#So now I have anxiety about stupid things like taking a shower

[xx-sketchy-xx]

*grumble grumble* my photos are being annoying

LOOK AT THE COOL DUDES, I feel like Jax would try and make Wally commit as many crimes as possible with his eye eating powers

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[ravenromanova]

Make you mine

Parings: Bucky x Female reader

Warnings: SMUT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Slight metal arm kink, Breeding kink, Unprotected sex. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE

Summary: You try to cut off things with Bucky but he has other plans.

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!

~

The room was thick with tension and your heart was beating in your ears. You knew the arrangement you knew it was just sex so why did it hurt everytime he left? It hurt because you loved him even though you know you shouldn’t.

“I’ll see you after my mission Doll” He says quickly pulling up his pants along with throwing his shirt back on. Your eyes are stuck on him as he gathers his stuff from your room. He walks over and kisses your head before leaving…that’s new you thought to yourself.

“Yea” Was all you managed to say as you watched him leave your room. With a heavy sigh you lay back against your pillows and try not to cry. You felt so stupid, so weak, so pathetic for falling for him. You knew you needed to put a stop to this and you were going to do so when he came back.

Hours went by and you showered before making your way to the kitchen. When you walked in you were greeted with Natasha and Sam sitting at the island sipping their coffee.

“Hey sunshine” Natasha smiled at you while Sam smiled and greeted you as well.

“Morning guys” You said faking a happy tone and smile. Luckily for you they didn’t notice anything off with you and if they didnt say anything. So you just went about making your coffee and went to go sit outside by the lake out back.

The sun felt nice on your skin but not too much to overheat you due to the cool wind blowing by. A smile settles on your face as you watch the ducks by the lake and enjoy the caramel flavored coffee. While you sat there you got lost in your thoughts and started thinking about him. You couldn’t feel anything other than sadness was over your as you thought of him.

After about fifteen minutes of thinking you decided that you really needed to cut whatever this was off when he got back tomorrow from his mission. You couldn’t keep pretending you weren’t in love with him anymore. Once you figured out what you were going to say to him you decided to head back inside.

You walked back inside and went straight to your room without talking to anyone not wanting to be social at the moment. And when you walked into your room your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. There were rose petals on the bed, candles littered your shelves and desk. And the last thing you noticed was Bucky standing at the end of your bed.

“Bucky what is this? I thought you were on a mission?” You asked and he just smiled and walked closer.

“I was” He said taking your hands in his. “And now i’m just finishing it” You shot him a confused look clearly not getting what he was saying. “My mission is to make you mine” His voice was genuine as he spoke.

“B-But you said you didn’t want a relationship” Confusion and anxiety were laced in your voice. Bucky took his fingers and tilted your head back so you looked at him.

“I was wrong… I do want a relationship…One with you” His words got you like a truck and you’re eyes up with tears.

“I-I” The words come or broken and stuttered as you speak. Bucky takes this as his chance to show you how much he loves you. He takes your face in his hands and brings you into a deep and passionate kiss. Instinctively you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He uses this as an opportunity and grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he pins you against the wall.

The kiss is the most passionate kiss the two of you have ever shared. It was messy, heated and filled the air with extreme tension. You started to grind yourself against his crotch once you felt the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck doll you keep doing that i won’t be able to control myself” He grunted in your ear.

“Maybe i want you to lose control” You whisper against his lips and his eyes darken at your words.

“Fuck it” Bucky said and before you knew it you were thrown into your bed. He wasted no time in settling on top of you. His strong hands moved their way to your body before he ripped off your shirt. You gasped when his metal hand gripped your clothed chest. Bucky reached behind your back and unclamped your bra and rolled at your bare chest.

“So fucking pretty” He praised kissing your chest making you blush. Even though he’s probably fucked to over a hundred times by now you never ceased to amaze him. He took his time and worshipped each of your breasts leaving marks in his path before moving down.

“Please” You whined as you felt his hands travel down to the hem of your shorts. His metal hand slipped under both your shorts and underwear making you jump slightly.

“So wet bunny” He chided with a smile when he felt your slick cover his fingers. His flesh hand ripped off your shorts and underwear leaving you completely bare under him.

“Please Jamie please fuck me” You beg gripping onto his broad shoulders. Bucky smiled down and gave you a quick kiss before riding himself off his clothes. You couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you, he was the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid your eyes on. His toned chest and abs, The most crystal blue eyes, Long dark hair that you adored he was truly a work of art.

His hand roommate your body and gripped your hips as he admired the beautiful woman in front of him. “If we do this…it’s not like the other times understand me? You’re mine babygirl” He said with a softer tone than he’s been using.

“I’m yours Jamie” Those words leaving your mouth unlocked something primal in him and he wasted no time in pushing into you. Your hands flew to his shoulders when you felt his thick cock stretch you out. It had only been a day since you two last fucked but it always feels like wells with how big he is.

“So fucking tight baby” He grunted as he bottomed out hitting your g-spot. Your head flew back from the immense pleasure you felt. Bucky thrusted into you hard and with passion making your orgasm approach faster than anticipated.

“Fuck yes right there baby” You moaned feeling the tip of his cock hit that special spot over and over. Bucky’s grasp on your hips became tighter as his orgasm approached as well. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping and the wet sounds of your soaked pussy. And the air was thick with the smell of sex and Bucky’s cologne.

“Gonna fill you up bunny. Gonna fucking breed this tight pussy” He groaned as his thrusts began to falter. Your orgasm ripped through your abs your back arched as you came with a scream. Bucky’s orgasm came right after yours and he made good on his word and filled you up.

“Oh fuck Jamie” You moaned when he fucked his seed into you making sure none would leak out.

“Gonna make you a mommy” He said before he pulled out of you with a soft groan. The both of you were panting messes as you laid on your bed. After he caught his breath he pulled you on top on him and gave you a kiss.

“I love you y/n. I’m sorry i pushed you away. I’m sorry i made you feel like i didn’t want to. I love you more than anything and i swear to you is you’re mine i’ll make it up to you everyday of my life” He said genuinely as his thumb rubbed your cheek.

Hearing those words from him made your heart swell and your eyes water. “I love you too Bucky” You said tearfully bringing him into a deep yet soft kiss. Everything you’ve ever wanted is fully coming true and you couldn’t be happier.

That night the two of you proved your love for each other in every way possible. He told you throughout the whole night just how much he loved you. And you told him just how much he meant to you before you two fell into a blissful sleep.

~The end ~

[simpforboys]

you’ve bewitched me

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary: xavier takes your virginity.

warnings: smut!! loss of virginity, unprotected piv, soft!xavier, he’s a fat simp, fluffy smut, best friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), swearing

based on this !!!

the way you couldn’t get out of xavier’s head was driving him insane. he never knew he could need crave someone so bad. 

he remembered the moment so vividly. 

you two were walking in the rain as he held the umbrella for the both of you. you didn’t remember exactly how the topic came up, but you and your best friend had started talking about sexual experiences. 

“a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” xavier joked you rolled your eyes and nudged his shoulder, making the both of you laugh. 

“just tell me,” you groaned. 

“fine. bianca wanted me to eat her out once. things escalated from there and we ended up fucking.” xavier confessed, keeping his eyes down. 

your gasp made him jump. “damn... my best friend gets hella pussy then.” you joked as he sarcastically rolled his eyes, face blushing in embarrassment. 

“now what have you done?” xavier asked you. 

you pursed your lips together. the sound of the rain falling with leaves crunching filled the silence. 

“go on,” xavier said. your silence was making him nervous. 

“i’m a uh, a virgin.” 

xavier bit the inside of his cheek while nodding at you. 

‘thanks for the silence, asshole.” you said jokingly, trying to ignore the way your face felt hot. 

xavier was trying to ignore the blood rushing to his pants. 

xavier had been in love with you for years. he’d dated other girls to try and get over you, but they never ended up being you. 

but ever since your confession, he couldn’t help but want you even more. the amount of nights he’d spent jerking off to a vision of you in his head, the way he would do absolutely anything for you. 

xavier was so lost in thought he didn’t even notice his phone dinging. the only thing that snapped him out of his daydreams was a knock on the door to his room. 

 he opened the door to see you standing there, eyes wide and anxious. 

“why haven’t you been answering your phone?” you asked him. you pushed past your best friend as he confusedly shut and locked the door behind you. 

“busy thinking. what’s wrong?” he questioned. 

“you know that siren boy, kent?”

xavier nodded, eyebrows furrowed tightly together in hesitation. 

“he asked me to come to his dorm to do... things.” you said in embarrassment. 

xavier bit his tongue so hard he didn’t even realize it was bleeding slightly. 

“what things, y/n?” 

