inner curves of her breasts. Kara couldn’t stop imagining a bead of sweat rolling down between them. She couldn’t stop thinking about pressing her tongue to the flesh there and catching it, tasting the pearly bead and following its slick trail up to Lena’s throat while her chest heaved against her.

That was a problem, because those were not normal Kara thoughts. Those were not normal Kryptonian thoughts. Kryptonians did not think about those things, especially with members of the same gender. It had come with that same aching feeling between her legs that Kara had been fighting since she arrived on Earth and was dealing with now, just thinking about thinking about Lena.

Worse, Lena would be there tonight at movie night. It was an all girl’s night so it would just be Alex and Nia watching movies with them; Brainy was busy and Kelly was out of town for an academic conference and they were really just keeping Alex company.

Kara’s mind was a train wreck. She couldn’t stop thinking about Casual Lena. When she dressed down in her big sweaters and leggings and let down her hair in soft waves, she was so tiny and cute and small and Kara just wanted to eat her all up and… feel her from the inside, listen to her cries of ecstasy as Kara got creative and *relieved that fucking pressure between her legs*.

Ack! Stop it!

She had to be sick, or infected with a transdimensional parasite, or under a magic spell, or microdosed with red Kryptonite because KRYPTONIANS DID NOT HAVE THESE THOUGHTS.

So, she went for a fly to clear her head.

She ended up going hypersonic and landing at the Fortress, where she picked up the fifty thousand ton key and let herself in. Thankfully, Clark wasn’t there, so she had the vast place to herself.

The Archive here had a simpler interface, she wouldn’t have to ask a holographic version of her mother why she wanted to know what Lena’s sweat tasted like and pin her down on the sofa in her office and do things to her.

“Greetings, Kara Zor-El. How may I assist you?”

Kara looked at the hovering holographic sphere and described her symptoms, holding nothing back. It hovered there all hovery for a moment.

“What you describe sounds similar in principle to afflictions that affected ancient Kryptonians, especially under a yellow sun. Our ancestors often embraced perverse and hedonistic lusts before embracing the perfection of logic and self-discipline. However, you cannot be experiencing these unnatural and incorrect attractions, as they had been bred out of our people by the breeding program. Attraction to members of the same sex and metamorphic reproductive capability have been deemed eradicated by the Science Guild.”

“Metamorphic capabilities?!”

“Some of the ancestors possessed the ability to adapt physically to their preferred partner with the aid of yellow solar wavelengths. This is no longer possible.”

Kara chewed her lip.

The words rang in her skull. Unnatural. Illogical. It made her sound like some… like some abomination, a monster from ancient times. A tightness formed in her chest tears welled in her eyes. Was she like this? Was she broken? An aberration? Some crude vile thing with the instincts and lusts of a Daxamite? Was she broken?

She left the Fortress in a tearful rush and again she flew, too fast. Her phone started going off in the hidden pocket on the flank of her suit and she lighted on a building in Seattle to answer.

“Kara, where the hell are you?” said Alex. “Lena showed up at your place and you weren’t there and we’ve both been panic calling you.”

“I’m sorry, I was at the Fortress, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.”

Her voice was high and pained.

Alex’s reply was soft. “Come home, Kara. We need to talk.”

Kara nodded to no one. “I’m on my way.”

She made the trip back a bit slower, honing in on Alex’s heartbeat to find her at the DEO, still in the lab. When she walked in, Alex gestured to the exam table and Kara sat down.

“What is it?” Kara almost pleaded. “Alex, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Kara, listen to me,” said Alex, taking both of Kara’s hands. “Look at me, okay.”

Kara looked at her.

“There is nothing wrong with you. I shared the results of the test with Eliza and we went over it in detail. You’re completely fine.”

“I can’t be,” Kara protested. “There has to be a reason why I’m having these thoughts, Alex!”

Pulling her hands free, she jolted to her feet and began to pace.

“There has to be. I have to be sick or messed up somehow. Kryptonians don’t have feelings like this!”

Alex closed her eyes and sighed.

“Kara, listen to me, okay? You’re not sick. You’re not broken. Your best friend is a stunningly beautiful woman and adore each other. There’s nothing wrong with having a crush on her.”

“It’s not a crush!” Kara almost shouted. “It’s more than that and it’s scaring me. What if I can’t control myself? What if I hurt her? What if she sees me looking and she thinks I’m a monster that wants to prey on her?”

Alex’s expression softened. She took a few steps, arrested Kara’s pacing, and pulled her into a bear hug.

“I know how it feels, Kara. I promise you you’re not a predator and there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Kryptonians can’t be gay.”

“Says who?”

“Everybody! The computer! The rules! I don’t know,” The last words came as a broken whimper, and Kara sagged against her sister.

“What about this, Kara. You’re Supergirl. You can do anything.”

Kara pulled back in a daze, staring at nothing. Since she came to Earth, she’d embraced it with her whole self. As loath as she was to admit it, she loved it here. This world was so free, full of wonders and majesty for all its problems. Kara had never once questioned her love for her sister. If Alex could be gay, why not Kara? There was no science council here, no one to ordain who she must marry and breed with.

Why not?

She felt dizzy, and strangely relaxed, as if she’d just heaved a massive weight off her shoulders.

Alex offered her a tissue and she dried her tears.

“Go get the girl,” said Alex. “I’ll call Nia and tell her you need some alone time.”

Kara nodded, and felt half in a daze as she left the infirmary. She stepped out onto the balcony and texted Lena, can I come over?

Lena replied immediately, Yes.

Kara’s heart hammered her ribs as she landed on the balcony. Lena rushed to the door and threw it open, ushering her inside. Kara stepped into the living room of the penthouse and stumbled to a stop.

Lena was dressed down and so soft, from the mop of her wavy hair pulled into a low ponytail to her cashmere sweater down the length of her toned legs to her bare feet.

“What’s wrong?”

As Lena asked, she darted forward, offering a hug. Kara gingerly let herself be pulled into the embrace, hesitant at first. Lena dove into her, throwing herself into the hug as if she wanted to climb inside Kara. Kara wrapped her in her arms and drew her cape around them both. She couldn’t stop thinking about Lena’s feet being cold, about wanting to make her warm.

Before she answered, Kara buried her face in Lena’s hair and breathed deep. Lena’s scent hit her like a train. It was like swallowing a mouthful of alien rum, filling her chest with a spreading warmth and making her head swim.

“I’ve been trying to work some things out, and I was scared, so I ran off to the Fortress. I’m sorry.”

Lena pulled back gently and looked up at her. They were so close. Lena’s big, pretty blue-green eyes were full of worry but dark, her pupils blown.

“What’s bothering you? I’ll throw money at it until it goes away.”

Kara swallowed, hard. “I don’t want it to go away.”

Lena arched a brow. “Oh?”

Kara licked her lips and as she did, Lena’s eyes darted and followed the motion of her tongue. Kara was suddenly away of Lena’s hands resting just above her hips now, the way that her hugs and touches always seemed to trend lower, the casual way that Lena leaned into her as she looked up.

She bit her lip and Kara almost died.

“I think I like girls,” Kara blurted out.

“You certainly like my girls, Kara Danvers. You can’t stop looking.”

“You noticed?” Kara squeaked.

“Kara, darling, you’ve been staring at them for thirty seconds just now.”

Kara’s gaze snapped up.

“I’m sorry, I, oh Rao oh God, Lena.”

Lena curled her fingers around Kara’s chin and tilted her head back down.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice? The day we met you paid more attention to my boobs than my business card.”

“You gave me a business card?”

“See what I mean?”

Kara swallowed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Lena’s thumb grazed her jaw and Kara thought her heart might go off like a bomb in her chest. She shuddered and her toes curled in her boots.

“I’ve been teasing you for years,” she said, “I’d almost given up hope. I wouldn’t be the first disaster bisexual to nurse a futile crush on her best friend.”

Kara swallowed hard. “So should we like go on a date?”

Lena’s fingers traced down her neck, then along the ridge of her collarbone.

“I was thinking more Netflix and chill. I know and trust you, Kara. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count, I’m ready now if you are.”

“Ready?” Kara squeaked.

“So are you, I think,” said Lena.

She rolled her hips and Kara immediately realized what she meant and what the Archive meant by her body adapting.

“Ohshit,” Kara chirped. “Oh God Lena I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing, I didn’t mean to-���

Lena lunged and suddenly they were kissing. Lena’s lips were so soft and she was intoxicating. Kara pulled her into an embrace, almost lifted her off the floor as she kissed her back. Lena threw one leg up and hooked it wound her hip, and Kara instinctively scooped her up and felt a jolt through her body as Lena then wrapped both legs around her waist.

“Fuck, you’re strong,” Lena panted. “Oh God, Kara. Bedroom. Now. Please.”

“You want…”

“Yes! What are you fucking waiting for?”

Later, hours later, Kara lay in Lena’s bed, while Lena slept blissfully next to her, head resting on Kara’s shoulder, smiling contentedly. She looked over at her and tucked the sheets and blankets up close around her chin and smoothed stray strands of hair back from her eyes. Lena made a small sound, and curled around Kara’s side.

Kryptonians, it turned out, could be very good at being gay.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Keep Your Head In The Game

Yandere! Victoria Neuman x reader

(Warnings: threats of murder, non con touching/kissing, implied captivity)

Working at the Bureau had been your dream job. 

Vought had ruined so many people’s lives. It felt good to be part of something that stood against that company for those who couldn't. Despite not having powers, even you could be a hero. You'd worked under Victoria Neuman for years. You knew everything about her. 

And then Hughie Campbell ruined everything. 

You’d like to think of him as a friend. You and him had lunch together sometimes. You’d sit and smile as he went on and on about his girlfriend. He was a nice guy. You’d like to think that he and you were close. 

But Hughie broke you.  

Evidence. He’d shown you evidence of what she’d done. So much blood. So much gore. The orphanage, the files. 

“She’s one of them,” he’d whispered right before he fled into the night, “stay away from her. Quit. Please, for your sake, don’t go back to that fucking snake den.” 

And then he was gone. Just like that. 

Work in the Bureau continued as normal. Safe for the rumors of Soldier boy sightings, everything was so…fine, even without him. 

Even Neuman was unphased. 

She still smiled and laughed and told jokes as she surrounded herself with regular humans. She curled her lip when Supes were discussed. You used to love it when she brought Zoe around, but even her daughter you couldn’t even trust to be real. 

Victoria didn’t act like a Supe. 

But Hughie wasn't lying. 

Friday night. The bureau had a party going on tonight. Another Supe had been successfully put away. Those were always a sight, especially considering Gina would get shitfaced. You couldn’t go, feigning illness before you slipped out the night. You couldn’t enjoy yourself, not when you had so much to think about. 

Instead of enjoying the night with coworkers, you found comfort in the hardest liquor in your cabinet. Your one true friend. 

Not Hughie. Not anymore. Hughie left. Or maybe he was killed. Who knows. Who fucking cares. 

There’s a knock on your door. When you ignore it, it comes again louder. You groan, but you pull yourself off the couch eventually. Your neighbor again. You need to have a talk with her about disturbing you at odd hours of the night. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days.”

You can only stare. Victoria tilts her head. 

“Gonna let me in or will I have to stand out here?” 

Against your judgment, the instinct of always listening to your boss kicking in, you open the door. She elegantly steps in, surveying your home. 

She’s wearing that blue suit you’ve always complimented her on. Earlier, you would have admired her professional elegance. Now, it makes her look more inhuman. She looks even more out of place in your shabby apartment, studying your upkeep. 

“Sorry,” you say when you stop gawking, “I…I hadn’t had time to clean up.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Victoria waves you off. “Just checking in on my favorite employee. How’re you feeling, by the way.” 

“Good.” You quickly reply. “I was just feeling a little under the weather earlier. I hope I didn't worry you." 

"Why wouldn't I be worried?" She tilts her head, grinning with straight white teeth that get increasingly eerie the longer you stare. "We're friends, aren't we?" 

Before, you wouldn't have blinked twice at her words and tone. You would have mindlessly agreed, smiled even. But things were different now. You were playing pretend with a known murderer. 

If you close your eyes, you can still remember the faces in that court before their heads exploded. You'd been behind a screen, watching it all in horror and you remembered closing your eyes and begging for Victoria to be alright, praying that it would be okay if everyone died but her. 

And now to realize she caused all that? 

"Maybe you have a fever. You're shaking." 

You were. You clasp your trembling hands together, trying to ease your nerves. 

"Yeah." Even your voice was wavering. Calm down. Calm down. "I still might not be over...whatever I came down with."

The predator clicks her tongue in sympathy, cooing as she nears her prey. You force yourself not to stiffen when she wraps a sturdy hand around your shoulders, leading you over to the couch. You sit next to her with your thigh pressed up against hers. You feel like you're about to vomit. 

"You should rest," Victoria says, "take a few days off work. I'll let everyone know." 

"Yeah," you say because this is good, it'll help you focus on what you need to do next, "definitely, thank you." 

"Oh, please, don't thank me." She laughs. "I'm glad you're not in the office because you're sick. For some reason, I thought you were avoiding me. Y'know, 'cause you were scared, I would pop your head." 

One second. Two seconds. And then you're up, scrambling off the sofa. It's instinct to run from monsters, no matter if they would take your head off your shoulders on a whim, whenever they want. It's instinct to be stupid and careless and run. 

If anything, you should be grateful this monster is her. 

She's strong, like all Supes are. Even though you know what she is, it takes you a moment to realize it's Victoria who had pinned you against the couch, keeping you underneath her. You used to win arm-wrestling competitions against her. The pressure caused your lungs to tighten, making it hard to breathe. Even has you struggled, tried to claw at her hands, tug on her pristine clothes, she didn't budge. You think the worst thing about all of this was that it didn't even look like it took much effort to keep you down. Like she was wrestling a kitten. 

"Easy, easy." She hushes, tone soft and condescending. "C'mon, we're both adults, aren't we? Let's be civil here." 

Civil. Like she had any right to use that word after what she's done for months, perhaps all her life. Your heart is a hummingbird frazzled with fear, but you can feel that twinge of anger and resentment even then. Something else too: betrayal. 

"Why?" You asked, your voice failing. "Why, Vicky?" 

For the first time tonight, her mask cracks. Her eyes flicker, looking at your defeated body before coming back up to your face. She looks remorseful, but not guilty. 

"I didn't....I didn't want you to find out this way." She admits, slightly easing off you, enough to ease the force in your lungs. "Or maybe ever, actually. Fucking Cambell, leaving a mess, and then running off. What else can you expect from that guy, right?" 

You just stare. Victoria sighs. 

“Of all people, I thought you would understand.” Her voice wavers. “I thought you’d get it, somehow.” 

You look at her, and you feel like you’re staring at that girl from Red River. Scared and Trembling Nadia, who just wanted love, someone to lean on. Someone who wasn't scared of her. 

Then it flickers, and then Victoria's back. 

"You murdered a whole room." You finally say. "How could you possibly ask me to understand that?" 

She glowers, her frown deepens, and then she's sitting up, getting off you. You learn your lesson from last time, but you still huddle in the corner of the sofa, watching her. 

"Right, because I'm supposed to believe you feel bad for them." Victoria rolls her eyes. "Half of those guys vacationed on Epstein's island before the brand change, and you were there when those deep fakes came out. Remember Congressmen Davis? He kept staring at your ass on the House Floor, so I'm not sure why you're acting like they're suddenly men of valor." 

"Yes, yes, yes, they were terrible people." You press your hand to your forehead. "But you-we-we can't kill people. We-we're supposed to do things the right way and I just-" You choke on your words. 

"Hughie got to you," she notes, "I knew I shouldn't have paired you up with each other." 

"You lied to me." You murmur. There's no anger anymore, just heartbreak. "You lied to everyone. I thought we were fighting against Vought, but we've been in their pocket this whole time." 

"We're still fighting-" 

"You're Stan Edgar's daughter. We're in their pocket."

You press your hands to your face, squeezing. All the while you can feel Victoria watching. You ignore her. There's no point in talking to her, not anymore. You might not have known Victoria, but you know the Supe that committed a massacre. Her cover was blown. You were a leaking faucet she needed to turn off. 

"What now?" You ask, drawing up to look at her. "Are you going to kill me?" 

Her mouth twitches. Her eyes flicker with realization. A soft coo comes from her lips, utterly condescending. Suddenly, her posture changes: less intimidating, more welcoming. 