“he asked me to give him a blow job.” you confessed quietly, sitting on xavier’s bed as his tall frame stood in front of you. he was wearing grey sweatpants with a red shirt on, his hair damp from a shower. 

the pang of jealousy that shot through xavier felt almost like a stab in the gut. 

“so why are you here then?” xavier asked, trying to keep his cool. 

“i need, uh, never mind. it was stupid for me to come here.”

“answer me, y/n.” 

“i’m scared, okay? i’ve never done anything like that before and i guess i just wanted... i don’t know... lessons?” 

xavier’s heartrate spiked tremendously. oh my god. 

“i’m sorry-” you began but xavier cut you off. 

“i mean, i can definitely help.” 

“really?” you questioned, staring straight up at him. your stomach hurt from anxiety and you swore you’d never noticed how gorgeous your best friend was until he looked at you with such lust in his eyes. 

“is this okay?” he whispered, leaning down as his left hand moved to cup your jaw. you nodded against his hand as he kissed you. 

you kissed back, the feeling weird. it felt like electricity was connecting your lips together, an addictive feeling. neither of you could get enough of it. 

xavier moved to lie you down on the bed, his lips not leaving yours. 

your own hands pulled his waist close to you, feeling his hard cock on your thigh. holy fuck, this is happening. 

“are you sure you want this?” xavier mumbled against your neck.

“mmm please, yes,” you gasped as you felt him suck a hicky.

he stopped momentarily to remove his shirt. his heart was racing as you also removed yours. he’d never seen you in a bra before and the look of your tits made him start to drool.

the way he stared at you made you feel incredibly nervous and as you tried to cover yourself up, he began sucking hickies along your boobs.

“xavier,” you whimpered. xavier swore that was the hottest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“you’re so pretty, y/n.” xavier told you as his big hands removed your sweatpants and panties.

you undid your bra and suddenly realized how vulnerable and exposed you were. but yet, xavier made you feel safe.

you watched as his head went between your already shaking thighs and sucked teasingly close to your cunt.

“holy fuck!” you accidentally yelped as his tongue came in contact with your clit.

you felt him smirking against your pussy as he ate it like it was his last meal. your back arched as you gripped his hair.

the feeling of having your pussy getting eaten by your best friend was euphoric and you were on cloud 9.

“that feel good, y/n?” xavier hummed.

“so good, please don’t stop,” you begged.

the new pleasure was too much. you were a shuttering mess as he continued to suck your clit, two fingers stretching out your soaking wet pussy.

“i’m already gonna cum-“ you moaned.

“cum for me, y/n.” xavier’s pride was beaming as he watched you squirm for him. he was so fucking hard for you.

your body trembled as your orgasm hit you like a truck. your breathing was heavy and your skin was damp with sweat. 

xavier moved to sit back. 

“do you still wanna learn about that blowjob?” he asked after you calmed down from your high. you nodded as you got on your knees in front of xavier. 

your heart continued to pound. you shakily gripped his hard cock. xavier immediately noticed your nerves. 

“what’s wrong?” he questioned, worry written all over his face. 

“i don’t really know what i’m doing.” you let out a breathy laugh. xavier smiled from your confession, leaning down to kiss you. 

“i’ll help you. start by licking the tip.” 

you followed your best friend’s instruction. you began to lightly lick the tip of his leaking cock and felt him shudder against you. 

“fuck- now try sucking the head and jerk me off in your hand.”

you brought the head into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. your right hand began to jerk the base of his cock, feeling xavier’s own hand come up to hold your hair back. 

“good girl. holy shit-” xavier whimpered. 

the sight laid out in front of you was engraved permanently in your brain. xavier, your best friend, with his head leaned back as you sucked his dick. he looked like a fucking god and you knew there was no going back from this. 

you started to gradually suck further down until you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. fighting the gag, you desperately focused on trying to get him to cum in your mouth. 

“so, so, so good for me, y/n.” 

tears formed in your eyes as you gagged on his cock. hearing xavier whimper  your name with praises almost made you cum again. 

“i’m so fucking close, if you don’t wanna swallow it then- oh shit.” xavier spurted hot cum into your mouth. the liquid tasted salty but not in a bad way. 

now it was xavier’s turn for his breathing to be jagged. you stood back up, your naked body in all its glory. you laid down on his twin size bed, his eyes following yours as you spread your legs. 

“please take my virginity, xavier. please.” you begged. 

xavier’s whole body was overwhelmed with ecstasy. “i don’t have a condom.” he breathed out, his body now hovering over yours. 

“i don’t fucking care- i need you so bad.” 

xavier kissed your lips again. you held his hand as he rubbed his tip and down your cunt. “tell me if you need me to stop.”

with that, he slowly pushed in. your pussy was so wet it was almost went in with one motion. he went all the way in slowly, watching your face for any sort of discomfort. 

“oh my god-” he whispered. your pussy felt amazing on his hard cock and all he wanted to do was fuck you. but this was about you. and he didn’t want to ruin this intimate moment for you. 

“you okay?” he whispered against your neck. 

“it feels weird.” you mumbled back. you felt stuffed, yet so needy. 

“can you please move?” you asked. 

xavier started to slowly move his hips in and out. his hair fell in front of his face. 

“fuck-” you moaned. 

his hand came down and rubbed circles against your clit. your body felt extremely hot from the overwhelming amount of pleasure it was receiving. 

“you feel so good. my good girl, right?” he asked, eyes looking directly into yours. 

you nodded quickly. “i’m all yours, xavier.” 

he continued to fuck your cunt. the only thing that was heard was the sound of skin slapping skin, both of your moans, and the bed squeaking. 

“i’m gonna cum again, xavier.” you announced. 

“me too,” he mumbled. the pleasure was becoming too much for him as your pussy clenched against him.

“holy fuck- shit.” your second orgasm overcame your body. xavier kept his finger on your clit, fucking you through your orgasm. when he felt his own, he quickly pulled out and jerked the tip of his cock. warm cum spurted out onto your stomach and his hips bucked against his hand. 

he plopped down next to you, both breathing heavily and tired. the temperature of the room was very hot and humid. 

after a couple moments of silence, xavier whispered, “i love you, y/n. not in a friend way. i want to be more then friends.”

“i love you too, xavier. i want to be more then friends.” 

xavier leaned up on his elbow, looking down happily at your face. 

“let me take you out tomorrow?” 

“it’s a date.”

xavier and you both smiled as he leaned down and kissed you once again. 

“also, fuck kent. i’ll tell him to go fuck himself.” 

you laughed at xavier’s attitude. 

“if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have been here.” you murmured, drawing circles on xavier’s chest. 

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter Nine - Cough Cough I'm Sick

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

1.3K

(idk who sorts out the media stuff so i just said marketing manager)

Series Masterlist

Here's the thing, it was exactly what it looked like. Max let out a laugh as he looked at the papaya drivers panicked. "Relax," he said quickly and walked out of the driver's room. "I'll meet you both outside."

Y/N and Lando looked at each other as Max shut the door. "Fuck," she whispered as she pulled her clothes back onto her body. She swapped Landos shirt for her own.

Wordlessly, Y/N left his drivers room. She pushed past Max and sped walked out of the track. She was so fucking stupid - this was why they had those rules in the first place!

And now that Max knew, what was going to happen?

She didn't sleep that night, anxiety overtaking her. For the first time of the grand prix weekend, Y/N checked her phone. She went onto her private account, went to the for you page (for the memes) and was immediately flooded with pictures of her in Landos hoodie. Fuck, that was right. She was wearing Landos hoodie.

She didn't know if Lando went to the club with Max, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around her pillow and tried to get some sleep.

***

They'd been home for two days and they hadn't slept together. It was unusual, but Lando couldn't blame her, especially after what had happened in Spain.

He missed her. Which, this time just a few months ago, would have felt impossible. But he really did miss her, everything about her.

She didn't entirely avoid him, but it felt like she didn't want him anymore. They hadn't properly spoken since the grand prix, almost like they weren't even friends anymore.

Lando kept himself busy. He gamed and streamed a lot, rarely giving himself time to think about the little hole in his heart.

It was an overreaction, Y/N knew. But she was terrified of the consequences that they'd inevitably get. So far, nothing had happened. But that didn't mean it wasn't coming.

The next week was the Canadian grand prix. For every grand prix since they began living together, Y/N and Lando had travelled together. One of them would usually drive to the grand prix, taking it in turns.

This time, though, Y/N travelled alone. She made her own way to the grand prix, over thinking and then sleeping on the flight.

Lando hadn't realised she'd left. He knocked on her bedroom and pushed it open. "Y/N?" He called, but she wasn't there, already on her way to Canada.

Obviously, Y/N arrived before him. She’d slept on the flight, sure, but she still made her way to her bedroom for a nap. Exhaustion gripped her as she got under the blankets and closed her eyes, still in her travelling clothes.

When Y/N woke up, there was insistent knocking on her hotel room door. “Fine, alright!” She shouted, her voice croaky. Her throat killed as she pulled open the door and came face to face with the McLaren marketing manager. “Hey,” Y/N said, rubbing at her eyes.

“You’re meant to be doing media things with Lando,” the marketing manager said quickly.

“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath and checked the time on her phone. Had she really been asleep for that long? “Okay, I’ll get dressed.”

She shut the door and got changed. What she would have loved to do was take a shower, but with the way the marketing manager was talking, she definitely didn’t have time.

As soon as she was dressed, Y/N followed the marketing manager down to the lobby of the hotel. Outside there was a car waiting for her. She climbed into the back seat and pressed her head against the cool window as they drove towards the track.

Somehow, she fell asleep in the car once again. She woke up to somebody shaking her shoulder, and was quick to follow them into the McLaren hospitality unit. Her had swam as she walked, but she ignored it; she had a job to do.

It was the first time she had seen Lando since she left their apartment. “Hey,” she said through a croaky voice as she sat in the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” Asked Lando, his arm resting on the sofa behind her.

Y/N quickly moved it. She nodded her head and looked at the camera in front of them as a member of staff past her and Lando question cards.

***

She was sick. That was clear to anyone as she threw up into her bathroom. But to her, it was just stress. She’d had a taste of her first win and she wanted more. Th thought of trying to keep being consistent was making her so stressed that she was coming across sick.

She threw up before qualifying. How she made it all the way to Q3, she didn’t know, but she struggled to qualify in the top five. As soon as qualifying was done, Y/N rushed back to the hotel room while the team at McLaren took care of the media for her. She managed to avoid fans as she was driven back to the hotel.

As soon as she was in her room as she asleep on her bed, still wearing the McLaren shirts and shorts that she had left the circuit in. She didn’t even climb under the covers before falling asleep, her head just about on the pillow.

Again, she woke up to somebody knocking at her door. Again, she reluctantly stood up and pulled open the door.

Only this time, it was Lando on the other side of the door. “Shit,” he whispered as he looked at her. “You look…”

“Like shit,” Y/N answered for him.

“Are you okay?” Lando asked again and Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against the wood of the door frame. But Lando clearly didn’t believe her. He stared at her, raising his eyebrows, waiting for her to take it back, to tell him that she was feeling as terrible as she looked.

Still, she couldn’t admit it. Lando tried to walk past her, to get into her room, but she stood in his way. “What do you want, Lando?”

“I want you to admit that you’re sick and let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to take care of me,” she said, somewhat stubbornly.

So, Lando grabbed a hold of her shoulders and forced his way into her room. He sat the door behind him and sat her on the bed. “Talk to me,” he said, kicking off his shoes and laying back against her pillows.

“About what?” She spat back, crossing her arms as she looked out of the window.

“About why you’re not talking to me.”

She visibly deflated. Fuck, she had missed him, but their last time had scared her enough to keep her away. No, he was just asking to get into her head before the race.

“Max hasn’t told anybody, you know,” he said, leaning forward and placing his large hand on her shoulder. “He’s not going to.”

Y/N twitched her head towards him, but she didn’t say anything.

“We could go back to the way we were, you know,” Lando continued. “I… I miss you and I want to go to how we were.”

She let out a sob and wiped beneath her eyes. She missed it too. Missed him. “I-“ but she couldn’t say more than that.

Wordlessly she crawled towards him. she laid down beside him, placing her head on his chest. “Lando, we can’t tonight,” she said.

“I know,” he responded with a nod. “You’re sick.”

“I’m not sick!” She insisted.

“You’re sick.”

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @hollie911 @topguncultleader @annispamz @carlossainzwho @spideybv28 @wherethefuckisthething @fangirl125reader @minkyungseokie @marialovesf1 @kitixie @i-wish-this-was-me @bborra @formula1mount @charlotte1697 @formulaal @eviethetheatrefreak @lordpercivalcharles @venisvendetta @marie0v @tbsloneely @laur20a23 @formulas-bitch @cmleitora @marvelavengers000 @gills-lounge @andydrysdalerogers @demipatterns @holy-macncheese-balls @jule239 @aexitizen-ln4 @landosgirlxoxo @allinestarr @starmanv @st0rmzi3 @random-human02 @nocoolusernamesavailable-blog @happymeal777 @ashy-kit @juniper-july19 @im-an-overthinker @haylenxx @kapsylia @prettiest-at-the-party @urfavnoirette @norassimpingzone @thehufflepuffavenger1 @taintet @amorydsmt @hi00000234567 @iamkaku @maxv33rstappen @noneofyourfbusinessworld @thatsusbitch @izzy-marvel @carqueensworld

[millyhelp]

How would Jason act if he found out you were pregnant?

Headcanon

warnings: angst! Sad shit with happy ending! anxiety and panic attack! Jason has very low self-esteem, so I warn you that he will depreciate himself a lot. mentions of sex. mentions of death. reader comforting Jason. English is not my first language, sorry for the grammar mistakes (if it have any)

•You had been acting strange for a few weeks now.

•You were eating more than usual.

•And feeling sicker than normal.

•Jason thought it was a virus.

•Then came the mood changes.

"Get out!" You shouted at him and threw a pillow at the man "You don't love me!"

"Doll, I just said I wouldn't make your pancake now because I need to go on patrol..." He said in a calm tone of voice

"It's the same thing!" you whined

•After a while, you were the one who noticed the changes.

•Your period had been late for a month.

•You were feeling hungrier than usual and wanting to eat strange things.

•You wanted to eat that strange mess that Starfire makes.

•Another month has passed.

•Your belly was a different size.

•After noticing this, you purchased 7 tests.

•Only one tested negative.

• Your luck is that Jason wasn't home, otherwise he would have heard your scream.

•What were you waiting for? You have a lot of sex, and babies comes from that.

•You were happy, but worried about Jason's reaction.

•You've been married for three years, you've talked about babies before.

•But you still worry, you know how Jason's mind works.

•You did your best to hide the tests and thought about how to tell Jason.

•He was away on a mission with Bruce and would only return at dawn.

•You decided to tell him in the morning.

•You would wake him up with a beautiful breakfast and tell him.

•As it was still afternoon, you had time to go shopping for a few things.

•You bought a small box with red baby shoes. You also went to the market and bought things to make Jason's favorite cake.

•Everything was perfect, or almost perfect.

•You hid things in the kitchen so you could make them for him in the morning, and went to sleep.

•When Jason arrived it was around three in the morning.

•He came in through the window and smiled when he saw you sleeping peacefully in the bed the two of you shared.

•He needed a shower urgently, so he went to take a shower.

•He took a warm, relaxing bath. When he was drying himself he looked around.

•The bathroom cabinet was not closed properly. It looked like there was something preventing it from closing.

•When Jason opened the closet to find out what was stopping it from closing, all the tests fell to the floor.

•Jason frowned and swore a fuck!

•He bent down and picked up the tests in his hand.

•Six positives and only one negative. Was that yours? It was obvious that it was.

•You don't know how to hide anything from him.

•Fuck, he's going to be a dad!

•Jason began to feel panicked. His breathing became unregulated.

•Still with the towel around his waist, Jason sat on the floor of the large bathroom.

•Suffocating.

•Suffocating.

•Suffocating.

•Jason gasped for air.

•Shit. Will he be a good father?

•He doesn't deserve this.

•He must be dead and not reproducing.

•He's just a stupid thing that should be dead.

•Jason tried to get up. His breathing was still uneven, he felt weak and ended up falling with a loud noise.

•You woke up with noise and looked around.

•"Jace? Are you home?" Your sleepy voice sounded loud, but Jason couldn't hear it, he was deep in his own panic.

•You got up and noticed the bathroom light on. Fuck! The tests!

•You quickly opened the bathroom door and found Jason on the floor struggling to breathe and with the seven tests on the floor next to him.

•"Jason!" You ran over to him and sat on his lap.

You placed both hands on his face.

"Jason, look at me!" His eyes looked into yours "Breathe... come on, breathe with me"

•Breathe, he had to breathe.

•"One..." you breathed in and so did he. "Two..." you breathed out and so did he.

"Three..." again you breathed in and so on until he could breathe.

Tears welled up in his eyes and Jason began to cry. It had been months since he had a crisis like this, the last time was when he was kidnapped by the three jokers.

"Jace... talk to me" You gently wiped his tears away. "You found the tests, didn't you?"

You looked to the side where the tests were on the floor.

"I..." Jason sobbed and tears fell "I'm going to be a dad?..."