"Oh, sweetie, is that why you're so upset?" She shifts until you're trapped in her arms. You don't bother fighting. Your bravery has run out. Tears are already dripping down your cheeks. "You thought I was gonna...." There's a laugh spilling off her lips. You squeeze your eyes shut when she hugs you tighter. 

"I'm not gonna hurt you," Victoria says, a smile in her voice. "Not to you. Never to you." 

Her hands are so warm as she cradles your face, forcing you to look at her. It's a gentle type of cruelty, forcing you to face your fears while the monster gives you a beautiful smile. 

"I cherish you too much to do that." 

You must look so lost. She laughs even more at that. 

"Seriously? It wasn't obvious? C'mon, Zoe is crazy about you, she never shuts up. And I...I think it's better if I just..." 

Her lips are soft. Gentle. You don't kiss back. You can't. You're frozen in ice. 

"I won't hurt you." Then, her tone tightens just the tiniest bit. "You're friends and family, on the other hand..."

When she pulls away, she's the most relaxed you've ever seen her. You wish you could say the same. While her smile grows larger, so does the gaping hole in your stomach. 

You close your eyes, slumping in defeat.

"What do you want?" You plead. 

You can feel her lips press on your cheek. Victory.

When you walk through the door, Zoe looks elated. 

She calls your name with a delighted giggle, reaching out to hug you. You wish you could return her enthusiasm, but you can barely pat her head. 

"What're you doing here?" She asks when she's done hugging you, looking up at you with pretty eyes. Her eyes are much like her mother's; they just haven't lost their innocence yet. 

Neuman steps in, a strong hand on your shoulder. That same gentle smile that holds the comfort a mother has for her daughter. 

"Gas leak, right?" She turns to look at you. "Real nasty. So, I offered our home for a little while." 

Zoe nods. She's the only thing so far that's remained stagnant. Maybe that's why you're more than eager to listen to what she did at school that day. She rambles on and on, and there's nothing left to say anymore. Until Victoria sends her daughter to bed. 

"It's probably best to keep the real reason hush-hush," she tells you later, shutting the master bedroom. 

You're seated pliantly on the bed, watching her shrug off her cardigan. The mattress sinks underneath your weight. Silk covers. It's too big for just one person. 

You're not a captive, she explained in the back of her fancy black car. You could roam around, meet up with friends, call people, do whatever your heart desired. It would just be under her eyes from now on. 

"A safeguard." She charitably explained, perfectly manicured fingernails drumming on her thigh. "Just so you don't do something we both might regret." 

You don't know if she'd been telling the truth when she insisted your head was off-limits, but you knew she had your family's names and addresses. So you sat pliantly in that car, pliantly listened to Zoe, and pliantly followed Victoria into her bedroom. 

On paper, you weren't a captive. But you and Victoria both knew better. 

"Is Zoe also...?" You trail off, averting your eyes when she unbuttons her blouse. You can hear her clothes drop to the floor as she unabashedly rifles through her drawer. 

"No," Victoria answers. And then your heart drops when she adds. "Not yet." 

You shudder, but she's already sitting next to you. She coaxes you to look at her with a hand on your cheek. Even dressed down, she's gorgeous. Unblemished skin was barely covered by a silk gown. 

You think she looks just as upset as you. Maybe even more. She pets your cheek thoughtlessly. 

"When I brought you to my bed for the first time, I thought things would be different, somehow." She laughs. It sounds bitter. 

"I never wanted this. Not for us," Victoria says, "but-but there's nothing else I can do. It...." 

A tear drips down your face. She's pushing it away. 

'You'll be okay." A kiss to your temple. "I know you will." Lips at your cheek. 

When she finally gives into her inhibitions and kisses you, you know she was lying about it all. 

[omega-e123]

!! NSFW !!

cw: mild somnophilia(?), Cunnilingus, Vaginal sex. Fingering. Breeding kink.

In A Rut…

Prologue || Restraint || Part 3 (HERE) || Adoration

Indulgence

Depressed. Lonely. Unwanted. Those are the words that you’d describe how you’re feeling. You knew Shadow liked his personal space, but isn’t this a bit much? After being the only one initiating for a month straight, it’s finally taken its toll on you.

Rationally, you’re aware if Shadow didn’t at least tolerate your company, he wouldn’t give you the time of day. Let alone reciprocate affection when given. It still hurt, putting in all the effort suddenly.

It’s been a while since the last time you spent the night at his place. Not from the lack of asking. Shadow shot down every time it was brought up. The way he answered differed. Sometimes it was a flat, “No.” Other times he would go silent, deep into thought before politely declining. There was no tell whether or not Shadow was hesitating to say yes or to say no.

Tonight was the night. You practically begged him. Your hands clasps his, bringing it to your chest. Puppy eyes refuse to break contact even as he slightly turned his head away. “Pretty please Shadow? Pleaaaase? I really miss you. Just one night,” you implored.

Shadow grits his teeth. The glaring annoyance in his features conceal Shadow’s inner turmoil. Curse these damn thoughts. If only you were begging for something else. I’d give it all in a heartbeat.

Damn it— “Tch! Fine. For one night.”

It’s a good thing he already replaced those torn covers…

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

The plan was simple. You take his bed, Shadow takes the couch. With this arrangement, he can keep himself in check while you’re still able to get a peaceful night’s sleep.

What a fool he was hoping that you’d agree.

Even though Shadow insisted he take the couch so you can have his bed all to yourself, you countered with, “Well, if you’re going to sleep on the couch so will I! I didn’t ask to stay for the night for us to end up not sleeping together, idiot.”

At first, you tried to sleep with your head laid on his chest. Leg propped over Shadow’s torso. Normally, you both wouldn’t have a problem falling into a deep slumber like this. A subtle steady heartbeat coercing your body to drift away. Protective arms wrapped around your being. Tonight? You weren’t sure if who you’re nuzzling against was a hedgehog or a wooden log.

Try as he might, Shadow couldn’t relax his muscles. In and out. Focus on breathing. Nothing else.

Don’t pay any mind on how much his body has been aching for your touch. Ignore the hot breath that tickles his chest. Your sickly sweet scent filling up his nose. The way your crotch is pressed up against his hip.

You resign, noticing the rigid, mechanical breathing. Wordlessly peeling yourself off of Shadow to lay on your side, back towards him. Better not make him any more uncomfortable even though you really wanted to cuddle him. Give him space and let him chase.

Almost immediately, some of the tension Shadow was holding dissipates. Finally allowing himself to sink further into the mattress. The air feels like a thousand needles pricking him now that your warmth is gone. A heavy breath leaves him, not noticing he’s been holding it in this whole time.

It would be so much easier if he simply told you what is going on. Why he has been ‘distant’ for the past few weeks. Bringing up the topic feels too awkward, too… humiliating. Your partner is so stubborn when it came to asking for help. Shadow didn’t need to suffer alone at all if only he spoke up. You were more than happy to assist him whenever needed… this Shadow knew well.

Weight of the mattress shifts behind you. Springs crunching and squeaking underneath. You paid no mind as your consciousness stood at the border of dreamland.

As the last strand of thought was about to be plucked away, a paid of arms found purchase around your waist. Like a squeaky toy being squeezed, your eyes shot open and bulged out as you quietly squealed from the sudden movement.

Shadow’s body and yours press up against each other. Legs tangle with one another. A tender kiss is pressed to the back of your neck sending goosebumps down your spine.

Sleep finally drags you into the void.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Moonlight peeks through the cracks of the black out curtains. Watching your every move. Shadows intertwine and dance upon the cool sheets of the bed. Ecstasy clings onto every inch of your skin. Combined sweat glistening due to the spotlight provided by the moon.

“Ngh.. haah.. Shadow—“

Your heart leaps out of your chest. The utterance of your partners name startles you awake. Wetness pools in between your legs from the dream. Underwear sticks uncomfortably to your cunt.

Heavy breathing combined with something hard pressed against your ass signals that you’re not the only one having a wonderful dream or maybe he was the cause? Pressure varies from light to firm in a nice rhythmic pattern.

Shadow’s arms are wrapped around you tight, unaware that you’re awake. His hot breaths that moan your name tickle your ear. One hand begins to wander. The inhibitor ring gets caught by the fabric, here and there, contributing to his clunky movements. Eventually it finds its way to the edge of your shirt. Shadow’s bare hand slides up your abdomen, between the valley of your breasts, before settling on a mound. Gently but firmly gripping it. Even though you call out his name, no response is given. Shadow continues to hump your ass, riling you up more. Hips begin to move in tandem with his, craving more friction. A whimper escapes past your lips, calling out his name once more.

What woke Shadow up was your hand squeezing the top of his. Blinking the sleep away, he became more aware of his actions.

Guilt swallows him up whole. Shadow mutters a rushed apology, “I didn’t— Forgive me.” His ears flick back momentarily in agitation as he begins to free his limbs from you. Although untangled your hand refuses to let go. When he sits up, so do you. Oh no, you’ve let this gone on long enough.

“Forgive you for what?”, you interject, worry laced in your words. Due to the low light in the room, you could only partially see Shadow’s expression. An oh so familiar mask of stone adorns his face.

He doesn’t move an inch. A good sign. It means he’s not immediately avoiding or distancing himself from you. A chance to reel Shadow back... To keep him grounded.

Silence follows your question. Again, you speak up, “What’s on your mind, my love? You’ve been acting odd these days. If there’s anything I can help you with…”

The void of the room stares straight back at Shadow. Thoughts collecting to form a coherent sentence. Finally he speaks, though not of his own volition. Words spill out before he could stop them, “That’s the problem. You can and you would. Taking advantage of you is not something I intend to do… but I might with my current state.”

Brows furrow and a deep frown sets on your muzzle. “What the fuck are you talking about.” May the gods praise you for your patience with this man—. Sucking in a sharp inhale you speak again,“Shadow.. It is not taking advantage for accepting my help. Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered in the first place. It’s not as if I’m physically unable to say no later down the line anyways,” your free hand reaches up to Shadow’s cheek, turning his face towards you, “So if you could please tell me instead of having me guess, I would appreciate it.”

Your hand is so incredibly soft. Shadow couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “It’s— rutting season,” he mutters under his breath.

“What?”

Although he’s facing you, his eyes refuse to meet yours. Shadow’s shyness announces its presence in the form of crimson staining his cheeks, “It’s.. supposedly the time of the year for hedgehogs having the urge to breed.” His tail thumps excessively at the thought of knocking you up. Reaching back, Shadow grabs his tail to hold it still.

The cogs in your brain begin to turn, putting the pieces together. This whole time he was acting touch adverse due to being overstimulated by your presence. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed that Shadow didn’t tell you sooner.

Taking too long to answer, Shadow takes your silence as judgement. “Hmph, I’m sleeping on the couch,” he announces, shuffling away from you.

“The hell you are! You’re finishing what you started tonight, mister.” Your partner is forcefully yanked back and pinned onto the mattress. Straddling him, you can see his features much easier. Eyes looking up at you widen in shock before narrowing. Shadow’s fangs flash in a mischievous smirk.

“You are aware of what you’re asking, right?”

“Uh, yes?”

Easy as flipping a pancake, you two switch positions. Your hands are in tight grips above your head. Shadow leans close to your ear, chests nearly touching. In a low sultry voice he says, “You sound unsure. Allow me to clarify: I won’t be done with you until you’re passed out or I’m empty, understood?”

It was as if a switch had been flipped inside him. Now that the laundry has been hung up to air, Shadow can finally indulge what he’s been craving for: you.

Scarlet eyes scan your features for any hint of fear, hesitation. Of course Shadow wants you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself while he lets out his urges.

Immediately your heart leaps into your throat. Excitement shooting through your system like electricity. The edges of your mouth twist upwards into a lopsided smile. “Loud and clear, Shad. You have a lot of lost time to make up,” you answer back cheekily. Finding your answer satisfactory, Shadow encapsulates your lips in a kiss. Starting slow, pacing yourselves, enjoying the moment.

Minuscule moans fill the silence here and there as the pace picks up. Wanting more contact, your hands struggle against Shadow’s grip. One hand lets go to snake under your shirt and massage your breast. The other adjusts to keep both of your wrists down.

So much stimulation but none quite what your body aching for. Legs squirm, complaining about the lack of attention on your bottom half. Your hips arch up, drawing out a guttural moan from Shadow. As you two part, a single string of saliva bridges the gap. He hushes you, “Behave and sit pretty. You can do that, right?”

Entranced, you simply nod your head.

“Good. I promise I’ll take care of you,” Shadow whispers, pecking your cheek. A kiss is pressed to your neck, your throat, collarbone. One after the other, he leaves a trail of kisses leading all the way down to your abdomen.

The smell of your cunt already abuses Shadow’s nose. Hunger grows within him. Patience is a virtue; however, nothing will stop this unholy night. A finger hooks to the hem of your underwear. Delicately Shadow pulls them down, stopping inches from revealing your clit. His lips encapsulates the bud, giving it a gentle suck and a flick of his tongue. A quiet gasp is pulled from you. From there he rips off the thin fabric, tossing it off the bed carelessly.

“Hey! That was my favorite pair!” You complained in a huff.

Teeth graze your inner thighs, causing them to quiver with anticipation. Your concern about the small fabric disintegrated by a simple act. A low feint chuckle can be heard if you listened closely. The underside of your knees are propped up over Shadow’s shoulder after he pulls you down closer by the hip bones. A nip near your pussy elicits a squeal of pain mixed with pleasure. Just as you were about to playfully scold Shadow, a drawn out moan fills the bedroom. His tongue dances over your clit. With each suck, your back arches, chasing his lips. Claws dig into your flesh, drawing little beads of blood. A silent command telling you to hold still.

“Shaaaadow~!” You cry out. So many sensations tingling your skin.

He backs off for a moment, blowing onto the folds of your pussy. Instinctively your knees buckle together.

A quiet, “Hnph,” signals Shadow’s satisfaction in teasing you.

It couldn’t be helped. He’s so aggressive, intending to devour you. Tension builds up in your torso but not quite close to snapping. The folds of your pussy spread as Shadow’s tongue slides up the slit and enters. Drinking up every drop of nectar.

Meanwhile, his bottom half has been busy, rubbing itself against the mattress in a steady rhythm. Every time Shadow got close, he would cease his movements for a second before continuing. All of his cum was going to go inside you.

Time is at a standstill, staring at the bedroom wall. You concentrate on the assault his mouth is currently conducting. Hands cling onto the sheets for dear life as you try to obey Shadow.

“Ah— ah.. please..” you manage out, nearly breathless. He pauses. Darkened eyes look up, waiting for you to continue with your train of thought. The loss of contact allows cold air to hit your cunt.

“Please, what?” Shadow asks politely as if he wasn’t just nose deep in you, “What is it that you need?”

“I need more.. more friction”

Now towering over you, your legs are nearly pressed to your chest. His hands propped on either side of your head, supporting his weight. Shadow’s cock effortlessly sliding between your labia “Mmnh. You’re going to have to elaborate more than that.”

This fucker. Teasing your entrance. One fell swoop and it’ll go right in. Your pussy clenches nothing at the thought, bringing attention of just how empty you are. “Need more.. more friction, please. I need you inside. Please, Shadow.”

“Your wish is my command, darling.”

You should have known better to think he was going to start fucking you. No surprise that Shadow travels back down, sliding a single digit in. You can feel his smug grin against your sex when you hissed out of disappointment. Another finger is added in, curling against your walls. Shadow’s free hand splays atop your belly.

Oh, how your pussy glistened with your arousal. Sweet nectar drip onto the mattress, creating a lovely pool. It might stain after tonight. Your needy cunt clenches around his fingers. That familiar tension rises back up as Shadow sucks and French kisses your clit. So red, puffy, and sore. He’s absolutely proud of his work.

Before you knew it, praises began to tumble out. Your hand reaches down to grab Shadow’s hand, holding it tight. Legs quiver as his hand picks up the pace. A third finger slides in easily. Stars enter the edge of your vision. The familiar bedroom ceiling now turning into a night sky.

“Love, you’re going to crush my hand,” he laughs. His ministrations continue while he rises up to lay next to you. Both of his legs capturing one of your thighs. “Keep them open for me.”

Arms reach underneath, pulling Shadow into a hug. You beg and plead him, “I’m close— I’m so close. Shadow I’m going to cum. Fuck, let me cum please.” When your nails dig into his back, a pleasureful growl bubbles up from his throat. In efforts to silence it, Shadow’s lips crash into yours. The taste of your slick swirling around.

Your hips erratically buck into his fingers, chasing that high. Like a mirror shattering into a million pieces, you had come undone. Screams of ecstasy reaches the heavens even with your teeth buried into Shadow’s neck. Wet slapping follows suit as he guides you through your climax. “Music to my ears. Ah, you’ve done such a good job,” Shadow whispers into your ear, slowing down his movements but not quite stopping. Tears nearly form from the overstimulation. To let him know, you whimper, “Too much”, into his chest, nuzzling in.

When Shadow pulls out, a pathetic mewl escapes past your lips. Already, you miss the warm feeling in your pussy. He brings up his sodden fingers and licks it clean before lifting your chin up to give you another taste. During this little break Shadow’s giving you, a warm palm caresses your cheek, lightly stroking it.

“You better not be tired, yet. I’m not done with you”

Caged below his body, his cock, seeping with precum rests on the low part of your belly. Even though your body is still recovering, it can’t help but shake in anticipation.

A sticky trail leads down to your entrance. The tip just barely prodding the entrance. Your hips instinctively want squirm, allowing it in. Looks like Shadow noticed as well, because he backed away just out of reach. He wants you bad; however, watching your cute little face twist out of frustration was simply too entertaining.

Here you thought that Shadow would be the impatient one, waiting so long to fuck your brains out. How the hell has he been able to keep it together now that finally got what he needed? Well, Shadow’s mind has been teetering on the edge. Holding it together long enough so you’re also enjoying it too. Not only mindless fucking to reach his objective. You’re not merely a means to an end.

“There’s only two things you need to remember, okay? My name, and that you’re mine.” To emphasize the last two words, Shadow slams his cock in one fell swoop.

Once again his claws sink into the sheets and mattress below, unable to contain his fervor. Because your cunt didn’t have enough time to adjust and accommodate Shadow’s length, it squeezes him tight. The sensation was not unwelcome. Pain and pleasure dancing in a delicate tango.

A long breathy moan is accompanied by his own animalistic growl. He does his best in earnest to stay still, savoring the way your pussy stretched and clenched around his cock. “Fuck you’re so good to me,” he moans, “You don’t know how much I wanted you— needed you.”

Shadow’s hips slowly pull back just to thrust deep into you again. The sudden motion causes you to grip tightly onto forearms. Your head tosses back with a gasp.

It felt like you were made for him. Made for each other. He starts to pump into you. Ass bouncing from the force. Shadow’s gaze never leaves your face. Every little expression you make, he commits to memory. The way you have to keep prying your eyes off of his to keep from being hypnotized, entranced. When you bite the inside of your lip or open your mouth for a silent cry of pleasure. Your eyes squeezing shut and brows knitting together, as you violently turn your head from hitting that right spot.

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough!

Your ear is captured between his lips, nibbling and sucking on it. The sensation tickles. You giggle, finally letting out that breath you’ve been unconsciously holding. Shadow whispers into your ear, “Good.. make sure you’re breathing. I’m going to pull you in closer, okay?”

Your hands are removed from him as he sits up for a moment to adjust. In order to gain better access, you are folded up into a proper mating press. Legs hooked onto the crook of Shadow’s arms. Knees on either side of your head.

The new angle allows him to hit you deeper and with the way your hips are positioned will perfectly hold his cum in. Mercilessly, Shadow pounds into your little hole. Despite his best efforts to redirect his fangs, they continue to land on multiple spots along your collarbone and neck. Bruises and bite marks for everyone to see who you belong to.

With each thrust, his dick kisses your cervix.

It’s a good thing you didn’t live in an apartment, but you were sure the neighbors across the street could hear your screams of euphoria.

You looked so lovely. Heavenly, even. Shadow wonders how he was able to snag an angel like you. Those three little words, Shadow doesn’t say them often enough as he thinks he should. You understand. His actions speak volumes much louder.

At the pace Shadow is going at, he’s not going to last very long. Judging by the way your face is scrunched up and the tension in your nether regions, you’re in the same boat.

“Relax. Cum for me, my love.”

That’s all it took for you to unravel once again. Shadow is pulled in for a tight embrace as you call out his name, telling him how much you love him. Your sweet words melt his heart.

Trembling, quaking, your orgasm rips through your body while Shadow continues to snap his hips, his own climax following close behind. If you weren’t so cock drunk, you’d have heard “I love you” tumble from your partner. Words that come out of your mouth are no longer coherent but rather a giant babbling mess. Your cunt milks every single drop his cock has to offer. His movements slow down.

Shadow’s body isn’t satisfied. Even if he wanted to, his hips won’t stop. Not until he drowns your cervix in hot sticky cum. Filled to the brim until it starts leaking out even with his dick plunged deep in.

“You’re mine. All mine.”

Round one of many.

[sentoooo]

ᴏɴ ᴅᴜᴛʏ

✭ pairing(s): gallagher x gn afab reader

✩ inspo: im on my period

★ summary: gallagher has been oddly needy all day.

✧ a/n: i need gallagher in a way that would desecrate god's holiness. anyways i had fun with this one if you couldn't tell. enjoy.

🗒 cw: SMUT, afab reader, quickie(ish), porn no plot, dadbod gallagher cause i said so, mention of sexting, predator/prey if you squint, fingering, pet names ('baby', 'doll'), little manhandling, p in v, bathroom stall sex, creampie, not proofread

✎ wc:

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

Needy. That’s all Gallagher has been today. Normally, he doesn’t text you while he’s on duty, or at least, he doesn’t text you this much. Normally he checks in, strikes up a little conversation about how boring work is on his break, and then says he’ll see you at home later. Today, however, it felt like there was a text every minute. It started about halfway into his shift, with him asking you how things were at home. However, it quickly devolved from there, turning into sexting. He wasn’t shy, either. His texts went from ‘Can’t stop thinking about you’, to ‘I’m horny’, to describing all the things he wanted to do with you.

It’s not that you weren’t into it, it was just a little weird. You can’t deny that all the lewd things he was saying got to you, fanning the flames beneath your stomach. However, you were out running errands, and there was really no way to abate your own need. However, you couldn’t deny Gallagher, who just had such a stressful day, and needed a way to decompress. Perhaps you were just masochistic, but every one of his texts was met with an equally lewd one.

“Just want a piece of you. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”

While you yourself decided you could wait until he was off work, it seems like he had already made up his mind. Any other text you sent was left on delivered, so you assumed your hound had either chosen to jack off, or he was out sniffing for his target. Part of you wished he could keep the conversation going, a delicious build up to a wonderful night. What a shame, you think. But you’ll see him tonight, so you might as well not sulk.

You still have things to get done, anyways. No need to dwell on it, right? You’d keep your mind busy with the most un-arousing things before he came home, like cleaning… because you were almost out of cleaner in general, so you might as well keep your hands busy. With a huff, you put your phone in your pocket, making your way to the shopping outlet.

You are barely halfway into the store when a large hand pulls you in by the waist. You’d turn around and beat them senseless, but the minute your back hits their chest, you understand. You’d recognize those tits anywhere. You untense and huff, as Gallagher leans in, letting out his own sigh. Either out of relief or frustration, you couldn’t tell. But what you could tell was that he was still horny, seeing as Gallagher jr. was poking at your legs.

“Missed you,” He whispers gruffly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your neck, as if it was a totally normal thing. “Need you, actually. Real bad.”

You can tell.

“You’re on the clock though, right?” You turn to look up at him, doing your best to suppress the shiver that runs throughout your body. “Isn’t this like job ab–”

“Doesn’t matter. They think I’m looking for a suspect,” He does his best to be brief, hand falling to your side as he urges you to start walking. “Went looking for you. Couldn’t stop thinkin’, and, well… c’mon.”

Well, you aren’t going to say no. So, you follow his lead to a bathroom, and before you even get to ask what he’s up to, he’s practically shoving you into a stall. You can’t complain, however, because the bathroom is so pristinely clean, it puts all else to shame. The cleanliness of a Buca Di Beppo bathroom, without the overstimulating amount of celebrity pictures hung up on the walls.

Gallagher wastes no time, his calloused hand slipping underneath the band of your pants and underwear, while his other works on the buttons of his jeans. His hand is so close, yet he doesn’t stray an inch further. All he does behind you is grunt as he struggles out of his jeans.

“Found you,” He murmurs, pressing his nose into your neck like he’s missed your scent. “Gonna make you feel real good, just like this.”

The seat of your underwear is wet, even as he simply just huffs behind you, content to toy with you like this. He begins to place feverish, sloppy kisses down your neck, to your shoulder, before finally freeing himself of his pants. He moans against your skin as he begins to rut against your ass near immediately, pushing you further against his stomach as his hand deigns to reach further. A warm, calloused finger finders your clit, pressing against it and drawing lazy circles as he does so.

“Mmm…” He hums, his breath heavy and hot. “Missed this sweet thing… if I could do more…”

A pitiful moan slips past your lips as he touches you, every little kiss making you whine. The ‘Gallagher Effect’ you’ve aptly named this, any little stray touch and lingering gaze is enough to make you weak in the knees. Anywhere, at almost any time. It makes you feel needy and helpless, but in all the right ways.

He dips a finger in, letting out a soft groan at the feel of your velvety walls. You bring a hand up to your mouth to muffle your moans, eyes fluttering shut as he pumps his digit slowly, heat flaring under your skin. It doesn’t take long for him to add another digit, your walls clamping around both with such ease. He chuckles lowly behind you, a soft and rumbling sound that only serves to ignite some sort of primal need within you. If only it all could last forever… but he has other plans.

He pulls his fingers out no sooner than he pushed them in, leaving you feeling a little dull, a whiny ‘noooo’ slipping from your lips. He ignores your plea, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and lapping up what he could, before pulling your pants and underwear down in one go. The cold air sinks into your skin, melding with the heat, an oddly comforting sting. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close and hoisting you up just a little, so he can seat his cock comfortably against your entrance. He teases you with the head for the briefest moment, a pearl of precum mixing with your slick.

“Gotta be quick, baby.” He huffs, before pushing in deliciously slowly. You squirm a little, shutting your eyes tight and willing yourself to shut up as he pushes himself all the way to the hilt.

Gallagher’s hands find purchase on your hips, digging his fingers into the plush of your skin as his own body relaxes. He hasn’t even started moving yet and he’s whimpering, like somehow he was a virgin. Still, such a reaction from him makes your walls flutter, to have such a man as imposing as Gallagher whine with his cock buried in your pussy, it made you feel powerful in some way.

After he seemed to have settled, he slowly begins to move you, grinding against you as he does his best to fuck up into you. It may have not been the most comfortable position, but his cock hit all the right spots, making you clench around him. He’s agonizingly slow, despite his comment, his forehead tucked away in the crook of your neck. Your hand muffles the soft moans that fall from your lips, breathing heavy with every thrust. His cock drags against your walls with every half-thrust, a kiss placed against your skin to make up for something so sloppy. Normally, he took his time with you, teasing you as much as he could (though he could never deny your pleas).

However, it seems he wasn’t satisfied with the position, as much as he wanted to chase after his own pleasure. With a grunt of effort (as if pulling out was some sort of great act of offense to him), he pulls out. You do your best not to complain, as he urges you to turn around. Quickly, he leans down and hooks an arm underneath your thigh, hoisting it up in a way that would give him more leverage. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning further against him. This was a much more comfortable position, especially the fact that you could see his face. He’s got a sleazy grin, a soft blush covering his features, as his eyes roaming over your face.

“Get a good look, yeah?” He chuckles, before leaning in and pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. With that, his tips glides against your pussy once more, before pushing back in, much easier this time. He swallows every moan and whimper of yours, beginning to fully thrust, his pace much faster this time. It’s dizzying, almost, enough to make your eyes roll back as his tip pushes against your g-spot with every thrust.

He pulls back just enough to catch his breath, his breathing ragged and heavy as he continues his pace. His hands are warm, his cock is warm, his body is warm. You are warm. You bite your lip as your breathing comes in brisk huffs, your legs trembling ever so slightly. His fingers run along the stretchmarks on the inside of your thigh, his grin growing more proud. Every other second brings you closer, and closer…

You can’t help but arch your back, pressing up against his stomach once more which is such pleasant stimulation. His grin falters as you flutter around him once more, his balls tightening. He goes from cocky to whiny within an instant, lips parted and face flushed.

“Doll, M’gonna…” He warns, his thrusts stuttering and pace becoming sloppy. His nails dig into the plush of your thigh, and you can’t ward off the pressure mounting below your stomach.

He chokes out more strained huffs before leaning in for another kiss, much more needy as his tongue presses against yours, once more taking in every little sound of yours as if he owns them all. It doesn’t take you too long to come, heat shooting up your body with a pleasant tingle as the pressure releases in a most euphoric way, cumming onto his cock. He is not far behind, letting out an audible groan that slips past both of your lips, echoing in the (hopefully) empty bathroom. A rush of warmth floods your insides, Gallagher’s normally strong grip wavering, pulling back as his body jerks, releasing the last bit of pent up frustration.

After a couple more moments, he slowly pulls out, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. He’s always been sappy after sex, all softened up by his orgasm. Post nut clarity hits hard, however, and after a couple of pants, he pulls away. Not before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, one that contrasted the heated one moments prior.

“M’sorry, got ahead of myself,” He mutters, shaking his head, while hoisting up his boxers and pants. He doesn’t even take the time to wipe off his dick. “Didn’t mean to… well, didn’t mean to start all of this.”

You do your best to protest, nudging him as you lean against the wall. All you can do is take a couple more moments to catch your breath as his release dripped down your leg, something that felt near shameful as your own clarity hit you.

“You okay?” Despite such lewd acts, he still has the mind to check in on you. It doesn’t matter if he’s still on duty, he isn’t just going to up and leave you.

“Yeah,” You nod, waving him off. “Glad I could help, but you should–” you chuckle, before shuffling around him to sit down on the toilet, “– get back to work. I’m fine.”

“... Right. Well, I guess I’m off,” He sighs, as if he’s disappointed he has to leave you so soon. He did this to himself, really. “I’ll bring home some dinner from your favorite place, okay? Thank you again. Sorry–”

You wave him off once more, a little annoyed by his apologies. This man just came in you, and now he’s a step close to groveling like answering to his sexual needs was a sin. How could such an intimidating man– the head of the Bloodhound’s, even– get so pathetic? Not that you hated it, no, it was kind of funny. You had him wrapped around his finger. Perhaps he’d remember to bring some condoms, next time, if he was so upset over cumming in you.

Gallagher leans back down to bid you farewell with another kiss, before leaving the stall. You sit there for a minute, shaking your head. It wasn’t disappointing at all, and the more you thought about it, the lighter you felt. It was kinda fun. And, if anything, Gallagher was getting paid for it. The thought of that made you chuckle softly. Now, you felt like you really couldn’t complain. He gets paid for sex. And you get some dinner out of it, free of charge. What a wonderful existence…

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | discord server | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2, part 3

Wayne stays at the hospital longer than he should. Rubbing his fingers along Eddie’s pick necklace like a rosary. Hoping that if he just prays hard enough, if his voice can be heard, Eddie will wake up. 

The prognosis isn’t great. Each day that passes marks another day where his chances of waking up get lower. Even though many people have woken up from medically induced comas much later than this. According to the doctors. According to the pamphlets given to him at the start of all of this shit. But those are just words. Words he doesn’t believe fully. 

Six days with no changes. No improvement. Just a tube to make sure he’s breathing regularly and an IV to make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation. The doctors say that his brain still shows activity, and his heart hasn’t missed a beat since he was last revived. Eddie’s alive, but just how much?

How much longer will Wayne sit in this agony waiting for him to wake up? Or how long until the string of hope just ends six feet under? 

Religion was something that Wayne dealt with sporadically. He was raised Catholic, sort of still is a practicing Catholic. Goes to church when he isn’t too tired, still prays, and goes to confession sometimes. Just didn’t always make sense. But now, it’s all he’s got. 

Eddie’s in God’s hands now. Whether that’s the God in the Bible, or some other deity of the many other religions in the world, Wayne doesn’t care anymore. As long as he’s heard, and this being knows his boy is good. That he was taken far too soon. 

Eddie liked to say there was nothing much for him past high school. That he was going to run out of town as soon as he could and fight to make something of himself. Be a struggling musician, find odd jobs. Anything to keep him out of the monotony of a corporate job. Get him away from the conservative views and stuffiness of this town. Somehow get big enough to prove them all that he wasn’t a failure. Or never come back to prove them all right. 