"Yes, Jace..." you smiled lovingly "You're going to be a dad..."

"I don’t deserve." More tears fell and he closed his eyes shaking his head "I don't deserve it. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve it."

"Hey. Shh, Shh, Shh, Shh" You wiped his tears away again and he opened his eyes "Listen to me. You deserve it. Okay? You deserve it so much!"

Jason's blue eyes looked so deep now because of the tears and the heavy feeling in his chest.

"I should be dead, Yn..." He sobbed again "Not having kids..."

"But for some reason you're here with me, and I'm pregnant." You smiled at him, trying to reassure him.

"I love you, Jason. And this..." you took his hands and placed them on your stomach "It's one of the ways that love manifests itself."

Jason looked at where you placed his hands. He stroked yoour belly.

"Love. This is love." He spoke in a tearful voice and you nodded.

"I'm going to be a father..." He gave a weak smile "That explains your mood swings." He looked into her eyes "I love you so much. I feel like I'm not enough for you, will I be enough for our baby?"

"You are already enough. Always have been and always will be." You spoke with certainty and looked into Jason's eyes.

"You're going to be a great father." You smiled

"Do you really think?" He looked into your eyes looking for an answer

"I'm sure about that." You spoke and he kissed you.

•Jason has always been sensitive. But he's great with kids. So it will be great for your son or daughter (I dare say it will be a girl).

•"You weren't supposed to find out like that..." you giggled as your forehead was on his.

"You don't know how to hide things from me, I'm a detective trained with batman." Jason laughed and gave you a peck.

"Don't judge me." You pulled away and rolled your eyes, "I was going to tell you in the morning. I was going to make your favorite cake and make everything you like. I was going to prepare you, you know?"

"Well, I'll still take the cake." He said playfully.

"Silly. I'll do it tomorrow. But we need to go to sleep" You got up and he got up right behind you.

"Oh yeah?" He adjusted the towel around his waist again "We could practice making future babies..."

"Jason, this one isn't even born yet" You laughed and lay down on the bed

"So?" He shrugged "Practice makes perfect."

"Go to sleep, Mr. Todd." You opened your arms to him and he laid on your chest.

"Hmm... don't think I forgot about the cake you're going to make." He grumbled but soon fell asleep.

•He really didn't forget about the cake.

I CRIED SO MUCH WRITING THIS 😭🫡

Jason dad of a girl team!

[eddieschains]

Smoke And Mirrors

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

TW// 18+, slut shaming kinda, marijuana consumption, slight bondage, oral (m receiving), humping, let me know if i missed anything !!

You and Eddie rarely ever fought. And when you did, it was always resolved within an hour or so. This time was different. You knew you crossed a line as soon as you said it, but you weren’t sure how to apologize.

Honestly, you were usually pretty calm during your arguments. You never screamed at each other, and both of you made up soon after it was over. This time though, you weren’t sure how to recover.

It was the dumbest thing you’d ever fought over, and you’d fought over some stupid shit. You came into the auto shop to bring Eddie lunch, and saw a pretty blonde girl talking to him at the counter. The way she batted her eyelashes and flicked her hair over her shoulder was all too much for your jealousy to handle.

You kept it cool at the shop, not wanting to cause a disruption. But as soon as he walked through the apartment door, all hell broke loose. You know you shouldn’t have snapped at him the way you did, but your emotions couldn’t help themselves sometimes.

“Who was that girl?” You interrogate with your hands on your hips, and your head cocked to the side.

He hadn’t even taken his shoes off at the door before you started going in. “What girl?” He scoffs, hanging his coat on the rack.

“The girl. The one at the shop. Giving you those fuck me eyes.” You walk closer to him, wanting to see how his face reacted to your questions.

He sighs as he takes his shoes off and makes his way to the kitchen for an after work beer. “No one was giving me fuck me eyes, babe.”

“I fucking saw it!” You follow him into the kitchen, hovering over him wherever he moved. “Don’t act dumb with me, I know what I saw. And you didn’t seem to want to stop it either.”

“Just because a girl comes in the shop and tries to flirt her way into a deal doesn’t mean i’m gonna stop being nice. It’s called customer service.” He groans, making his way to the couch and turning on the TV, obviously trying to stop the argument from happening.

“Customer service.” You scoff, standing on the other end of the couch. “Yeah, sure looked like you were ready to service that fucking customer.”

He slams his beer on the coffee table and turns to look at you. “Can you fucking stop? I wasn’t flirting with her, I don’t want her. I want you. If she was flirting with me then that’s on her, not me.”

“I find that quite hard to believe coming from a man who used to throw his dick around for any girl who wanted the slightest deal on their drugs in school.” The second you said it, you regretted it. It was a sensitive topic that he didn’t like remembering. He told you about that part of his life in confidence, and here you were using it against him.

His face immediately dropped, you weren't sure if it was anger or sadness, but you knew either one wasn’t good. He stood up and started putting his shoes and coat on before grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door.

“Where are you going?” Your tone is a bit softer now, knowing you’re treading through deep water.

“M’leaving. If you want to sit here and berate me over something that didn’t even happen, then have at it. But I'm not gonna fucking take it.” He walks out, slamming the door behind him making you wince.

Once you hear his van speed off, you run your hands across your face, racking your brain around how you’d fix this. You sit in bed for about an hour, waiting for him to come back before you finally accept the fact that he’ll come back on his own once he calms down. Which you also knew could take a while.

You decide to take a shower and get ready for bed, not expecting him to come back any time soon. You’re able to calm your own anxiety down a bit as the hot water rushes over your body. Once you’re done with your shower, you spend a little extra time in there collecting your thoughts, thinking of ways to apologize once Eddie does return.

When you make your way into the bedroom, you’re met with Eddie sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the TV with a joint in his mouth. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, even though you know he’s not high enough to not realize you’re standing right next to him.

“Didn’t hear you come in.” You state as you walk towards the dresser to fish out some pajamas.

“Been here for about 20 minutes. You were in the shower.” He responds, taking a hit off of his joint and keeping his eyes on the TV.

You grab some night clothes and place them on the bed, sighing as you walk over to him. “I’m sorry… I-I shouldn’t have said what I did. I know that was a low blow and- I’m just sorry.” Eddie stays silent, not giving you the time of day with even some eye contact. He just sits there and continues smoking and watching TV. “Can you at least look at me, please? I’m really sorry, I am. Just tell me how to make it up to you and- and I’ll do it.” Eddie finally looks up at you with little to no emotion behind his eyes. You try to read his thoughts, but there truly is nothing there to work with.

“Come here.” He says flatly, spreading his legs open as an invitation for you to stand between them. You make your way over, nudging yourself in between his thighs as you hold your towel up and look down at him. He takes the joint out of his mouth and presses it against yours. You open up slightly as he places it between your lips. “Turn around.”

You abide, turning around while still holding your towel up by your chest. He wraps his arms around your upper body, taking your wrists in his hands and pulling your arms down, allowing the towel to drop at your feet. You shudder as the cold air hits your body, causing goosebumps to appear along your skin.

He lets go of your wrists, letting your arms hang at your sides as you hear him play with the buckle of his belt. Your body tenses as you wonder what his next move will be. He shimmies the belt out of the loops and grabs your wrists again, pulling them together behind your back. He wraps the belt around them, tying it in place so you can’t move out of the restraint.

He places his hands on your hips and turns you to face him once again. “Now…” He starts as he pulls his shirt above his head, and lowers his pants slightly to reveal a smidge of his happy trail. “You’re gonna sit right here, and you’re gonna rub your little cunt along my stomach until you cum all over me.”

You look at him dumbfounded. Unsure as to what kind of satisfaction this would really bring either of you, but you still decide to do as he says. You straddle his lap, pulling yourself higher up so you’re sat on his lower stomach as you feel the thick hair of his happy trail brush against your clit, sending a shiver down your body. He takes the joint from your mouth and plops it back in his, taking a long hit before blowing it directly in your face. “Go on, then.”

You start to grind yourself into him, immediately understanding exactly why he wanted you to do this. The feeling of his coarse hair on his lower stomach gliding against your clit was way more satisfactory than you thought it would be. Eddie doesn’t react at all. Even with your growing arousal pouring around him, he makes no noise, and no movement. That is until you feel his hands come up to your hips, stilling them for a moment.

He moves down to the corner of the bed, facing the full length mirror perched against the wall. “I need to see how needy your pussy is for just my stomach.” You let out a breathy moan at his words before going back to pushing yourself up and down his little happy trail.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the mirror, watching your slick coat his skin as you glide around him, and the way you try to writhe out of the belt with every shift. He keeps one hand by his side, while the other continues to pull the joint in and out of his mouth. You speed up your movements, hoping to gain some sort of reaction out of him. But, it only results in a larger reaction from yourself.

Your breathing gets heavy with every brush against your clit, your moans get raspier and more frequent as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. You know Eddie can feel it. He can always tell by the way your pussy pulses and throbs around him, exactly how it was right now.

“Eddie… I’m- I’m close.” You pant, only moving faster on top of him.

He takes a long drag, blowing it out above your head. “I said you were gonna keep going until you came all over me. So, cum.” He says completely emotionless. You bury your head in his chest, panting and moaning as you rock faster and harder into him, his thick hair creating just the right amount of friction against your sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Eddie… I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna-” You can’t even finish your sentence before your legs begin to shake as your orgasm rushes over you. You fall into his chest as you paint his entire lower stomach in your slick.

“Good girl.” He coos, still not a lot of emotion in his tone. You keep your head buried in his chest as you try to catch your breath, before he brings his hand to your face. He grabs you by the jaw, moving your head so that you’re looking up at him. “Open up.” He taps your lips with his index finger as you open wide. He holds the joint in between his fingers, placing it in his mouth before inhaling a large amount of smoke and blowing it directly into yours.

He drags his thumb from your top lip to your bottom, making you close your mouth as he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You look up at him, holding it in for a moment before blowing it out right into his face. He chuckles softly, the most emotion you’ve gotten out of him all night.

You start to slide off of him as you feel the growing bulge in his pants. You look up at him with a smirk, and he cocks his head to the side. “You got yourself into this mess, you’re gonna get yourself out of it. Get on your knees and put that fucking mouth to work.”

You nod, sliding down onto your knees in front of him. You try to move your hands to pull his pants down before you remember they’re tied behind you. “My hands are behind my back.”

“And they’re gonna stay like that.” He says sternly. He lifts his hips off the bed slightly, before pushing his jeans down with his boxers and allowing them to pool at his ankles. Your mouth salivates at the sheer image of his hard cock springing up to his stomach. “Well… It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You lick your lips and scoot closer to him, kissing the tip and kitten licking around it. He reaches down and squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips purse out. “Did I say I wanted you to tease me?” You look at him and shake your head. “I said suck it. So… suck.it.”

Your eyes glisten as you give him a look of agreement before he lets go of your face. You lick a hard stripe from the base to the tip to coat him in your saliva before taking him all in your mouth. You moan immediately as you're met with the taste of him, the small amount of precum leaking out of his tip and coating your tastebuds.

You look up at him as you begin to bob your head up and down, hoping to see him with his eyes closed and head thrown back like normal. But instead, he just stares as he lights up another joint, inhaling and blowing it out in your face as you take his cock as far as you can.

You try your best to keep your eyes on him, trying to gain some kind of reaction as you swivel your mouth around him every time you reach the tip again. Nothing. Usually, you’d be quite irritated by the fact that he hasn’t shown you the slightest amount of pleasure in all of this other than his hard cock, but honestly, it was kind of turning you on even more than normal.

Being tied up and used for his liking is only making your already dripping cunt grow wetter. You speed up your movements, taking him deeper with every stroke of your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

“See how much better it is when your mouth is full of my cock and not bullshit accusations?” You hum around him, not wanting to risk a punishment of letting go. You breathe deep through your nose to allow you to keep going once you feel his cock start to throb inside of you.

Turning your eyes back to his, you see them twitch as he gets closer to reaching his own high. You smirk around him before deciding to go full on. You straighten your back so that you’re able to reach the top of him easier as you take him down your throat as fast and hard as possible, hollowing your cheeks at the same time to create a tighter space for him.

Your tits bounce up and down with every bob of your head, and you feel his legs start to stiffen. You think you hear a small moan escape from his mouth, so you look up at him through your eyelashes to see his mouth slightly agape as his left hand fists the sheets below him.

“Keep fucking going.” He growls through gritted teeth, placing the joint back in his mouth as he removes his gaze from you and places it on the mirror behind you. Your head is moving so fast that it’s making the bed bounce below him.

His legs spasm below your chest as he twitches in your mouth. You suck him a few more times, squeezing your cheeks around the shaft of his cock before the taste of his cum spills inside your mouth without warning. You keep sucking, wanting to milk him for everything he’s worth as you feel spurt after spurt coating the entirety of your tongue and throat. You swallow him down while he’s still in your mouth, making him twitch again before you keep sucking.

His legs begin to shake as he squirms underneath you, groaning profanities above you and fisting the sheets with both hands now, getting ash from the joint all over the bed. You snicker quietly as you watch him struggle to keep his composure, before he’s gripping you by the hair and pulling you off of him.

“Jesus, I said suck my dick not take my whole soul.” He chuckles breathlessly, brushing your hair out of your face, finally showing you some kind of affection.

“S’too good. Couldn’t help myself.” You smile, licking your lips of his taste.

“C’mere.” He places his hand around your jaw, softly this time as he pulls you up and kisses you with more of a sense of love than lust.

You hum softly into his mouth before pulling back. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, I forgive you.” He smiles and places a peck to your forehead as he reaches behind you and unties the belt from your wrists. “This time…” He smirks with a smack to your ass.

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You (Part |||)

Pairing -> ninthmember!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~2,700 words Includes -> Reader has anxiety, fluff, and maybe some angst due to the beef with Hyunjin Summary -> You prepare for the day trying not to let your nerves for the concert later take over. This should be easy with Minho by your side but the grudge is still being held strong between you and Hyunjin. They say time heals, but can time heal this? Author's note -> Hi everyone! Welcome to part three of this little mini series. I didn't expect for this to be even more than one part but now I'm thinking it's gonna be around 4 or 5 parts to completely finish it off. I was gonna try and make this the final part but I realized writing short chapters feels much less overwhelming to me so I decided to break it down a little bit. I hope you like it! Let me know your thoughts in the comments <3

♡ Masterlist // Previous // Next ♡

"You have got to be joking right now..." you mutter to yourself as you frantically look around the bathroom. You had completely forgot to bring clothes to get dressed in after you showered. Hyunjin left a while ago and after a few laughs with your new love, you had decided to actually get ready for the day, realizing you can't spend the whole morning alone with Minho, no matter how much you want to. There's too many things to do today.

So, you had left Minho to go take a shower without too much thought. Well obviously not much thought considering you forgot your clothes. You could easily slip your pajamas back on and go get your clothes, but they were dirty and you were clean. You hate having to wear dirty clothes after a morning shower. It was supposed to be the start to a fresh day. With a concert later tonight, you are already anxious enough as it is. The shower did help a little, but this situation, although a bit silly, is souring your mood a bit. On days like these, you just want everything to go right, so it can get frustrating when little things happen. You take a deep breath, not wanting to let your thoughts go any further.

'Hyunjin would understand' you think, saddened by the events of last night. Normally, he would be the first one you would go to when you got nervous

You sigh, annoyed with your thoughts, and grab the wrinkled sweatpants and t-shirt. It'll have to do. You guys just started dating the day before, you don't wanna scare the poor man away by immediately walking out nearly naked with just a towel to cover.

Just as you're about to slip the shirt back on, your nose wrinkled in disgust, you notice a piece of black cloth resting on the counter next to the sink. Your mood instantly shifts as an idea pops into your head.

You swiftly grab it from the sink, unfolding it so that it is no longer inside out, and just like you thought a familiar design appears on the front. It's one of Minho's favorite shirts. He must of left in here last night when he changed into his pajamas. You smile, admiring the stupid drawings on the front. They are just so fitting to Minho.

Without a second thought, you slip the shirt on, getting a whiff of Minho's cologne as it passes over your face. Looking in the mirror, you notice that it covers just enough to not be too scandalous, especially with your underwear on. Minho wasn't too much bigger than you, but the couple inch height difference and his wider frame made for the perfectly oversized shirt.

It was the perfect solution; you got to wear Minho's shirt, you didn't have to walk out in a towel, and you didn't have to put all your clothes back on from last night. And hopefully, Minho's reaction will be an added bonus.

You open the door and venture out into the room, immediately seeing Minho. He's now fully dressed since he took a shower the night before when you were busy having an argument. He's on his phone patiently waiting for you while sitting in the chair Hyunjin had vacated just about an hour earlier.

He looks up upon hearing the bathroom door open, and you make eye contact. As he does so, his soft brown hair falls in front of his eyes. He uses a hand to brush it away, lightly threading through his hair. You see his eyes widen a bit at your choice of outfit and you send him a shy smile back before walking softly over to your suitcase. You bend over, making sure everything is still covered, and grab the casual clothes you had planned for today. You always dressed as comfy as possible before you had to get into the extravagant outfits the stylists prepared for the concerts. They weren't too bothersome, but sometimes the tight clothes weren't your preferred choice for all the dancing that comes with going on stage. But hey, at least you looked hot.