It would be a sad day when Eddie finally left for good. The trailer would seem empty without the life that Eddie brought. The peace and quiet that Wayne always asked for not bringing any peace because it was too damn quiet. He knew this now because it’s what’s keeping him here each day. 

The beeping of the heart monitor was like the heart beating in his chest. Some noise came from Eddie to prove that he was alive. Almost like he was acting himself again. The motel room he was staying in was too quiet. No music down the hall, no clanking around the kitchen, no yelling at the TV or a book. Just the occasional noise if there were neighbors and people driving to the hospital. It was all the wrong noise, though. 

“Excuse me,” a nurse says as she enters the room. “Visiting hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Wayne nods, getting up from his chair. Back screaming as it pops itself back into place. It’s his day off, or night off tonight, so he can actually sleep. If it ever comes to him. Might be one of those nights where the ceiling and him have a staring contest. He’s been close, but never quite won one of those yet. 

The Chief’s car sits outside of the motel as Wayne pulls up. It’s only been a day since they spoke last, there can’t be that many updates. Wayne can’t think of any other reason he’s here. 

Wayne invites him into the motel room, the urge to offer him a drink screaming at him, but he has none to give. Hospitality doesn’t come with the room fees. 

“I’m guessing there’s something new, that’s why you're here.”

“Not necessarily. I’m still trying, but until the one guy I normally negotiate with comes out of hiding, that’s when the real talking happens.”

Wayne sits down on one of the chairs, too tired to keep standing. “Why’re you here then?”

“To check on you. I know the hospital life well. It’s no picnic, especially if you’re doing it alone.” He pulls another one of the chairs over to sit down. 

There’s no lie in that. “I’m about as good as anyone could think.”

The Chief pulls two beers out from under his coat, handing one to Wayne. He takes it faster than any beer he has in his life. Pulling out his pocket knife to take off the cap. 

“How long till that friend of yours comes out of hiding?”

Hopper shrugs. “Don’t know. Sent him a few threatening letters, and he still owes me one, so we’ll see. If things were better here, I’d go hunt the man down myself.”

Wayne nods. The company’s nice, he can’t lie. Sitting in solidarity with someone who knows what you’ve been through. Making sure nothing’s going worse than it already is. Like a sponsor through the hospital proceedings. 

When the sun finally finishes setting, the chief excuses himself. Not before handing Wayne a slip of paper with his number on it, just in case anything happens. 

The more days go by, the more Wayne is reminded that he’s not alone in this. Not fighting this battle alone. People believe him, more than just kids. People with influence. It shows in how people keep coming in and out of the hospital room. Saying how they know he’s innocent. That he’s guilty of some things, but not this. 

It makes him think back to that afternoon, snapping at the Harrington kid. It’s so easy to be angry at people who are better off, in so many ways, that vision gets blinded. Seeing someone who went through something similar to Eddie get out, and be conscious while his boy is still asleep. Probably will never have to worry about hospital bills and medical debt. It makes him angry. 

Even if the kid doesn’t deserve it. Wayne has no clue who this kid is and how he knows Eddie. Why he claims to have been there in the week Eddie was missing. What it all means. It doesn’t make any sense. None at all. 

But then the next morning when he’s getting coffee, there’s the kid again coming in beside Dustin. Talking to someone at the front desk before heading down the hall. Right to the elevator, and up to the floor Eddie’s on. 

Wayne heads back to the room, ready to kick him out again or apologize. He’s not sure yet. But, the room is empty. Steve is instead down the hall, talking to Susan Mayfield. Looking serious as hell, and halfway ready to cry. 

Another kid comes out of the room, one who’s stopped by a few times to check on Eddie. Lucas, Wayne thinks is his name. Remembers it only because Eddie had ranted a few times about some kid named Lucas trying to be on both the basketball team and part of the Dragons club. 

The kid says something to Steve before he’s being wrapped in a hug and starts crying. Steve just holding him as this kid breaks down. Presumably about the person behind those doors. Wayne assumes it’s probably Susan’s kid. Remembers hearing that she was in bad shape. Hopefully, that didn’t get any worse. 

Wayne returns to his room, not wanting to intrude. A nurse comes in a while later and asks him to step out for a bit. 

“What for?”

“Eddie’s breathing has improved over the last twenty-four hours. The doctor came in to check on him early this morning, and said that if by noon it was the same, the breathing tube could come out.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wayne’s hesitant to believe anything these days. 

The nurse nods. “As long as his oxygen levels stay, well level, then yes. It means that his body is well on the way to recovery.”

Wayne nods, taking his coffee to the waiting room. There, he just waits.

Next part

Note: The next part of this will get a bit interesting. I've been having ideas for a while now of making this duel POV between Wayne and someone else, maybe Steve. Mainly because I keep thinking of conversations that would happen, but Wayne would be nowhere to witness it. But I think what this fic needs is a POV not directly in the main relationship that will be happening, to keep it an outsider POV fic. So I'm thinking that the second POV would be from either Robin or Dustin. I'm currently deciding between the two so let me know what you think. I'm also going to start posting this to ao3, and will provide the link to that once I think of a title. I will continue to post the smaller parts here on tumblr, and you will not be missing out on any of the story if you only follow it on here. For now all of the parts will also have the tag #morgan's wayne POV. If that changes, as it probably will since this is no longer just a wayne POV fic, I will let you know. Also, Max is alive, they just got a heavy diagnosis that you will learn of later.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs

[ugh-yoongi]

Soft, romantic and drunk bf Yoongi waking you up by going down on you when he gets in late after a night of drink (with OT7/ after suchwita/ whatever) in which he could not stop thinking about you and your pussy.

I can even give inspo: tu mbl r.co m/poutyniall/714256286018142208/tongue-technology

yeah hey hi hello thanks for sending this. after only receiving PG requests this really sent me into a spiral.

crescendo

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used, but gendered terms are used for genitalia) genre: established relationship au; smut, fluff warnings: alcohol, swearing, yoongi is tipsy and just a horny pining disaster, previously discussed and consenting somnophilia, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k listen to: middle of the night by elley duhé

Amongst his group of friends, Yoongi is the only one who gets like this when he’s drunk.

Some people regress and act half their age (Seokjn). Some people are overly-affectionate and stumble over compliments (Jimin). Some people try to pick philosophical debates over the point at which bread ceases to be bread and becomes toast (Namjoon). Some people bypass the philosophical entirely and go straight to the conspiratorial (Taehyung). Some people take one sip and slump over in the booth, moaning that they’re half-dead (Hoseok). Finally, some people don’t even bother to show up, because they’re too busy staying home and playing Overwatch to check their texts (Jungkook).

Yoongi, though—Yoongi gets horny.

The kind of horny that has him looking away each time someone’s tongue darts out to catch a stray drop of alcohol. The kind of horny that has him doing complex mathematical equations in his head to determine if he could conceivably lock himself in a bathroom stall and get it out of his system before anyone becomes suspicious. The kind of horny that has him sending you half-legible text messages under the table, detailing every dirty thing he wants to do to you, despite the fact you told him hours ago you were going to shower and go to sleep.

Fuck. He needs to get out of here.

“Aw, look at Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin teases, and everyone except Hoseok creates a chorus of laughter. Yoongi’s cheeks burn, made worse by the garish yellow-red lights of this bar. “I can’t decide if I should be jealous or concerned.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Why would you be concerned, Jimin-ah? Sex is a normal, beautiful thing, and it’s absolute bullshit that people use it as a point of shame—”

“Yeah, okay, that’s my cue,” Seokjin says around a fake gag. “Who had the tab tonight? Just send me a request—”

“You had the tab, you fucker—”

Seokjin hears none of it. Just says, “Mm, bye,” and then he’s gone. Which is Yoongi’s cue too, because he’s the second-oldest and therefore second in command, and the rest of them won’t even hesitate to stick him with the bill because it happens every single time it’s Seokjin’s turn to pay.

So he lies. Says, “Hyung will pay it in a minute. Gotta piss first,” and stumbles out the back.

He’ll hear about it later, if not from his four dongsaengs then certainly his ancestors, but he needs to be home. Needs to feel you spread out beneath him—your sleep-warmed skin, still soft from your shower, the scent of your body wash stubbornly clinging on. Needs to press his lips to every inch of it. Needs the smell and taste of you overwhelming him. Needs to hear all those little sounds you make.

The longer this taxi ride drags on, the more paranoid he becomes. Can the driver tell how fucked up he is in his backseat? Can he see the way Yoongi’s fingers are gripping the worn leather? How desperately he’s trying to keep quiet every time something explicit plays in his memory? He’d understand, Yoongi thinks; he’d understand if he knew you, saw you. He wouldn’t be able to blame Yoongi at all.

Seoul passes by in a blur, all neon reds and blues and whites. Everything is still so alive, even at this god-forsaken hour, and it makes him dizzy. Has his head spinning. He’s drunk and he’s horny and he just wants to be next to you.

Somehow, he manages to dig his phone out of his pocket despite how tight they’ve grown over the last hour. Goes straight to his texts, pointedly ignores all the ones in the groupchat yelling at him and Seokjin, and presses on your name. He’s less drunk now than he was before, but the messages still don’t make sense. Yoongi groans, throws his head back against the seat. Next time he’s just going to skip the bullshit and send you pictures. No use speaking in tongues when hieroglyphics could work much better.

The next five minutes play out like this: the taxi stops outside your building, Yoongi hands over a stack of money that’s undoubtedly too thick, he stumbles up the steps two at a time, so close yet still too far away.

And then there’s the door.

“This okay, baby?”

A nip of teeth at the junction of your thigh. Hands gripping at your waist, fingers dimpling your skin. Warm breath ghosting over your wet cunt. Yoongi’s head between your thighs as he kneels on the bed. You’re unsure if you’re conscious or not, but as you tangle your hands in Yoongi’s soft hair, you decide it doesn’t matter.

So you nod, angle your hips closer to Yoongi’s face. A whisper-soft gasp when he presses a kiss to your thigh, one to your clit; a strangled moan when you feel him smile against you before flattening his tongue and licking a stripe up your slit.

“Fuck,” he groans, doing it again, pulling away only long enough to say, “thought about this pussy all fucking night. You taste so good.”

Yoongi indulges in your body the way other people indulge in vices: incessantly, obsessively. But you aren’t a vice, are you? You’re not something to be ashamed of; not something wicked. As Yoongi continues working you over with his mouth, so sloppy and overeager you can feel it dampening the sheets beneath you, it feels like reverence.

It isn’t long before the heat starts simmering in your belly. Not long before everything starts feeling overwhelming; before your visions starts blurring at the edges. “Yoong, I’m—”

He hums against your core. Sucks hard once at your clit, and then you’re tumbling over the edge. “Goddamn, I love you,” Yoongi says into your skin. “That’s it, give it to me, baby, I love you.”

It feels predestined.

[maximotts]

☽ 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖘 ☾

☾ 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑: private hire!WandaNat

So @nats-firefly and I discussed this idea way before October, but brought it up again when I mentioned wanting to do a ph!WandaNat thing and now.. here we are.. filth amongst sleepy gays

private hire AU. kinktober masterlist. 18+ only, minors dni. you don’t need to add community labels, I’ve put adequate warnings below.

wc: 4.5k. cw: smut that starts out fluffy, but Wanda gets irritated. kinda cuddly sex. groping. fingering. punishments/attention denial. humiliation/degradation in the form of being babied. brief oral. overstim. typical Nat annoying Wanda. bratty reader bc people are always asking to see what would happen if you pushed Wanda's limits.

No outside clothes on the bed.

One of Wanda’s few house rules and generally easy to follow… until you were exhausted and she was snapping her fingers at you before you could take a second step towards her mattress.

Typically if you were too tired to seek out pajamas you’d suck it up and fall into your own bed, passing out until you gained energy to sort yourself out in the morning, but tonight was different. Your shift was long and felt even longer, filled with coworker mishaps and annoying customers that left you checking your watch every few minutes towards the end of the night. All you dreamt of on the ride home was Wanda and her warm bed, knowing she’d most likely be up despite the late hour. 

She had the tendency to worry; no matter how even-tempered she appeared, Wanda stayed up as late as she could for Natasha, and now you as well, to come home to her. You’d headed out earlier than your normal shifts, just after midnight, and with your boss always being notified the moment you left work, there was no doubt Wanda would be wide awake.

As expected, you found Wanda in her bedroom, nose deep in a book. She looked so happy to see you, you thought maybe you could skirt by her standards just this once-

“Don’t you dare get those dirty clothes anywhere near my new comforter.” 

“Wandaaaaa…” You groaned like a child, halfway to stamping your foot if you didn’t know that’d get you kicked out instantly. “I’m exhausted! It won’t ruin anything just once.”

But no amount of puppy dog pouts could make Wanda budge; the woman was so stubborn for the smallest things. You’d seen Natasha tease her for it, and even then, she stood firm; apparently there was a time when Wanda didn’t care, but once she started buying stuff of her own, she was intent on keeping it in order. “Not a chance. I can see at least three different cocktails spilled on your shirt! Get rid of the clothes or say goodnight and go to your bed.”

“So unfair…” The wardrobe across the room felt like too far of a journey, but you’d looked forward to the warmth of Wanda too much to deny yourself now. Before you knew it, you’d begun shedding your clothes, kicking them away into a lazy pile on the floor and wandering back over to your goal. 

Unexpected as it was, the sight of you tiredly stripping down amused Wanda and she didn’t stop you from sliding into bed, chuckling at your silly display of wiggling around until you successfully crawled on top of her fully clothed form. “Well aren’t you clever? Always trying to find yourself a loophole.”

“I like to think that’s what you love me for.” Tired arms wrapped around Wanda’s middle, resting your chin on her chest to gaze up at the older woman. Sleeping naked wasn’t your plan, but the act wasn’t unfamiliar, particularly in this room. Most of the time, though you got into bed wearing some kind of sleepwear, either Wanda or Natasha found a reason to take them off, anything from claiming to want a simple look to being straightforward in their desire to stake their obvious claim on you.

“I love you for a great many things, little one.” She let her book gently bop the top of your head before setting it aside on the nightstand, happy to give you her full attention. Spending the day alone wasn’t awful, but she missed you and Nat terribly, always preferring to be with at least one of you when she fell asleep.

The two of you settled into an easy embrace, Wanda drawing patterns over your bare back as you cuddled against her soft silken pajamas. Even back in silence like she’d been before your arrival, Wanda felt different, lighter, knowing she could hold you safe and her wife was on her way too. “How was your night? I got updates about some out of line people… I hope no one gave you too hard of a time.”

You shook your head, your frustrations melting away now that you were snuggled up to Wanda. It all seemed so far away while you were laid safe in your bosses’ cozy bedroom. “Nothing terrible, just felt like it lasted forever. It’s the Halloween crowd madness starting up, I think…” 

The brunette nodded and listened as you went through details, throwing in a comment or two when needed; engaged even as her hands began wandering. She didn’t realize what she was doing at first, smoothing over the indulgent feel of your delicate skin. You were always just so pliant and willing; honestly, she decided you deserved a reward for following her rules with the last bits of your energy. Wanda loved knowing you’d chosen her over sleeping across the hall; it was hard to stay firm when she was also tired of sitting by herself, but if she gave in once, she’d never hear the end of it.

It started out innocent enough that you didn’t question her, overexerted muscles enjoying the gentle massage of your ass and thighs. By the time Wanda pushed your hips up to make room for her hand, you’d been pacified into a calm state of security all you offered was a pleased hum when she stroked over your mound. “You’ve done so much today. It’s about time you let me take care of you now.”

“Mhm..” She drew you in for a kiss, fluffy and sweet, mindful of your exhaustion. Wanda was always cautious of your state of mind, her considerate coddling making it easy for her to know exactly what you needed. If you needed her to take away all memories of her bad night, who was she to deny you? 

Annoying as it’d been to be stopped on your way to bed, getting out of your work clothes did feel better and now you’d reap the benefits of choosing Wanda. Her touch was slow, sliding over center more to slowly work you up rather than to tease, like easing into a warm bath. “Thank you, mommy.”

“Of course, baby. You earned it for how hard you worked.” Her continued praise left you hiding your giggles in her chest, a dumb smile stamped on your features as Wanda dipped her first finger past your entrance. Rarely was Wanda this affectionate with you during sex, but she’d have to remember to do so more often, if only for how cute you looked right now. “I think someone likes being told they did a good job.”

“Maybe a little?” Your love of her acknowledgement was well known, there was no use denying it, but your sleepiness put you in a sillier mood— one that in turn rendered you more playful.

Oddly enough tonight, Wanda also happened to be relaxed enough to feed into it. “Something tells me it’s more than a little.” She fingered you open steadily, no rush to her movements, content to keep her mission slow for the time being. “If how desperately you’re squeezing my finger is any clue, you like it a lot…” 

You mumbled some noncommittal response, squeaking as Wanda pushed further. It was way too little, but you were unwilling to speed up whatever the two of you had fallen into, much more interested in letting Wanda do what she pleased and seeing where it went. “Fine, I do like it when you tell me you like the work I do..”

“Good girl!” This time when she kissed you, she tugged your lip between her teeth, sucking at it until the red matched the flush of your cheeks. She was so happy to have someone who caught on quickly and so easily accepted doing things her way; Natasha always put up a fight, you were a lovely change of pace. “What else would you like? Another finger?”

“Yes! Yes please!” Pretending not to be interested in that suggestion would only hurt you, the much desired stretch of her long digits too tantalizing to pass up. Low on willpower, you easily went docile, letting Wanda’s care drive away the day’s anxieties.

You wiggled happily as her second finger joined the first, legs spreading as far as you could get them. Maybe you were being terribly obvious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when this was exactly what you’d longed to come home and experience. “I still would’ve made you take off your clothes, but if you needed this, you could’ve asked.” 

Wanda thrusted into you harder now, bottoming out each time and like clockwork your moans came in tandem. She was so deep, you already felt so full, but still your hips rocked into her hand, unabashed in trying to find the perfect angle. “Wanted you all night.. To have you hold me and make me feel good.” 

It was true; falling into bed naked would almost always lead to something like this, but the how was forever a fun surprise. Wanda misjudged your ability to plot this out, but wouldn’t apologize for her predictable handsy nature; what fun was having a girlfriend if she couldn’t keep her hands on you whenever she pleased? 

“And you didn’t feel like asking so you figured you’d wait for me?” Wanda’s fingers curled and you nodded frantically, both answering her question and encouraging her to keep going. She did it again and again, letting her fingers stay put while your desperation grew; Wanda wasn’t particularly bothered by your little con, but she’d hate to let you fully get over on her. 

Free hand traveling from your backside to your chin, Wanda grabbed your face and tapped your temple, forcing your attention. “Look at me if you’re going to properly own up to your trickery.”

Meeting Wanda’s gaze was nearly impossible with how turned on you were, her sharp green eyes against her soft, makeup free face was just so.. beautiful— and you’re hopeless with pretty women. “I’m sorry, mommy. Can I still cum?”

“You’re bold enough to think you were ever allowed without asking?” Once in a while Wanda feared Natasha was right: she bent too easily whenever it came to you. Judging as her voice may sound, Wanda wouldn’t have thought twice about letting you carry on. With how distracted she’d become with your darling behavior, the biggest reprimand would’ve been a pat on the back before letting you fall asleep on her chest as if she’d never set a single rule for you. 

Wanda hated admitting Nat was right. “Don’t tell me you’re too tired to remember how to behave.”

“No! No, I’m not, please!” Wanda might’ve been in bed before you’d arrived, but she was far from asleep and while your version of playful was sweet, hers could easily be brash. She’d discovered your plan, fine, but you hadn’t planned for Wanda feeling anything but surprised. If she wanted to, your girlfriend would torment you for hours. Enduring any kind of punishment tonight would be torturous in your already exhausted state. “I wasn’t, I promise!”

“I know, baby, I know,” she cooed, kissing your quivering lips. You whined into her mouth as her hand sped up, as if Wanda suddenly decided to hurdle you towards orgasm, and your poor fatigued brain had to fight to keep up. “Sometimes you just get so sleepy and it’s hard to remember to ask out loud, yeah?”

It was an excuse both of you leaned on, you to appear like you hadn’t meant to overstep and Wanda to be able to point at your sleep deprivation when Natasha inevitably asked why you felt so emboldened to act out in the next few days.

“I forgot, I’m sorry… won’t do it again.” The gentleness of her words always charmed you, seeing Wanda’s soft side that was reserved for only you and her wife turning you on effortlessly. “Please, so close…”

Her thumb rolled over your neglected clit and your entire body shuddered, clinging onto Wanda as tight as you could. Fortunately for her, you didn’t have enough strength to restrict her breathing. “I wish you could feel how soaked my hand is right now, poor messy thing. If I let you cum, will you make those pretty noises I love hearing?”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” The words came out smashed together, too preoccupied with Wanda curling her fingers in sync with her thumb, setting a pattern so mind numbing you didn’t realize your eyes had rolled back until the brunette dug her nails into the nape of your neck— nor did you hear Natasha walking through the door.

“How many times have I warned you not to promise her that?” 

You startled at the extra hand on your head as it ruffled your messy hair before holding you still enough to kiss your temple. Natasha smelled earthy, like she’d been hunting in the woods; a stark contrast from where you last talked to her at the bar downtown. “Three hours ago when I saw you, you told me you felt dead on your feet, but refused to be sent home too early. Is Wanda keeping you up?”

“Yes, b-but I…” All at once you were keenly aware of how vulnerable you looked laid limply on Wanda, begging to cum as pitifully as a neglected pet. Nat had seen you like this and worse too many times to count, but being caught right on the edge left you shy. 

“But she came home looking for it,” Wanda finished for you, pinching your thigh before you tried to pin your wanton display all on her. “Pajamas were too hard for our hard-worker to get to, but she wanted to sleep with me so she went with nothing because she’s smart enough to know it’s better to give me what I want.”

“More like I’ve taught her how to choose her battles when it comes to you.” The redhead didn’t force you to pull your gaze from where you hid your face in Wanda’s chest, choosing to smooth out the stray hairs she’d given you and while the gesture was sweet, both women pretty much babying you was overwhelming. 

She wasn’t wrong, having learned either firsthand or from Nat’s instruction what was worth challenging versus when compliance was mandatory; she insisted there’d be a day when she could break Wanda of her bed linen obsessions. Both reasons your bosses gave you sounded submissive to one or the other, there was no use in acting tough when they were currently fawning over you like a lost lamb…

Silly as you were, you tried. “I was just sleepy.”

“Yeah? So sleepy you were begging for my fingers? Don’t try telling me you just wanted to sleep on them.” The idea shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, but you were adjusting before you could convince yourself not to, pushing Wanda’s fingers deeper where they’d retreated from your entrance. Nat couldn’t see it, but Wanda could feel the subtle movement, digits brought back into wet warmth you were suddenly intent on denying existed and it occurred to her then you had a bit of a stubborn streak as well.

Nothing she and Natasha couldn’t conquer though. “We just had a little chat about being upfront about what you want. Surely you’d tell me if all you wanted was to go to bed, sweetheart.”

But you were too busy throwing the comforter over your head, shrouding yourself from head to toe. “You started touching me.”

Wanda and Natasha’s dual bombardment was dizzying, enough to leave you fighting not to grab Wanda’s wrist and move it yourself. They were too observant, knew exactly what buttons to push when you were in a certain headspace; when you came home stressed like tonight, they’d seen how much better off you were after you let go, but often you needed a little help getting there.

Wanda got you close, but Nat’s sudden appearance threw you off and now she was back to square one. It wasn’t any lack of security around her -you loved Nat as much as you did Wanda and always felt safe with both of them- you, again stubbornly, always wanted to feel like you were impressing the redhead. The couple joked about it often, how quick you were to turn to Natasha and search her typically stoic face for any sign of amusement; with even the faintest hint of a smile the pair swore they saw hearts fill your eyes. “She’s had enough of you, Wanda. Give her a break.”

“Oh boo hoo,” Wanda scoffed, sticking her tongue out at the woman standing next to her, “you always go so shy around her, wanting to look cool. She can be just as submissive as you are right now, trust me.”

“I am not!” There were some things you’d see less than a handful of times in your life; a submissive Natasha was one of them. 

“There you go, denying it just as hard as this one.” Wanda laughed loud enough to jostle you, chest bubbling with laughter under your hot cheek. She went back to rubbing your back with one hand, trying to comfort you amongst her blatant enjoyment of your predicament. Still her fingers stayed between your legs, stroking your folds lazily and confirming it was the very mortification you suffered that soaked you further.

Natasha made your same mistake, presuming Wanda was too preoccupied to bother with her sheets; she got as far as a welcome home kiss from her wife before a warning once over wordlessly directed her to get rid of her dirty leather jacket and scuffed jeans. “Yeah yeah, I’m going to change. Worry about that wiggly thing you’ve got weighing you down. I think you’ve summoned a blanket creature.”

“Aww, mommy’s little ghost,” she mocked, nuzzling her head atop yours before setting her wrist back to work. You’d been on the brink of something so blissful just moments before, it was all too easy to bring you back there. Even if you insisted on hiding from her and Nat now. “What’s the matter? You were just fucking yourself silly on my hand.”

“Nuh uh,” You wanted to sound more defiant than you had, but your voice sounded shaky and small. The futile attempt only brought more laughter to the pair, having unwittingly become their nightly entertainment. 

“No? You’re not a very good liar.” One of Wanda’s most prominent shortcomings was her impatience, a facet that heavily influenced when you and Natasha backed off and let her be. Not only did you forget to account for that now, you’d taken her earlier gentleness for granted instead of recognizing it for the reward it was: two missteps you were too dazed to notice drew on her fragile patience. 

“If you admit it, I’ll drive you wherever you want tomorrow.” She was trying so hard to stay careful with you despite how close she was to the end of her own rope, but all you came back with was a bullish shake of your head. “We can get your favorite pizza and try out that milkshake bar you keep trying to drag us to-”

“Oh yes, surely bargaining with your brat of a ghost will make her behave better!” Nat must’ve wandered into the closet based on how far away she sounded, too far to argue with even if you did want to dig yourself a deeper hole by defying both your girlfriends. 

“Shut up, Tasha, you’re such a pain.” It was a muttered jab, Wanda now bored of arguing and your withdrawal. So what if she had to coax you into it, she missed watching your sweet, unguarded face fall apart before her. She tried not to hold it against you too much; obviously you were so worn out you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but she couldn’t shake her annoyance completely. 

Playing nice wasn’t working anymore; maybe you’d settle faster if she let you be as invisible as you’re pretending. “She wasn’t difficult until you got here. I think showing off to you so much is making her pick up bad habits.”

“I don’t have bad habits- fuck…!” She shut you up with a too far thrust, fingertips pressing painfully deep. You weren’t a brat, not to Natasha and certainly not to Wanda, tired hips finally trying to match the latter’s motions just to prove you were ready to be cooperative again, but you’d blown your chances for Wanda’s grace and now she wasn’t listening.

Despite your denial, Wanda let you finish for the sole purpose of making you feel how obvious of a lie you’d spun. “Ignore me all you want, but we all know what your needy little cunt was after.”

You were certain she’d shove you off, roll you over, something with how she might as well have spat her last sentence at you, but instead of the absence of her, you got more. Wanda didn’t let up for a second, pistoning in and out all while settling into a casual conversation with her wife who’d just flopped down on the opposite side of the bed.

“I-I’m…” Oh. Wanda’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit like it was nothing more than a fidget toy, flicking back and forth while you fought a losing battle over control of your body. You pawed at her clumsily, legs scrambling for purchase as you tried to lift up for just a second and break free, but all your struggles were no match for Wanda’s strength. “Mommy?”

No response. For you, at least. Wanda was busy locking lips with Natasha, a quick squeak of her own pulled as Nat nipped along the corners of her mouth. “I wish you could’ve seen all of the costumes today, Tasha. I sent pictures, but with no text back I assumed you were busy all day.” 

She had to hear you, impossible to miss with how you not only called out her name repeatedly but kissed apologies along her sternum, pleading for acknowledgement. And yet, Wanda didn’t seem to spare you a single thought. Her hands stayed firm on either side of your lower half, one splayed over the small of your back to keep you still and the other inspecting an ever-growing mess, the heavy drag of her so intense you were toeing the edge of a second climax within minutes. 

If Natasha paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell, but her sympathy was rare, always the one warning Wanda against being too forgiving. Her current affection was the only thing keeping Wanda from snapping on you entirely though, knowing as much as she was focusing on getting you ready for bed, Wanda was fighting sleep too and it was making her moodier by the second. “You should’ve taken my text back as a reminder that I don’t wear Halloween costumes, sneaky wife of mine.”

Great, both her partners chose to be difficult tonight. “Why can’t either of you just listen to me?” 

“Ohh look who’s a brat now, Wanda. Do you hear yourself?” Nat was muffled from where you were under your blanket shield, but her snark was still clear as day. 

Wanda took her mounting frustrations out physically, cruelly pulling her hand away and wrenching out of Natasha’s reach mid-kiss. The two of you shared a disappointed whine, immediately suffering the consequences of your actions, but Wanda didn’t care. “It’s for a few hours for one night! It won’t kill you, I gave you an outfit once before-”

“Put your hand back, mommy, I was so close!” 

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. You know better.” Wanda did return her hand in the form of a rapid succession of slaps, the thick, wet sounds of her open palm meeting your soaked, puffy core humiliating you beyond belief. It hurt, yes, but as the sting lingered it only stoked your desire for her further and as you pinned your lover’s hand between you and her thigh, you found you hadn’t lost a single bit of your need. 

Learning from your mistake, you didn't push her, whining and pathetically getting yourself off while Wanda went back to coercing Natasha into Halloween fun. Obedience won you back some favor, three fingers now stretching you ruthlessly, second orgasm hitting you by surprise and bleeding straight into the third. 

Somewhere around then was where you lost track of their conversation, Wanda and Natasha bickering back and forth slowly being drowned out by the ever-louder ringing of your ears. Your muscles went slack, jaw hanging open, drooling onto her wrinkling pajama shirt as you relented to Wanda’s torture and the pleasure she kept you so hooked on. 

“Too much- I can’t, I can’t..!” You stammered out, fisting the mattress in a desperate plea for mercy. Everything ached, but you felt as though you were flying, soaring high above the house and into the dark city skies— and oh how you longed to fall right back into Wanda’s arms.

The older woman backed off almost too easily, returning to the gentle caresses she’d started with, “My hand’s tired, honey.” 

You thought that’d be the end of it, that you’d stay here until you sailed into pleasant dreams, but then you were being rolled over and instead of hitting the mattress, your back met the sturdy warmth of Natasha’s lap. Relaxing there was all too easy, head rolling back onto her shoulder, moving without resistance as Nat’s fingers took hold of your chin and turned it until she could kiss you, deep and greedy. “Look at you, all fucked out already… Wanda, what’d you do to her?”

“Nothing she didn’t enjoy, whether she admits it or not. ” How Wanda managed to find her way to her knees so quickly was beyond you, but you didn’t have it in you to question. Lacquered nails slowly scratched over your pelvis where you still felt so tingly while Natasha took the opportunity to massage your newly exposed breasts, four hands exploring your exhausted body. 

It was the same type of adoration you’d hid from earlier, but you were long past shying away now. You’d had more than enough of being ignored for a good while. “Hold her for me while I finish, you know how I hate messes in bed.”

Eyes you could barely manage to keep open peered past where Nat was groping you to see Wanda tie her hair back before settling onto her stomach, shuffling forward until she was close enough to nuzzle her cheek into your soft thighs. When she kissed your clit, you mewled, oversensitive from Wanda’s earlier abuse. “Mommy.. hurts..” 

“Hush, baby, I’m only cleaning you up. I’d never hurt you,” Wanda whispered it so lovingly you had no choice to concede, discovering in the next second that even if you wanted to close your legs you couldn’t, Natasha’s own holding yours apart. She licked and sucked carefully, lulling your tired brain back into blissful nothingness. 

The last thing you remember is Natasha’s deep voice right in your ear, your nipples caught between her calloused fingers as she rolled them in time with her wife’s tongue lapping at your leaking entrance. “Go to sleep, little dove, we’ll tuck you in safe and sound… and I promise to wake you up when I’m done with mommy.”