You stand back up after gathering the soft cotton into your hands. You're a little surprised upon feeling arms wrap around your waist. You smile as the scent of Minho's cologne yet again fills your senses; It's one of the many things you love about him.

He pulls you closer so you’re pushed against his front, his head resting on your shoulder. Your heart starts to best faster and you realize just how comforting his hugs are. You could really get addicted to this fast.

"You look so beautiful," he says softly. His breath hits your neck, sending goosebumps down the rest of your body. He doesn't say anything, but you know he had to have noticed. You're glad he doesn't make a remark, but you know just how caring and observant Minho can be. You can't help but think he's already stored that bit of information away for another time.

"My hair's wet, and I'm not even dressed yet," you say with a giggle.

"I know, I just can't believe I missed out on this for so long," he says as his grip around you tightens slightly. You can practically feel him start to recall memories from the past few years, of the way he used to treat you. It's a wonder how this is the same man who was ignoring you just days ago. But you wouldn't trade it for the world, you would stay in his arms forever if you could. He's the same Minho you used to know all those years ago, before all the insecurities got between you two.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door pulling the two of you out of your daydream.

"God, why can't they just leave us alone," he says, rolling his eyes. You just laugh at the remark, aware of just how much Minho really loves those guys. Sure, they can be annoying sometimes, but you grow to love it.

He brings his head off of your shoulder, pecking your cheek as he moves away. Heat floods your face, despite already having a more intimate kiss with Minho the night before. Your confident that no matter how long your relationship manages to last, his affect will never wear off. Minho is just the type of person you can't help but be in love with.

He shuffles away from you and you move to go back into the bathroom, excited to finally finish getting ready for the day. Minho opens the door, not thoroughly thinking through his actions, eager to get the conversation with whoever knocked over with.

You freeze in your spot halfway to the bathroom when you hear the hotel door open. You look up, seeing Chan on the other side just as you had expected. You're not too uncomfortable since practically all the boys have seen you in this state of dress before. After years of being in the same group, it's difficult not to walk in on each other. You don't mind too much anyway.

However, this may be one of the instances where a quick glance may be your downfall. Minho's shirt and no pants may be a bit too much for Chan to not question anything. Chan can be very scary when it comes to stuff that could affect the group as a whole, and a relationship could definitely do just that. Let's just say confessing to Chan was not one of your goals for the day.

"Hey Minho, we're having breakfast downstairs before we head out for the concert venue. So once you guys are ready just meet us down there," he tells your boyfriend. You can see a small smirk form on his lips as he says the last sentence. You know he's probably thinking about the plan the boys had formed last night to make you and Minho stay in the same room. If Chan was in on it, then everyone was in on it.

While waiting for Minho's response, Chan raises his head to see around him. You assume he's looking for you to ensure the other man will actually pass the news on. The two of you make eye contact, and it's unsurprising as you watch his eyes widen upon taking in your outfit. Your blush deepens, instantly ducking away into the bathroom, not wanting to be under his scrutiny any longer.

You finish getting ready, trying to block out the conversation from right outside the door. You honestly don't even want to know what Chan said after that whole fiasco.

When you go back into the main room, Chan is gone thankfully. He must of still had a few more of the boys to wake up.

Minho and you make your way downstairs to get breakfast together with the guys before it's time to head out for the busy day. Typically, hotel food isn't all that exciting for you. You much prefer to stop at a cafe or some other restaurant on the way, but today, waffles in the middle of a hotel lobby don't sound half bad.

On the way, you walk side by side, your heart skipping a beat whenever Minho looks your way. You glance down as he subtly touches his pinky to yours. You haven't had many relationships before, falling victim to the lack of romance related to the industry you’re in, so you can't help but wish to have the typical teenage romance you hear about in movies. You've dreamed of it for years and the fact that it's finally happening makes excitement bloom in your chest.

Minho takes the hint, clasping your hand in his, sending a smile your way. Emotion floods your body, making you feel as if you could take on the whole world with just his hand in yours.

When the two of you enter into the breakfast area, you subconsciously drop his hand, suddenly aware of how many people are around, fans and members alike. Felix looks up, noticing your presence and waves you over. There's two seats available, one at the end of the table next to Jeongin and the other next to Felix, which also happens to be directly across from Hyunjin, who all of a sudden looks a little too interested in his food.

Without a second thought you go to take a seat next to Jeongin, but Minho beats you to it. He flops down in the seat smiling cheekily.

'Asshole' you think, falling back into the habit of calling Minho names. He may not hate you anymore, but that doesn't diminish his love for annoying the absolute shit. However, instead of making you roll your eyes in annoyance, it makes your hands twitch by your side, nerves flooding your body head to toe. You know it was his plan, but it really is not helpful at all right now.

Felix smiles up at you, yet if you take all the tension into account it could arguably be a grimace. He pulls the chair out, and you take a seat; your back is a little too straight and fingers are still picking at your cuticles. You don’t want to raise any questions, but sometimes you really can’t help your nervous habits.

There had been plenty of chatter when walking up to the table but it had stopped suddenly upon Felix waving you over. It hasn’t resumed since, and the looks your members are giving each other are not subtle in the slightest. It’s obvious they know something.

Just like you had thought, word must have gotten around fast. It’s just a question of who spilled the beans and what it is they all think they know. Is it about the fight with Hyunjin? The fact that you and Minho had slept in the same bed? Or perhaps it was because you were seen wearing his shirt this morning?

But who knows? Before you even have time to fully ponder the questions or for anyone to break the uncomfortable silence, there’s a loud noise gathering everyone’s attention.

Hyunjin had sent one final look of panic to Felix before abruptly pushing his chair back and storming out. Everyone looked up in shock and suddenly it’s very clear that they were not aware of the fight. How are you gonna be able to explain this one? You don't even understand what happened. I mean sure, Hyunjin and you had fought and you didn't make up yet so it was uncomfortable, but you don't know why he would feel the need to make a scene like that. You guys had interacted just fine this morning. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with the idea of having to pretend everything was fine. You aren't exactly hiding the fact that you aren't happy with him right now. Due to basically being two peas in a pod, Hyunjin can usually read you like a book.

You glance over at Felix in hopes that he knows what that was all about. It's not much help when all he sends back is a shrug and an apologetic smile.

Unsurprisingly, there were few words spoken after this; the majority of the silence only being filled with concerned looks.

So breakfast was a bit awkward to say the least...

Unfortunately, that is extremely worrisome considering the schedule for the rest of the day. You guys don't have time for awkwardness and unsettled fights. Yet, you also don't have time to resolve anything. A never ending cycle of tension, how exciting. It's one of the not so fun parts of being an idol; the fakeness of everything. You just have to hope your groups acting is going to be on point enough today to not draw any attention. Fans were nitpicky and it was always best to avoid as many rumors as possible. With how close you and Hyunjin are, there's bound to be questions if you don't act all buddy buddy like you usually do.

The group takes two separate cars to the venue, and you can't help but notice the members are a little different than normal. More specifically, Minho has taken the seat next to you which is typically occupied by Hyunjin. In fact, Hyunjin isn't even in the car anymore.

This isn't the first time the cars were specifically divided out. Years ago, they had to switch which car Minho was in to keep the chaos under control. Previously, Minho had been in the same car as you, but once tensions started running high between the two of you, he had immediately been switched in hopes to keep the peace. It seems that was exactly the goal of today. God, you need to stop making so many issues within the group.

It seems that as the day progresses things are just getting more stressful. Hyunjin is avoiding you, and you can't help but feel as if you're messing up the group's dynamics. Suddenly, you're reminded of the awkward encounter with Chan this morning. If he figures out everything that has happened, is he going to be frustrated with you? Maybe you just never really fit in the group to begin with.

With every mile closer to the venue, you feel like you're approaching your doom. This is not the right mental state to go on stage, but that wasn't exactly an option, now was it?

So for now, you simply grip Minho's hand tighter, hoping to quell the growing anxiety inside you. You just have to make it through the concert and then you can resolve all the issues happening.

But it's never that easy is it?

Taglist: @armystay89 @thisisnotjacinta @silentreadersthings @seungminsapuppy @linos-kitten @hafrenstay @redstayrosie

[strangerstilinski]

eddie the hero

summary; the holidays bring about daddy issues of the decidedly un-sexy variety, but eddie is a total sweetheart and a goofball to boot. (this is very self indulgent.) 2.6k warnings; some angst but a very very fluffy end, trauma from overly-critical parents, eddie being sweet, some blood, a brief anxiety attack maybe?, i think reader is written gn (eddie refers to reader as a fair maiden but like jokingly? so do with that what you will) a/n; turns out, a combination of being home for the holidays and listening to mean by miss swift on the drive out brought up, uh... this. shout out to my dad for being himself over this holiday season, and shoutout ruby for very delicately insisting (repeatedly) that i get my shit together and simply.. make something of this trauma dump. so here it is; a wee bit of angst with lots of fluff to round it all out.

The kitchen is in chaos.

You've got about a hundred different things going at once in an effort to get everything ready for the holiday dinner that you and Eddie agreed to host. The smell of cinnamon from your morning baking endeavors still lingers in the air, though it's slowly being overtaken by rosemary and and the earthy scent of fresh vegetables. The hair at the nape of your neck is beginning to feel a bit stifling with heat from the oven already warming house, and you make a mental note to crack a window once your friends and family begin trickling in.

It's a little overwhelming, but you're doing your best to get what you've deemed the more detailed-oriented aspects of preparation done while Eddie is busy in the shower.

You intend to be finished by the time he's done getting ready. A mental plan has been laid out. You'll have the knife in your hand washed and dried and put away before he even emerges from the bathroom— no problem.

There was a problem though: you hadn't been quick enough.

You're in a zone of sorts. So much so, that you don't notice the footfalls of your boyfriend making his way down the hallway toward the kitchen. When he speaks from the doorway, his voice takes you completely by surprise.

"What are you doing?" Eddie's voice is soft as ever, though you're unable to process the gentle innocence in the tone of his question.

The realization that you've been caught has the heat in the kitchen very suddenly feeling entirely too warm. Your collar is entirely too tight around your neck while your mind whirls with sudden anxiety.

It's as if Eddie is no longer there. Instead, your ears are filled with the echo of your father's voice, the condescension in his tone ringing sharply in your skull.

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you doing it like that?"

"It's not that hard, bud. Just do it like this and it'll be better. How many times do I have to tell you-"

His voice would toe the line between irritated and amused, narrowed eyes making you feel a fool. It would prompt a frustrated prickle behind your own eyes and a tightness in your jaw when he'd show you the way you should've been doing it in the first place.

You heart races now with that unhealed scab of your father's never ending dissatisfaction. His impossible standards. His mean little digs and criticisms that masqueraded as him merely wanting you to be better.

Because you could always be better.

Growing up it was sports, your effort in school, it was the way you putted in mini golf, it was 'why on earth would you not dry the glasses when you washed dishes? That's just stupid because now they'll air dry with spots and-' From there began the slow evolution into the way that you drove your car, the way you spent money, how often you called and what time of day you called when you did..

Nothing you did was enough. In his eyes, there here was always something wrong, something that could be improved.

It's entirely possible that the stress of the holiday is getting to you already, if the way you've very quickly begun to spiral is any indication. And though there's nothing more than curiosity in your boyfriend's question, the familiarity of it makes you flinch nonetheless.

It happens in a flash. The paring knife in your grip slips and the blade slices the edge of your thumb instead of the potato you'd been getting prepped for boiling. A sharp sting that you barely notice. The sight of the blood that pools quick from the shallow cut has your ears ringing, Eddie's soft curses sounding muffled when they curl at your ears. It's a bit like you're underwater, sounds eerily distorted and brain fuzzy with the heavy beat of your heart.

"Sorry—"

It comes out as nothing more than a murmur under your breath. With a slight delay, you have the foresight to move your hand from above the bowl of already sliced and cleaned potatoes. Wrist now clutched to your chest, you zero in on the drops of blood that have already stained a few of them, red bleeding into the starchy whiteness.

"S-sorry, I just-"

Your voice is shaking as Eddie grabs a kitchen towel, his hands gently cradling your own and dabbing the towel at the cut so he can examine the severity of your injury. His brows are furrowed beneath the wispy curtain of his wet bangs, brown eyes wide with worry. His fingers are free of their normal assortment of rings, likely because he'd come out with the intent of helping you cook. Your eyes flick between his bare fingers and his shower-damp hair, between the roundness of his chin and the frown pulling at his lips — guilt pools heavily in your gut at the sight.

"I shouldn't 've been using a knife anyway, but I couldn't find the peeler s-so I just used the knife. I-I know it wastes more of the potato, I know that's not-" Your breath comes out trembling, your whole body wracking with it as your eyes prickle and burn with embarrassment. Your words come quicker, panicked, "I just wanted to get them done so I could get them in the water and start on the beans, but now I-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Eddie soothes, wide palm coming up to your flushed face where his thumb drags slow over the apple of your cheek while his other hand works to secure the dish towel in your fist to stop the bleeding, "Breathe, sweetheart. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," You whisper, voice thick with tears, "Was s' stupid, I'm sorry-"

"Baby.. Baby, hey-" His voice is soft. He squares his shoulders and follows your movement as he tries to meet your eye, brown finally connecting with shining pools that threaten to spill over. The pad of his thumb catches the first drop the moment that it breaks free, smoothing the moisture along your skin as he repeats the slow back and forth motion over your cheek. "The cut's not bad, it's not very deep.. What's going on, sweet thing? What's got you so worked up?"

Your next breath catches and it has your whole body quaking when it eventually whooshes out of your chest, a pitiful little sniffle escaping you in response to the sudden influx of tears.

"I- I was doing it wrong. I know- And then I- I got blood all over the potatoes-"

"We can wash the potatoes." Eddie says all too easily, though his voice still has that anxious edge to it that does nothing to make you feel better.

"We can.. We can wash the potatoes.." You repeat cautiously, as if the thought hadn't yet occurred to you.

"Yeah, baby. We can wash the potatoes." He echoes gently.

A shaky breath falls past your lips as you nod, "Sorry." You say again.

"I'm sorry," He insists with a shake of his head, "I came in here like a bat outta hell while you were holding a knife, and I scared you into hurting yourself. I was just- Potatoes we're supposed to be one'a my jobs. And, uh-" A grimacing excuse of a smile pulls at his lips, his eyes drifting to the discarded knife that lay at the bottom of the sink, "Well.. You couldn't find the peeler because it's in the dishwasher-"

You have to fight back a sigh at his admission, "Eddie-" You admonish weakly.

"I know, I know. It's not dishwasher safe. I know that, I do," Eddie says in a rush, "You've told me a million times, I just forget in the moment. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

His earnest apology has you reeling a bit. The fact that Eddie's instinct is not just to apologize, but also to explain away his mistake with guilt dripping heavy from his words-

You suddenly feel a bit like a monster. A cruel, perfection-driven bully of your father's creation. It has a fresh wave of tears pooling in your eyes and threatening to well over.

"God," The word comes out a choked sounding thing, buried beneath the tightness in your throat, "I'm sorry, Eddie. It's not a big deal, really, 's just a peeler. If the dishwasher ruins it we'll just buy another one for, like, a dollar."

"Yeah?" Eddie treads, a cautious smile pulling at the corner of his mouth while his thumb continues to drag soft over the wetness spread across your cheekbone.

"Yeah," You sniffle around the word, panic and realization settling in and promoting your chest to heave with quick breaths, "Jesus. Y-You shouldn't be worried about my reaction to something so.. So stupid. Fuck. I- I'm just like him-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Baby, hey.. Just like who?" Eddie interrupts with a renewed sense of urgency, "What're you talkin' about?"

"My dad-" You sob, shoulders trembling with it.

"Oh, baby, hey. Hey-"

In a flash, Eddie is guiding your head into the crook of his neck, wetness transferring onto his skin as a dam breaks and your body trembles with a series of heavy sobs. You slot into the space below his jaw just as perfectly as you always do, the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces.

He smells like shaving cream and the conditioner you'd bought him especially for curly hair. The combination of the rich masculine scent on his skin with the sweet citrusy perfume clinging to his damp hair makes your head spin as you try valiantly to follow his soft demands for you to calm down.

His voice rumbles soft over your ear as he shushes you, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple all the while. The towel wrapped around your fist tightens when Eddie's bigger hand encases your own, a slow sway overtaking your body as he urges your weight to shift from foot to foot in a soothing motion. He rocks you back and forth, your socked feet shuffling against the kitchen tile, your boyfriend's chest pressed tight to your own.

A wide palm smooths up and down your spine, a tune that sounds distantly familiar rumbling over your ear when Eddie begin to hum softly into your hair.

A minute passes, shuddering breaths come and less, the heaving of your chest and the tears in your eyes settling until each sniffle feels more embarrassing than anything else. A weak laugh bubbles up from your throat as you hone in on your boyfriend's socked feet nudging at yours with every shift side to side, your fist tightening around the blood-stained towel for a moment before you're hooking your own fingers around the back of his hand, palms clasped together.

"'re we slow dancing right now?" You ask a bit breathlessly, finally lifting your head from the curve of his neck to peer up at his with swollen, reddened eyes.