[weebsinstash]

I've been having a lot of FOOD based ideas for Alastor recently, because cooking and eating in general can actually be VERY personal, intimate things, so here's a bunch of concepts all at once

- I keep thinking of ideas where Reader's hotel room is set up like a studio apartment and you have your own little kitchen in there and ideas stemming from that where Alastor likes to pop in and see what youre cooking and, semi occasionally give critique you didnt ask for but is sometimes actually super helpful

You know, I've had a whole "hotel having group meals" thing and I just picture there are specific nights or times where everyone has the option to gather for some home cooked food, but Alastor refuses to participate because Lucifer is the one cooking, so he's wandering the Hotel until he smells something absolutely delicious, and he finds you cooking in your room, and him visiting you starts becoming a regular thing. He just suddenly appears two feet behind you without warning, "SO! What's for eatin' tonight?" with his Cheshire grin while you give a startled shriek and he potentially has to keep you from spilling or breaking whatever you're holding

- I've been learning how to cook more things and, since it's, you know, LEARNING, I have to look up and double check a lot of stuff, which I use my cellphone for, and I can imagine Alastor HAAAAATING this. You're telling me you've got this intelligent, distinguished gentleman chef right next to you and his nosey ass peeks over your shoulder to see you Voogling "how to cook rice"???? You'd rather use that blasted device than ask your deer friend? He'd be kind of offended actually. Just one of those things that makes him click his tongue at you and pat your head like you're so pitifully helpless, how are you EVER going to be able to care for yourself if you overly rely on tech so much? Guess he'll just have to use this as an excuse to become a mentor to you--

- so, you know, I'm gonna come right out and say I have some, vaguely disordered eating habits, and I can just picture Alastor having some uh, feelings about if his dear Reader wasn't eating properly. Like, this is a Louisiana man from the deep south who's probably grown up on all kinds of soul food and delicious but soooo unhealthy meals where the focus is really more on if it fills your tummy and tastes good, so like... imagine he's been dining with you and getting closer to you and he pops in on you one day, "hey hon, what's for lunch today?" in his typical joking self and you're just like, "oh actually I'm on a diet so I'm fasting right now :)". Pandemonium.

Like literally, Alastor is deriving so much comfort and entertainment from your food and getting to spend time with you and even just chat with you while you cook even of he isn't hungry, and one day he hears your stomach growl and he asks you when you ate last and "oh I had a breakfast sandwich yesterday morning" and you act like that's totally normal that you're standing there borderline salivating from hunger and he can HEAR your tummy growling and you're just "oh my gosh I'm so happy I've been losing so much weight! This new diet is really working for me ^^"

- honestly I keep thinking of. Alastor with a BBW or just plus sized person in general and he loves how big and soft and cuddly you are and you bake all kinds of delicious treats and snacks to spoil him with and he gives you hugs like he did with Mimzy so you can really SQUEEZE his lanky scarecrow ass up against your plush body, BUT I also see him in this scenario personally detesting when you start dieting, because in this scenario you're basically becoming kind of orthorexic, fasting, limiting what foods you eat and how much, eating foods with very little caloric value in high amounts. He can't share meals with you anymore. You don't cook the foods he likes anymore. You're becoming obsessed with diet and exercise but you're not even consuming the right combination of nutrients to properly and healthily lose weight and build muscle so you're just, slowly becoming weaker and more malnourished like LITERALLY becoming significantly more unhealthy trying to diet than what you were doing before

I just picture it gets to the point where Alastor literally forces you to eat. I'm talking you're bound in a chair, he's sitting across from you, and there's a hearty meaty bowl of stew in his hands as he raises a spoonful up to your mouth. You're crying and whimpering over how this will make you gain weight and being forced to take bites and, something about this meat tastes a little unusual as Alastor starts talking about, "lovely ladies such as yourself need more iron in their diet to stay healthy"

- I know I keep thinking of Alastor cannibalism ideas in a horror context but I've also thought about Reader CONSENSUALLY engaging in cannibalism. Like. Alastor comes to visit you one day and he can tell something has happened to you. It's all over your face: dour expression, dead eyes, low voice, just more withdrawn. You're cooking some kind of meat in a way he would consider almost experimental, as if you're not used to preparing this dish before, dont know how to season or flavor it. I think he would be able to tell by the smell what it is but I like to picture he's in peaceful ignorance until you quietly set down a plate in front of him and one for yourself as you take a seat with him and you just, quietly glance from him and the food and start talking,

"I, uh... was drinking with a friend of mine, a male friend... JUST a friend, and, I, I thought he was really nice, and, funny, and, I caught him trying to put something in my drink, so," and you look up at Alastor after you finish chewing a bite,

"Does he taste overcooked to you?"

And Alastor just gets this BIG smile, ears twitching happily, so thrilled for multiple multiple reasons, "oh hon, he tastes DIVINE, you really outdid yourself❤️❤️❤️"

- I will say though an idea I keep coming back to actually involves Rosie! You've been cooking with Alastor for weeks and, one day he shows up with company! I think it would actually be quite flattering at first: Alastor brought a friend to eat with you? And she's like, an important person? So... you're friends then? He likes you enough to bring his buddies around and introduce you? And of course, Rosie is an absolute delight, loves your cooking, loves your jokes, adores you, tries to chatter and pry all kinds of juicy details and gossip out of you, just a friendly chatty Cathy

Unbeknownst to you, some of the meat Alastor occasionally provides has been different types of Sinner Demons and one day Rosie comes to stop by where you're staying and, you're absolutely hysterical, in a rage, and Rosie has to ask Alastor, "oh, what's wrong? What's with all the tears, hon?"

"She doesn't like eating Hector."

"But she LOVES eating Hector! She loves how all his cartilage and fat cooks down!"

"She :) may or may not have been aware she was eating Hector"

"ALASTOR >:("

But Rosie is also too attached with you at this point so, you know, they'll ""apologize"" for not informing you you've been eating like entire fucking people, but, they're not uh, they're not gonna stop coming around. Like can you picture they come to visit you days later like it's nothing and you don't come to the door and they "invite themselves in" (alastor may or may not have copied your key, not that he needs to but it's more formal than using his magic to break in) and your fridge and pantry have been completely cleared out of every single ingredient and cooked meal, like you couldn't trust a single fucking thing, not even the bouillon cubes, and they find all your lovingly cooked meals that the two cannibals loved to eat with you, rotting in a garbage can outside. Not that they're gonna dig shit out of the trash or anything but like imagine them BEING ANNOYED that you've wasted perfectly good food. Not just your money, but, sweetie, all your hard work :'(

- also, final one. Circling back to the "you cook in your hotel room but sometimes Lucifer serves group meals" idea, imagine Alastor eventually really does something to piss you off and, he's coming to join you for dinner and there's already other people there, the whole Hotel actually, INCLUDING Lucifer. And I just. Oooo I picture the jealousy, like EXTREME JEALOUSY where you're turning and asking Lucifer how to do certain things and teach you and you just seem so much more COMFORTABLE around the tiny devil over the cannibal and Alastor is grinding his teeth while you're talking, "Alastor doesn't like tea so, I guess you and I get to have all this sweet tea I made for ourselves" and Lucifer just, "oh gosh, I'd never pass up on something YOU made. I've been having a lot of fun teaching you stuff and cooking more! You could even call us," *looks DIRECTLY at Alastor* "best friends >:)"

ALASTOR GRINDING HIS TEETH TO DUST, stalking up to the two of you, twisting and snapping his neck to tower over Lucifer, "may I SPEAK with you PRIVATELY for a moment" and Lucifer just, "uhhhhhh, no? I'm helping her finish food for everyone" and then the little fallen angel turns his head towards you, "oh no, don't cut that like that, you might hurt yourself!" And he slides up next to you on a stool or uses his wings and, he's MUCH touchier than Alastor so the stag is like VISIBLY UPSET as Lucifer gently puts his own hands over yours, "here, place your fingers like this and cut in this motion--" AND WHAT'S THE WORST IS YOU DON'T SEEM TO MIND LUCIFER TOUCHING YOU, like. Alastor is about to start full blown tantruming on a room full of people. Charlie is inviting him to come and sit down while Husker knows the Radio Demon well enough to see he's about to pop a blood vessel and prompt excuses himself from the room to avoid what will surely become a physical altercation

God forbid, Lucifer says some shit like, "you know, your cooking reminds me a lot like my third wife's" and you're just "oh, you got married a third time???" And here's the Devil, SHAMELESSLY "oh, not yet ;)"

Yeah, I'd say a pretty big fight would break out after that

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

5.3 Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Bucky got a call from Lily, wanting to know where he was. He lied to her, of course. That definitely won't come back to bite him in the ass.

A/N: Sorry this is so late going up! Had a last-minute Mother's Day dinner with the family, and then some quality time with @cazellen, and when you add on an hour+ drive each way, it ended up eating my entire evening. But! I wouldn't leave you hanging, so here is today's update, just... six hours late :(

Also, PLEASE NOTE: There is one more section of Chapter 5 to go up tomorrow, and then I will be taking a one-week break from posting so I can focus on writing. So, Chapter 6 will start on Sunday, May 19th. I probably will not be as active on here as I normally am, so if you send me a message and I don't respond right away, it's because I'm busy making more content for you!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Lily clutched her phone to her chest, shocked. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. He had lied to her. She couldn’t believe it. Her best friend had lied to her about what he was doing and who he was with. 

She hadn’t planned on coming to the Compound that night– she’d realized she’d forgotten some files in her office that she needed to look over before she went back to work on Monday, and had just stopped in to pick them up. She figured, since she was there, she might as well go see what Bucky and Sam were up to. She didn’t want to crash their boys’ night, per se, but if they happened to invite her to join them? Well, how could she refuse such an invitation?

That’s why it came as such a shock when she rounded the corner to the rec room and saw Sam and Steve, in front of the large television, watching football together, and Bucky nowhere in sight. She hung back for a few moments, giving him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he’d been in the bathroom, or in the kitchen grabbing snacks. But when fifteen minutes went by, then thirty, and Bucky still hadn’t shown himself, she began to worry.

She was about to barge into the room and demand answers from Sam and Steve, when she heard them talking during a commercial break.

“So, how do you think the date’s going?” Steve asked Sam.

“Knowing Tin Man, I’d usually say ‘terribly,’” Sam said with a laugh, “but this girl seems to actually like him, so who the hell knows? I guess it depends on what time he comes home tonight… or tomorrow morning, doesn’t it?” 

Lily brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp as she backed away from the entrance to the rec room. 

No. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. He wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t just start seeing someone without telling her, warning her, would he? 

So, she’d called him. 

“I promised Sam we’d do guys’ night,” he’d told her at brunch, the lie coming so smoothly off his lips. But she’d heard a woman’s voice on the line with him.

Lies.

And then, he’d snapped “I already told you what I was doing… You don’t have to keep checking up on me.” He’d never used that exasperated tone with her before. Never. And to just hang up on her, without even a proper goodbye?

She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. In their years of friendship, Bucky had never lied to her before, had he? And why? Why now? Who was this girl, and what was so fucking special about her that Bucky felt the need to lie to his best friend about her? 

Lily felt like she was going to be sick.

She needed to find out who this mystery woman was, immediately. And she needed to do everything in her power to make sure Bucky never saw her again.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[horangare]

some love

pairing : chan x reader

content : angst, smut (mdni), fluff/comfort

in which : you’re worried that your boyfriend isn’t really in love with you. he is determined to prove you wrong.

warnings : you feel unloveable but chan loves you sm, oral (f receiving), fingering, declarations of love, mentions of yeonjun (txt), you’re mentioned to be kind of inexperienced

wc : 2.1K words

It’s so late. Too late. You’re not even sure why you’re even bothering to stay up waiting for him.

But it’s not his fault, that’s what some desperate part of you is saying. He’s busy. He’s trying.

You wished you weren’t so selfish. You wished that you could believe yourself when you said and thought those things. You wished that your mind wasn’t your own worst enemy.

With a heavy heart, you retreated to the bedroom—your bedroom. It had been two and a half months now and Chan didn’t even sleep in the same bed with you. Was that normal for new couples? Or was it just more proof of this one sided infatuation you were labeling as your relationship with him?

Every day the distance between you only seemed to grow, and every night you would hold yourself in your own arms and pretend you didn’t care.

Chan was your first real boyfriend ever since your short time in high school with Choi Yeonjun. He was nice and there was no doubt he liked you back, you just couldn’t comprehend the fact that someone like him would want to be with someone like you. There was no way Yeonjun could ever really love you, just like there was no way Chan could.

The front door opened, quietly, Chan had a habit of trying to keep quiet when he came home late to avoid waking you. Most of the time, you were still wide awake, having grown tired of waiting for him. Not that he checked to ever actually see if you were actually asleep in there. Maybe it was better that he didn’t, you’d rather he not see you like that.

You wonder what possessed him to check tonight.

“Oh, you’re still awake?”

He spoke gently, quietly, and you could see the surprise etched into his features. How could he be surprised when he never bothered to see for himself?

You nodded, though your eyes were looking in a different direction. “Yeah. I’ve been up for a little while.”

“Were you waiting for me again?”

Chan saw through you like glass. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and it didn’t feel fair. You wanted to know how he felt with just a look, or a word, or a touch. It wasn’t fair.

“No, I was—”

“You don’t have to lie.” He shrugged, walking closer to the bed so he could be closer to you. “I told you that you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wasn’t.” Your tone was nothing short of defensive, and there was no doubt that he picked up on it. Which of your quirks or tells didn’t he pick up on?

He’s so stubborn. To think it’s that same stubbornness that brought you together in the first place is almost enough to make you laugh.

“So what were you doing, then?”

“Nothing, just…” Just what? Doubting every aspect of your relationship? Questioning yourself about whether he actually loved you or not? Digging yourself deeper into your own hole of self-pity?

“I was just thinking.”

Chan nodded slowly, allowing your words to sink in. There was an uncomfortable silence that enveloped the room for several minutes as neither of you spoke to each other. It’s not like it was anything you weren’t used to.

“Thinking about what?”

You’re not sure why that specific question struck a nerve, but it did. “Can we do this interrogation some other time, Chan? I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“So when will we talk about it?” He mumbled. “I hardly ever see you. We don’t even sleep in the same room. If we don’t talk now, when will we?”

“I don’t know, Chan!” You finally turned your head in his direction. “Does it matter? Nothing is going to change if we talk. We’ll still sleep in different beds not seeing each other and pretending like this relationship is real. What is talking going to do?”

He hears the pain in your voice before he sees it on your face. How it cracks and shakes just a little, all your suffering starting to bubble to the surface. He wishes you would’ve told him something sooner, because now it seems you’re only so many words away from your breaking point.

You move away when he comes closer, and the distance between you seems wider than ever. For once you wish he would back down, let go of his stubbornness, and not be so forgiving.

“Communication is important for relationships, [Y/n].” He’s even closer now, so close that you can’t move away even if you tried. “I just want to understand you better.”

Chan waits for you to speak. He could wait forever if that’s what it takes. However long it would take to get you to tell him something, anything, he would wait.

“I just want you to…to love me, Chan.” The second half of your sentence was whispered, too shameful to be spoken in a voice any louder than that. Chan’s face was laced with confusion.

“You think that I don’t love you, [Y/n]?”

It felt like a trick question. No matter what answer you gave, the answer would do nothing to make you feel any better about the situation. Regret was working its way into your mind, and you cursed yourself for even saying anything in the first place.

“Do you not?” You turned away again. “Love me, I mean?” You doubted he needed the extra clarification, but the last thing you wanted now was an answer that wasn’t direct.

“I have no reason to feel otherwise.” He brought his hands to your face, cupping them and slowly turning your head until you were facing him again.

Yes he does, you thought. There were plenty of reasons for him to not feel any affection for you. Maybe he just wanted to spare your feelings. You weren’t sure why. You chose not to answer him.

His next words were sudden, desperate. “I can prove it. If…that’s what you want.”

You try to look away again, but now you can’t. He won’t let you. You don’t know why you felt so nervous at his proposal. You did want him to prove it, you wanted it more than you’ve wanted anything. Perhaps it was the unknown possibilities hidden beneath such a simple string of words.

He was desperate. So were you.

“Okay,” you decided to say. “prove it.”

Chan has only kissed you once before—on the cheek, and only for a moment. This kiss felt similar to that. Sweet, gentle, like he was testing the waters. The last thing he wanted to do now was scare you off, not when he had finally made so much progress. You clench your hands into fists at your sides, not quite sure what to do or where to put them. “Are you okay?” He mumbled against your lips.

“I—I don’t know.” You pulled away from him and immediately missed the feeling of his lips against yours. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Chan hummed in understanding, gently caressing your face in an attempt to soothe you. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

He was being honest. You wanted to believe that he was telling you the truth, and you wanted to believe him. He was going to take care of you, and he was going to prove that he loved you.

“You can relax, it’s just me,” he whispered against your skin. You mumbled a weak apology and tried to get yourself to loosen up while your boyfriend kissed a path down your body; from your lips to your jaw to your neck, getting lower and lower…

You felt warm, and it only made you tense up again. “Chan…”

“I know, it’s okay.”

His thumbs traced circles on your inner thighs, and you felt a little bit dizzy. The act was so soothing, so intimate.

So loving.

You feel too embarrassed to keep watching him when he pushes apart your thighs. He’s so close—closer than he’s ever been to you in a long time. You can’t believe it’s taken this long just to have him be with you like this.

“Is it okay if I take these off?” He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Other than a shirt that is a size too big for you, the cloth material sticking to the area between your legs is the only other piece of clothing you have on. You figure it was a smart decision.

“Yeah.”

He treats you so carefully, sliding the fabric down your legs and puts it aside. You’ve always expected that he’d be the type to ravage you, to fuck you senseless and leave you crying and begging him for more.

It’s not like that at all. Not even close. Instead; your sweet boyfriend is lying between your legs and looking at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. This version of him seems more fitting. You like it.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so perfect.”

You were going to argue against it. There was no such thing as the perfect person, and even if there was it wouldn’t be you. Chan thought otherwise. To him, you were perfection personified, and he wanted you to realize it for yourself. Whatever you were going to say came out as a whine instead of proper words.

Your inner thighs are soon littered with hickeys, there’s hardly any skin left untouched by his lips. The anticipation is eating you alive—having him only inches away from where you need him the most and yet he’s choosing to keep you in suspense like this. When you start to squirm, Chan shakes his head and pinches your thigh. It’s not hard enough to hurt too badly, it’s just enough to warn you to keep still, and you do.

Thankfully he doesn’t wait any longer. Whatever space was left between him and your dripping core is now gone when he starts to lick long, warm stripes up your slit.

“Oh, Chan, fuck…” Your breath is shaky, and so are your hands—which you’ve finally managed to tear away from your sides and give them a new home in Chan’s hair. He hummed, and the vibration traveled right through you in the most pleasurable way possible.

He ate you out as if he were dying and you were his cure. It’s almost like he’s the one who needed this and not the other way around. His thirst for you is unquenchable, and if you’d let him, he’d spend an eternity buried between your thighs. His nose bumps against your clit over and over again, and the stimulation is heightened when he circles one of his fingers at your hole before guiding it inside you.

You try to speak again but all that comes out is a loud whine of Chan’s name. He pumps his finger in and out of you before adding another and repeating the motions.

“I love you,” He murmurs against your skin. “Always will, okay? I. Love. You.” With every word he curls his fingers to reach that spot deep inside of you that he knows will have you falling apart in no time.

“I—shit—I love you too, Chan. M-More than anything.” Now your whole body is shaking and you can practically taste how close you are. Chan never lets up, not even for a moment. He seems to give up on being gentle and opts for something more effective so he can get you to cum—sucking on your clit and speeding up the pace of his fingers. When it finally happens, it’s with a cry of his name and a light, blissful feeling that makes you smile dazedly.

Chan’s mouth and chin are shiny with your juices, you can see his face shine in the dim light from the lamp on your beside table. He’s about to kiss you, so eager to taste you again, that he almost forgets to whip his mouth. When he raises his head, he gasps.

“You’re crying,” he says softly. You shake your head at him, the faint traces of a smile still on your lips. You are crying, but they’re not sad tears. Not this time.

You hold his face in your hands, and it’s still a little sticky. “I’m happy.”

“You are?”

“Yeah…I am.” You nodded, and he did too. “Thank you, Chan. I love you.”

Chan kissed you again. A kiss like before. A loving kiss.

“I love you too.”

[fratttymatty]

Bro, It's Haunted

(All characters are 18+)

It was the perfect night for a paranormal investigation. The kind of night when a full moon hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows on dilapidated buildings, and the air was thick with the smell of old dust and mystery. A group of nine friends—paranormal investigators and self-proclaimed nerds—had been itching for their latest adventure. They weren’t just any nerdy crew; they were a tight-knit group of gay, liberal, and openly eccentric thirty-year-olds. They had faced haunted dolls, cursed objects, and even poltergeists. But tonight’s location was a bit… different.

The Alpha Sigma Pi frat house, once the pride of their small college town, had been abandoned for years. No one had lived there in at least a decade, and rumors about the place circulated like wildfire. No one dared go near it anymore—except for the team, of course.

The nine of them gathered in the parking lot, adjusting their equipment and checking the cameras on their phones. There was Nate, the confident team leader with a deep love for horror movies and a perpetual dark hoodie; Jesse, the sarcastic and dry-witted one, constantly cracking jokes but deeply sentimental when it counted; Finn, the tech genius who could hack anything and had a fascination with all things supernatural; Liam, the sensitive one, who was always the first to believe in things like ghosts and spirits; Ollie, the curious but quiet skeptic who had a soft spot for astrology; and then there was the rest of the crew—Emory, Miles, Theo, and Xavier—each one an essential part of the quirky, nerdy ensemble.

They stood in front of the house, which loomed like a forgotten monument to a time long past. The windows were boarded up, the paint peeling, and a thick fog curled around the crumbling structure.

“Alright, so the legends say this place is haunted by the spirits of the worst kind of frat boys—those who never grew up and are stuck in the 'glory days' of their youth,” Finn said, adjusting the strap on his backpack, filled with ghost-hunting equipment.

“Yikes,” Liam muttered. “Not looking forward to meeting that kind of energy.”

"Eh, at least we won’t have to deal with them 'till we're dead and rotting," Ollie quipped, eyes scanning the dark silhouette of the house.

The team filed into the front door, which creaked open easily, as if welcoming them in. The inside of the house was just as abandoned as it looked on the outside—empty beer cans, broken furniture, and posters of former college athletes lined the walls. It smelled like stale alcohol and faded memories.

“This place is definitely haunted,” Jesse muttered under his breath, looking around. "Either that, or these are the vibes of my worst nightmare."

“Let’s get to work,” Nate said, trying to focus the team. “We’ll split up. Emory, you and I will check the basement. Theo, Jesse, check the upper floors. Finn, Liam, and Xavier, you’re with me on the ground level. Ollie, you’re on monitoring. Keep an eye on the cameras.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and the investigation began. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They set up their cameras, EVP recorders, and motion sensors. Every now and then, a strange creak echoed through the house, but that was hardly enough to draw anyone’s attention—until it started happening.

The first person to notice was Theo. He stood frozen in the hallway, staring at an old photograph hanging crookedly on the wall.

“Uh, guys,” he said slowly, “this picture looks weird.”

The photograph was of a group of young men, all smiling proudly in front of the house. But as Theo looked closer, the faces seemed to shift, almost imperceptibly, until the men no longer looked like their college-aged selves.

"Did… did those guys just move?" Theo whispered, voice quivering slightly.

Finn rushed over, but by the time he reached the wall, the image was still and normal. Nothing had changed.

“Bro, you good?” Jesse asked, clearly trying to joke, but something in his tone felt off. “Just a picture. Maybe you’re seeing things.”

It wasn’t until the lights flickered that the first real sign something was wrong occurred. The house itself seemed to breathe, the walls exhaling in a slow, deliberate shudder.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit them all at once.

“I feel dizzy…” Liam said, his hand reaching to steady himself against a doorframe.

“I’m good,” Jesse muttered, “but I swear I’m too good.” He let out a low laugh, as though something was tickling his brain, but not quite reaching the punchline.

Then things got… stranger.

One by one, the group started to change. At first, it was subtle—nothing more than a shift in posture, or the way their voices sounded. But soon, their bodies began to morph, skin tightening, muscle mass increasing, faces becoming more angular and chiseled. Their clothes felt tighter, their jeans more fitted—though most of them couldn’t quite put their finger on why.

"Hey, bro, I feel kinda… strong all of a sudden," Miles said, flexing his bicep absentmindedly. “Like, I wanna, I dunno, lift something heavy. Bro things.”

“Bro?” Jesse blinked, his voice coming out in a deeper tone. His hand shot out to slap Miles on the back, but instead of the usual playful gesture, it was almost an aggressive, over-the-top bro hug. “Yeah, man! Let’s get that pump going.”

“I… I don’t know what’s going on…” Theo’s voice trailed off. He ran a hand through his hair—hair that was suddenly much thicker and styled differently. He felt the front of his shirt and blinked as if waking up from a strange dream. “What the hell? Why am I—?”

“It’s the house,” Nate said slowly, his own voice shifting into a more gravelly, assured tone. He glanced around at his friends, realizing, with growing panic, that they weren’t the same people they’d been an hour ago. “We’ve been taken.”

Finn turned around in disbelief, his fingers instinctively adjusting the collar of his polo. “Nah, man. I feel good. Like, really good. Like, I’m the king of this house or something.”

The transformations continued—tighter jeans, broader shoulders, more swagger in their steps. Their personalities were shifting too, as if something in the house was rewriting their identities. The sarcastic and clever remarks gave way to cruder jokes, and deep thoughts were replaced with loud cheers about football and frat parties.

By the time they had all fully transformed, they stood before one another—completely unrecognizable from who they’d once been. Their names had changed too, though they couldn't remember exactly how or when.

Nate was now "Chad," Jesse was “Brock,” Theo was “Kyle,” Finn became “Tyler,” Liam became “Brad,” Ollie was “Zach,” Miles was “Jake,” Emory was “Ryan,” and Xavier was “Max.” They looked at each other in confusion—before bursting into raucous laughter.

“Bro, this is sick!” Chad (formerly Nate) shouted. “I feel so… alive, you know? Like, we’re living in the moment, man!”

“I dunno about you guys, but I love being 21 again,” Brock (Jesse) chimed in, punching Kyle (Theo) on the shoulder with a laugh. “This is what life’s all about, man! Football, parties, and, like, grilling stuff, y’know?”

They all laughed again. They had no memory of their past selves—no interest in returning to who they once were. The house had changed them, and now they belonged here, in their new lives.

“Who needs ghosts?” Max (Xavier) added with a chuckle, slapping a high five with Zach (Ollie). “We’re the real menace now, bros.”

And so, the abandoned frat house stood—alive, buzzing with energy as its new inhabitants reveled in their transformation. The doors closed behind them with a final, definitive slam, and the house hummed as if content, its newest bro occupants already planning the next big party.

The Spellsisters were a tight-knit group of ten liberal, nerdy, 28-year-old paranormal investigators who prided themselves on their intellect, critical thinking, and love of all things supernatural. But when they stepped foot into the abandoned Delta Kappa Omega sorority house, they had no idea they were about to face something that would completely change them.

The team consisted of:

Cassidy – The level-headed leader, calm and collected, always keeping the group grounded.

Lana – The intuitive one, deeply attuned to spiritual energy and the vibes of any place.

Sierra – The techie, always with gadgets in hand, trying to find logical explanations for everything.

Ella – The free-spirited dreamer, often lost in mystical thoughts, fascinated by energy fields.

Bailey – The pragmatic skeptic, always on the lookout for rational explanations for the unexplained.

Tessa – The tarot card reader with a sharp wit and a skeptical edge, always questioning the unknown.

Zoey – The empathetic one, sensitive to emotional energies and trying to understand the deeper forces at play.

Emilia – The witch-in-training, passionate about crystals, herbs, and mystical rituals.

Riley – The scientist, logical to the core, though secretly intrigued by the supernatural.

Morgan – The dramatic one with an epic flair for storytelling and a surprisingly deep intuition.

They had come to investigate the Delta Kappa Omega house, a once-vibrant sorority that had long been abandoned and was rumored to be haunted by the spirits of its former sisters. Now, as the house lay in ruins, they were determined to uncover the truth.

"This place is... heavy," Cassidy said as the group stood before the house, the old, dilapidated structure looming before them. "It feels like it's holding onto something... dark."

"Yeah, dark energy," Sierra muttered, fiddling with a device meant to detect electromagnetic fields. "This place is off."

“I don’t like it,” Bailey added, scanning the area with a frown. “It’s like something’s watching us.”

“Well, we came here for answers, not to get freaked out,” Lana said, looking up at the house with determination. “Let’s do this.”

As they entered the house, the air felt charged with an unnatural energy. Dust swirled in the air like a ghostly mist, and remnants of the sorority’s past—old furniture, faded photographs, and posters of smiling young women—lined the walls, now decaying with age.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Zoey murmured as she stepped cautiously into the living room. “The vibes here are… weird.”

“Well, whatever it is, we need to figure it out,” Cassidy said firmly, taking charge. “Let’s split up, cover more ground. Stay in contact. If you sense anything… strange, let me know.”

The group split into smaller teams: Cassidy and Riley headed for the kitchen to investigate, while Zoey, Tessa, and Morgan set up their base in the living room. Lana, Sierra, and Emilia went to the attic, where the coldest, most oppressive energy seemed to gather.

It didn’t take long before something went terribly wrong.

The house began to hum, an eerie vibration that rattled the walls. A heavy, oppressive feeling filled the air, and a sudden dizziness struck all of them, as if the house itself were rearranging their minds.

“Something’s not right,” Cassidy said, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter to steady herself.

"I—I feel weird..." Bailey said, her voice trailing off. She glanced down at herself and froze, blinking rapidly. Her loose, comfortable jeans and hoodie had been replaced with a form-fitting, trendy crop top and high-waisted shorts. She was now, suddenly, perfectly toned—her stomach flat and abs defined. She ran her hands through her hair. "Wait, what the hell just happened?"

Cassidy looked at herself in the same reflection—her shirt was now tight, and her body had shifted in ways she couldn’t explain. Her once wild hair was now perfectly styled, and her makeup—subtle yet flawless—somehow appeared. “Is this… real?”

“What’s happening?” Riley asked, tugging at her jacket. It now clung to her body in a way that was completely foreign to her. Her voice, once confident and logical, now had a higher pitch, more energy, and a certain tone to it. She caught sight of her reflection in a broken mirror. Her jeans were now tight and trendy, her hair styled in soft waves. "I look… good."

Lana, standing near the window, twirled a lock of hair and glanced at herself in disbelief. Her long hair had become voluminous waves, framing her face in a way that made her appear effortlessly glamorous. Her baggy clothes were gone, replaced by tight pants and heels that somehow made sense. "Oh my god, I look amazing," she said, flashing a grin at the others.

"Okay, I’m freaking out," Sierra said, now feeling herself. Her hoodie was gone, replaced with a fitted jacket that hugged her body, accentuating her curves. Her hair was styled with perfect volume, and her usual intellectual focus had been replaced by something a little... lighter. “I look, like, totally different. And I kind of love it."

“I don’t know about you guys,” Zoey added, glancing down at her now-bodycon dress, “but, like, I’m feeling myself right now. Like, I could totally get used to this."

“What is going on with us?” Tessa asked, her voice oddly high-pitched and bubbly now. She fidgeted with her hair, which had grown shinier, thicker. "Like, I’m literally glowing right now. What happened to us?”

"I—I don’t even care," Bailey said with a shrug, her voice now more carefree than before. "I’m, like, so over the ghost stuff. I feel hot."

Cassidy, the former leader, stood still, her hands on her hips. Her old, rational thoughts slipped away, and a strange new energy surged inside her. “Honestly? I’m kind of digging this whole vibe. I feel like we should just go out and party. We can figure out the ghosts later.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Tessa laughed, flipping her hair dramatically. “Why deal with spooky stuff when we could be living our best life? I’m, like, ready for a night out.”

“I need, like, so many more outfits,” Zoey giggled, now twirling in the middle of the room. “I’m obsessed with how cute I look!”

Lana spun to face the group, her attitude completely transformed. “Let’s hit up a frat party. I need some attention, and I’m ready for it.”

“I’m like, so ready for this,” Sierra added with a wide, confident grin, brushing her hands through her hair. “We’re totally in charge now.”

Each of the Spellsisters had undergone a full transformation—not just physically, but mentally, as well. Gone were the curious, thoughtful, and empowered women who had walked into the house. In their place stood something else entirely: young, fashionable, superficial versions of themselves, obsessed with parties, boys, and their looks. They were no longer concerned with the supernatural or solving any paranormal mysteries.

Their names had changed along with everything else:

Cassidy became Carmen – the bubbly, fashion-obsessed, carefree girl who only cared about herself and looking perfect.

Bailey became Brianna – the ditzy, energetic girl who was all about fun, partying, and catching attention.

Zoey became Zara – a sparkling, happy-go-lucky girl obsessed with shopping, boys, and being the life of the party.

Tessa became Tiffany – the fun-loving, ditzy girl who lived for drama and self-love.

Lana became Kylie – the confident, flirtatious sorority girl who was always the center of attention.

Sierra became Sienna – the outgoing, trendy girl who always knew what was in style.

Ella became Ellie – the ditzy girl who cared only about getting Instagram selfies and looking cute.

Emilia became Mia – the fashionable, self-centered girl who only thought about herself and her future popularity.

Riley became Riley (yes, Riley kept her name, but now her personality was transformed into that of a carefree, boy-crazy party girl).

Morgan became Madison – the dramatic, always-the-center-of-attention girl who thrived on admiration.

The house had claimed them, and they no longer cared about ghosts, spirits, or mysteries. They were new people, and they were loving their new lives of shopping, partying, and social media fame.

“Ugh, I need a cocktail,” Kylie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Let’s go hit up a party or something. Who even cares about ghosts anymore?”

And just like that, the Spellsisters were gone. In their place, new, ditzy, party-obsessed sorority girls had emerged. They were more than happy to leave the house’s haunted mysteries behind and step into their new lives.

After a strange, eerie night spent in the haunted Delta Kappa Omega house, the Spellsisters had transformed into something completely different. Gone were the intellectual, nerdy women who had entered the house. In their place were confident, party-obsessed, fashionable girls—completely unconcerned with the ghosts or the mysteries they came to uncover.

At the same time, across town, the former paranormal investigator guys—the Bro Hunters—had undergone a similar transformation in the Delta Kappa Omega’s brother house, Alpha Sigma Pi. Just as the Spellsisters had been turned into bubbly sorority girls, the guys had turned into frat boys—cocky, straight, and eager to hit the nearest party scene.

Cassidy, now Carmen, stood outside the Delta Kappa Omega house, looking up at the massive structure, her perfectly styled hair fluttering in the breeze. She twirled her keys in her hand, glancing down at her new, super-cute outfit—a tight crop top and high-waisted shorts that accentuated her toned body.

“God, I look so good right now,” she muttered to herself, checking her reflection in the window. “I’m literally going to make all the boys fall for me.”

“Carmen! You look like a snack,” Zoey—now Zara—called from across the street. She was leaning against a car, her eyes covered by oversized sunglasses despite the fact that it was nearing dusk. “Like, I swear, you’re hotter than anyone on Instagram.”

“Oh, stop,” Carmen giggled, flipping her hair. “But, like, you’re right.”

“You know what we need to do tonight?” Zara said, a mischievous grin crossing her face. “We need to party, girl. And I know just the place.”

Across the street, a group of frat boys were walking out of Alpha Sigma Pi’s mansion, all loud, cocky, and looking for their next big adventure. Among them were Jax, Max, Zane, Derrick, and Brock—each of them now fully immersed in their frat boy personas, with names to match their new identities.

“Oh, hell yeah, tonight’s gonna be lit,” Jax—formerly Jake—said, his grin wide and confident as he checked out his reflection in the nearby window. His frat brothers—Max, Zane, Derrick, and Brock—flanked him, all dressed in the tightest, most stylish clothes that fit the frat look perfectly.

“We’re gonna own this town,” Zane said, flexing his muscles and striking a pose. “The best party in town? It’s gonna be at our place.”

Brock slapped Zane on the back. “Dude, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get some attention tonight. Some real attention.”

“Well, we’re gonna get more than attention,” Max added, cracking his knuckles. “I’m thinking we’ll get ourselves some new girlfriends tonight.”

Just as the frat boys approached their cars, they saw a group of girls walking down the street toward them—Carmen, Zara, and the rest of the new “Spellsisters,” all of them laughing and chatting, their heels clicking against the pavement.

Brock’s eyes immediately locked onto Carmen. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s fire.”

“Yo, check it out,” Zane said, pointing at Zara. “She looks like she’s ready for some fun.”

“Hell yeah,” Max said with a grin. “Looks like we’re not the only ones looking to have a good time tonight.”

“Yo, ladies!” Jax called out, flashing a confident smile. “You girls lookin’ to party or what?”

Carmen turned around at the sound of Jax’s voice, and her eyes immediately scanned the group of guys. She felt an overwhelming rush of energy, her pulse quickening. This was it—this was exactly the kind of attention she craved. “Uh, yeah, we’re looking for a good time,” she said, flipping her hair back with an exaggerated flourish. “What’s your deal?”

“Oh, we’re definitely looking for some fun,” Jax replied, stepping closer. His new, cocky swagger was undeniable, and Carmen could feel the electricity between them. “I’m Jax, and this is Max, Zane, Derrick, and Brock. We were just about to hit up a party at the frat house. You down?”

“We’re totally down,” Zara chimed in, flashing a sweet smile that had a hint of mischief. “I’m Zara, and this is Carmen, Ella, Tessa, and Sienna.” She winked at Jax. “We know how to party, trust me.”

“Well, that’s what I like to hear,” Jax grinned, his eyes scanning her body. “You sure you can handle us?”

“I can handle anything,” Zara replied, crossing her arms confidently. “And you guys look like you could use some serious attention.”

Brock stepped forward, grinning. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to make this night unforgettable. Let’s make sure you get the full frat boy experience.”

The Spellsisters and the frat boys laughed together, the instant chemistry between them undeniable. With every word exchanged, the former nerds and introverts grew more confident, their carefree personalities fully taking over.

As the night went on, they moved into the frat house, music blasting and the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Carmen was inseparable from Jax, Zara kept flirting with Max, and Sienna couldn’t seem to get enough of Brock. Tessa and Derrick were in the corner, gossiping and laughing about their latest party experiences, while Ella and Zane were dancing together, their chemistry undeniable.

“I’ve never had more fun in my life,” Carmen whispered to Jax as they sipped drinks and stood near the dance floor. “Like, why would I ever go back to my old life?”

“You don’t need to,” Jax replied, his arm casually draped around her waist. “We’ve got everything we need right here. Who needs the paranormal when we can have real fun?”

“Exactly,” Carmen said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Who needs the ghosts?”

And in that moment, it became clear—both the Spellsisters and the frat boys had left behind their old, nerdy selves. They were no longer investigators or skeptics; they were now young, fun, and living for the moment. The ghosts that once haunted the Delta Kappa Omega house? Well, they were just part of the past. What mattered now was the party, the attention, and the fun of their new, carefree lives.

And, of course, there was a whole lot of dating going on—because in this new world, the only thing they cared about was each other, the fun they were having, and their new, exciting, drama-filled lives.

(From row 4, 2, 1 left to right, Brock, Zach, Ryan, Tyler, Max, Jake, Kyle, Chad, Brad.)

(From row 4, 3, 2, 1 left to right, Sienna, Zara, Tiffany, Brianna, Ellie, Kylie, Riley, Madison, Carmen, Mia.)

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Are you afraid of me?

Stalker Billie Eilish x reader

Warnings: stalking, slight manipulation, obsession, not much else tbh

Billie has been watching you for a while now. She knows your schedule, where you live, and even where you walk every night. She needs to be a part of your life. She has a master plan and tonight is step one.

The cool air gently caresses your face as you wander through the city’s misty late-night quiet. It’s a habit of yours to go for long walks when you need to clear your head. But tonight, there’s a strange tension in the air. It’s just you and the fog, yet you keep glancing over your shoulder. Is someone’s watching?

You keep walking. You are prone to imagining things, that must be it. But then you hear something. Just the faintest echo of footsteps, soft but definitely in time with yours. Your stomach clenches, and you stop, pretending to check your phone as you look around. No one. Just the empty street under flickering neon lights.

You’re scared and about to turn back, maybe head home and forget the whole thing, when a voice slips into the quiet.

“Nice night, isn’t it?”

You jump, whirling around. There’s a girl standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of a baggy black hoodie, the hood pulled low. Her face is partially in shadow, but you can see the glint of her eyes and a faint hint of green in her hair. She’s smiling, but there’s something strange about the way she’s looking at you, her gaze steady, like she’s been waiting.

She watches your reaction closely, hiding her own satisfaction. It’s about time you noticed, Billie thinks, her heart picking up as she steps forward. For weeks now, she’s kept her distance, studying the way you move, your daily routine. She knows you disappear into these streets late at night. She’s spent hours watching you from these same alleys, trailing you from blocks away, always careful, always keeping just out of sight. But tonight, she is going to make her move. It is all a part of her carefully crafted plan, she is going to make you hers, and from the way your eyes widen, it’s working.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, keeping her voice calm and quiet. Casual. Friendly. She’s practiced this. Billie shrugs, like it’s nothing, even though her pulse is thudding. She’s right here, finally close enough to talk to you, close enough to look into your eyes and see if you really are who she thinks you are. She��s imagined this moment too many times to count.

“I just… didn’t expect anyone else to be out here,” you say, your voice uncertain but trying to sound normal.

She smiles a little wider. “Me neither.” She lies. She knew you would be here. There’s a spark in her eyes, a look you don’t quite understand. “But I’ve seen you around. You like the quiet, don’t you?”

You blink, surprised. “How’d you know that?”

Billie shrugs, leaning against the streetlight, casual but purposeful. Careful, she thinks, don’t give away too much. “It’s just a vibe you give off.” She keeps her gaze steady on you, watching you closely, reading every flicker of confusion and curiosity on your face. There it is, she thinks, that look she’s been waiting to see. You’re intrigued.

“Do we… know each other?” you ask, trying to place her

Not yet, Billie thinks, her stomach twisting in a strange mix of excitement and nerves. “Maybe,” she says with a shrug, keeping her tone light. “But I feel like I know you.”

She’s been watching long enough to notice the little things—how you pause on certain street corners, the music you listen to, how you look around like you’re searching for something, or someone, too. It’s those details that made her stay, that made her start following you night after night. She felt the connection the moment she saw you, something raw and unexplainable. She wants to tell you all this, but not yet. Go slow, she tells herself. Make them want to know more.

“How do you mean?” you ask, frowning slightly, but not backing away.

She bites back a smile. “Hard to explain,” she says softly. “It’s like… I don’t know. Like I can see something in you.” She pauses, then lets a hint of vulnerability show, knowing it’ll pull you in. “And maybe you’d see something in me, too.”

You hesitate, clearly thrown off, but she can see you’re curious, maybe even flattered. Good, she thinks, pleased. You’re right where she wants you. You’re not running away.

She’s spent nights picturing this, waiting for the moment when she could be close enough to talk to you without the risk of being caught, of scaring you off. But she couldn’t just let you keep wandering off into the night, disappearing like a dream every time she got too close. She wants to be more than a shadow to you. She wants in.

“Are you scared of me?” she asks, her voice low, almost daring.

There’s a brief silence, and she almost worries she’s gone too far too fast. But then you meet her gaze, holding it steadily. “No,” you say softly. “I’m not scared.”

She lets herself grin, a dark thrill rushing through her. She likes the courage in your voice, the steadiness in your gaze. You’re exactly what I hoped for, she thinks. “Good,” she murmurs, stepping back just a bit, enough to make you want her to come closer again. “Because I don’t think I’m ready to let you go.”

She takes a step back, hands back in her pockets, still watching you with that quiet intensity. “I’ll see you again,” she says, barely above a whisper, but there’s a promise in her tone. Soon, she thinks, a smirk pulling at her lips. She knows where you’ll be, knows you’ll be back on these streets again. You can’t help it. And now, she’s made sure you’ll be looking for her, too.

Before you can respond, she slips back into the shadows, but she knows the memory of her will linger. She walks away, feeling the thrill of success prickling up her spine. This is only the beginning. She’s patient. She knows the game now. She’ll make herself part of your life, piece by piece, and she won’t stop until you’re hers.

[fayesia]

Day 2 - praise

"Babysitter" - Sub!Mike x reader

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ warnings - sex replacing money, dry humping, whiny!Mike, dom!reader, praise (duh)

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ wc - 985

Babysitting was one of the highlights of your week. Going from numerous kids a week, you now only babysat one alongside your new part-time job.

Abby was your favourite by far. Her overjoyed personality was easily enough to raise your spirits whenever you felt like life wasn't going your way. Just a few hours a week with her allowed you to balance out the draining days of work.

Hearing her talk about each drawing she had done without you, the details of the specific colours used and the arrangement of each figure on the paper was a topic you listened to her excitedly talk about for ages.

You knew that's something she needed. Having only mentioned her brother a few times, you gathered that he was her sole caretaker and worked night shifts.

Recently Abby changed her hour long talks from her drawing to the nights spent at her brothers work place, you've now been told that Mike works as a night security guard for a place that shut down years ago.

Explains why he didn't hire you for every night.

Normally, the money owed was on the living room table, stamped onto it by a mug filled with the remnants of what looked like morning coffee. Yet tonight, as you grabbed your bag after putting Abby to bed, the money was nowhere, just the lone mug.

As much as you did this job for Abby, you also really needed the money. So you waited. Mike would probably come home soon, or so you thought, and within a few minutes of waiting on the couch, it seemed the tiring day had caught up to you.

Your head hitting the arm rest with your bag still hanging off your shoulder.

You're startled awake, the feeling of a hand quickly moving off your shoulder waking you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you"

Meekly looking down at you was Abbys brother, Mike, his hands awkwardly shifting in his pockets.

"No, it's fine I should be on my way, must be pretty late"

Nodding his head he watched you stand ready to walk you to the door but you stopped.

"Hey uhm I didn't notice any cash on the table, just wondering if you mightve forgotten...or something"

You're friendly tone faltered as you saw the small smile drops from Mike's face.

"Yeah, sorry about that. i-its just that, I just got the new job, and they haven't given me my first pay cheque. I can check if I've got any cash saved in my room -"

You cut him off grabbing him by the hand as he turned to the direction of his room.

Holding onto it your thumb stroked the back of his hand, your eyes raking down his frame and back to his eyes full of stress and exhaustion.

"Listen it's fine, I work a part time so I can do without the pay for this week, at least."

You observed the breath of relief as he thanked you, a sudden urge of confidence rushing through you.

"Maybe you could pay me another way though..?"

Mike quizzically looked down at you, confusion soon erased off his face once you took another step forward now chest to chest with him.

Your lips quickly met his while you dragged him back to the couch, climbing onto his lap to straddle him. Parting from him a strand of spit connecting your lips to his, Mike's eyes were blown wide his pupils filling a large part of his brown iris'.

"Shit..this is..we can't your Abbys babysitter..fuck - wait keep going."

Mike's contradicting words were easily swayed to those of agreement as your hips dragged forward and backwards against his growing erection.

"You like that don't you, hm"

"Fuck yes please-please don't stop"

His hands had a tight grip on either side of your hips, you swiftly pulling them up and under your shirt, letting him explore your bra covered chest. His hands ferociously moved at the access to your skin, one travelling under your bra to caress the supple skin and growing bud.

With his head tilted back, you easily leaned forward, biting and kissing at Mike's neck, bruises had already begun to form. The soft pink hues were sure to transform into dark red bruises by morning.

He lets out whimpers at each of your movements, his hips now thrusting upwards to match with your own rhythm.

"Such a good boy" breathlessly you remove your shirt and unclipped your bra letting it fall to the floor, your pants joining the building pile of clothes.

Now, just in your panties, you straddled Mike again, but this time his dick was out, hard, wet, and thick. You rubbed against his erection, now it was just a thin piece of material separating your soaking pussy from Mike's cock.

He reacted even more needy to this, whines and pleas coming from his mouth.

"Please, wanna cum- please let me cum."

Panting out you placed your hand on his shoulder for balance, your hips moving more erratically.

"Wait baby, just a bit more-oh my fuck..I'm gonna come"

Looking into Mike's eyes, his Adams apple bobs up and down, they trail down your body before making eye contact again. A dazed look across both of your faces.

"Too much-im gonna cum"

Shaking your head side to side you crashed your lips against his, the wet saliva coating both of your swollen lips. Your tongue easily dominates his and its like he's become putty, you could make him do anything right now.

The kiss sends you over the edge, the coil snapping inside you, and you no longer hear Mike's whiny whimpers while your eyes are shut so tightly all you see are white flashes.

Coming back to reality, you feel thick, gooey liquid seeping into the material of your panties. Stroking the side of Mike's face, you head rest against his shoulder,

"Good boy did so good f'me"

Kinktober Masterlist