"Mhm," Eddie hums and drops his forehead against your own. That hand on your spine hikes you up against him, air forced from your lungs and another bubbling laugh pushed up your throat.

"You trying to woo me, Munson?" Your tease comes out a bit raspy from all of the crying, but you watch a grin pull at his lips regardless.

"Why?" Big brown eyes flick between your own, a little cross-eyed with how close your faces sit, "S'it working?"

You bring your free hand up to curl around the back of his neck, fingers slipping beneath his wet curls to ensure his forehead doesn't leave yours.

"It might be.." The words come out in a murmur.

You're feeling a bit mesmerized by his proximity, even after all this time. A sudden spin from your boyfriend has you stumbling over your feet, the only thing keeping you from losing your balance completely being the steadying hand that quickly finds a place on your hip and slides back to the base of your spine.

"It might be?" Eddie repeats with a scoff, "Oh, it might be, you say." A small huff of laughter escapes you and puffs out against his chin as he continues on, "Well I guess I'll just have to up the ante then, won't I? What shall I do, my fair maiden? What is it you desire? I could finish this lovely holiday dinner by myself, provide thee with sustenance-"

It's you who scoffs this time, "Right, hilarious. Our friends and Wayne will be here in less than two hours-"

"Or perhaps I'll wait until nightfall, pluck a star straight from the sky for you. Because what other courting gift could be better suited for a maiden who shines so bright-"

"Eddie," You can't help but laugh at his dramatics. The drying tear streaks on your cheeks are long forgotten now, the ridiculous man in front of you is nothing if not an expert in getting your whole attention focused on him.

"No. No, you're right. That couldn't possibly be enough to prove my endless love and devotion," He makes a show of shaking his head as he releases you from his hold and takes a step back. A sidestep has him bumping into the sink basin, a wide grin already pulling at his lips. "But this!" He announces as he snatches the bloody paring knife from the sink with a flourish, "This cursed object! Laced with evil, I'm sure! This blade that has brought harm upon you!"

You watch Eddie dispose of the knife with a smile pulling at your lips, and you only spare a small wince at the fleeting worry that it might tear through the plastic bag lining the inside of the garbage can. Eddie drops to his knees in a flash, dark denim coming into contact with the kitchen tile at your feet. His hands grip at the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you with wide eyes, the brown pools swimming with mischief and humor and love.

"-It is dealt with, my dear. It will never hurt you again. This I swear-"

The blood-stained towel falls to the floor as you take his head in your hands, carefully avoiding the drying cut on your thumb. You're swallowing down laughter as you guide him to his feet again. Your heart feels full enough to burst, and Eddie's expression of faux-seriousness is almost enough to push a giggle from your lips.

"Oh, my hero," You whisper with all of the dramatisation you can manage, "My big, handsome savior. Whatever would I have done without you here to protect me? How can I ever thank you?"

Eddie brings his palms up to your cheeks in a flash, and you know it must be a ridiculous sight. The current disaster zone that is the kitchen; ingredients lining every available inch of countertop space, a pot of salted water very nearly boiling on the stovetop, and the two of you standing at the center of it all — cradling one another's faces with all the care in the world.

Brown eyes flick slow over your face, the freckles on the bridge of Eddie's nose catching your attention all the while.

"One million kisses." He proposes.

A laugh does escape you now, though it's a giddy one, slightly flustered by just how sweet the man before you is. Your cheeks feel warm with it as your uninjured thumb drags soft over his cheek.

"One million?"

"One hundred million!" He counters immediately.

"One hundred million?" You repeat in disbelief, "Now, what's a guy like you going to do with one hundred million kisses should I give them to you?"

"Maybe you're right. Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Eddie nods valiantly, "We could start with just one, and work our way up."

"That sounds more than reasonable," Your cheeks are beginning to ache with your smile.

You push up onto your toes to brush your lips over his, scarcely touching. But when Eddie pushes forward, you rock back in an easy move, your mouth remaining just out of his reach.

"I am going to need that knife to finish dinner though," You whisper, the hushed words rushing over his lips in one breath, "The others are too dull-"

"Consider it retrieved and washed," Eddie says easily, "As soon as I get my kiss-"

It ends up being more smile than kiss, in the end, but there will be millions more to make up for it.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Thinking about:

Tokoyami being skittish and avoidant after the first few weeks of your relationship. Everything was amazing with him; he showers you in sweet compliments that leave you breathless, calls you sweet nicknames and always makes time for you. Now imagine your surprise when he starts totally avoiding you.

==================================

The bell rings for first period, and your feathery boyfriend is yet to be seen. Anxiety started to gnaw at your chest; he hadn’t responded to your get well soon messages, only leaving you on read. You couldn’t even visit him properly since he gruffly told you to leave him alone when you tapped on his door.

It was not like Tokoyami at all, as communication was incredibly important to him in a relationship. Your anxiety bubbled over as you gnawed on your lip. Was this his way of breaking up with you? He had blown you off with plans for the last weekend too, making this a repeated issue. You knew you would get upset thinking about this, so you continued to scrawl down the notes from Aizawa’s lesson.

You mentally resolved to visit Tokoyami after the school day is finished and see just what the problem is.

==================================

You gently tapped on Tokoyami’s door yet again, praying to whatever entity that he would let you in.

“I don’t wish to see anyone at the minute, please leave me alone,” you heard him grunt back lowly. He sounded pained and hurt, not to mention tired. You bit your lip in anxiety.

“Fumi? It’s me, my love. Are you alright? Please let me in, I’m so worried about you,” you pleaded him through the door. You heard a sigh.

“I’m sorry but not right now. I’m not well, and I do not wish to pass the illness on,” he continued, sounding more irritated by the second.

“I don’t care if you get me sick Fumi, I can take care of you and help you get better,” you compromised, hoping he takes the deal.

“Starlight, not now. This.. it’s a different kind of illness,-” Tokoyami was cut off by a series of coughs resonating deeply in his room.

“That’s it Fumikage, I’m coming in!” You announced, undeterred by his pleads and demands for you to stop. You gasp upon entering his room; black feathers were strewn across his bedroom in random directions and places. His lamps were lit, leaving the gothic bedroom in a ghostly light as you tried to find your boyfriend.

He was trembling in the middle of his bed, surrounded by a growing pile of feathers and trying to hide himself with his pillow.

“Fumi? Are you okay honey?” Your voice filtered through his room as you closed the door behind you.

“Why are you covering your face, love? Is something the matter?” Your worried voice drove a sigh out of Fumikage as he lowered his shield. You let out a slight gasp; he was moulting. His feathers looked sparse in some areas, some turned grey and some on their way to drop out his face. Even though his face was not one of a humans, you could almost see the bags under his eyes.

“Oh my god Fumi, what’s happened?!” You try not to let your voice get too alarmed; you didn’t want your boyfriend to think you were disgusted of him.

“I knew this would happen. It was foolish of me to think I could prevent it. It is a byproduct of my quirk: every few months I moult my feathers to make way for thicker and healthier ones, but as such it takes a toll on my body. I get hot flashes, and my feathers just drop out. I am usually plagued by insomnia, yet it worsens during this period of time. You must think it’s disgusting,” his voice quietens in embarrassment.

You let out a small “oh” upon his explanation, feeling stupid for your prior thoughts. You slowly made your way to his bed and sat next to him, rubbing slow circles to his shoulder.

“That’s not the case at all, my love! I had no idea that your quirk would cause this but it makes sense. I wish you would have told me about this. I’m here for you, I can help you face problems like these. It’s not a disgusting thing, it’s perfectly natural,” you comforted him, slowly grabbing his hand and gently rubbing in between the knuckle like you know he likes.

Tokoyami seemed shocked at your response. Any other person apart from Shoji usually made comments along the lines of “ew, I couldn’t cope with it,” or something. The politest would just give him a sympathetic smile that was tinged with disgust.

“A-are you quite sure starlight? This can be a troublesome task-” you interrupt him.

“Of course Fumi. Now, come here. I brought some supplies in case you were sick,” you rearrange yourself so that you were at the headrest of the bed and Fumikage curled up against you. You produced a bottle of his favourite flavoured water and held it to him as he shakily managed a few gulps. He let out a shaky and tired breath as he nestled himself against your chest.

Your hands found his silky feathers and Fumikage’s eyes burst open. It was foreign for him to feel someone so casually pet him. You worked in continuous strokes, gently setting aside any loose or broken feathers before petting him again.

Fumikage let out a contented chirp each time you found a particularly annoyed or irritated area. His natural bird-like instincts were screaming at him; his mate was grooming him!! Actually helping him maintain his appearance!! Making him feel better about his icky transformation!! It was a dream come true.

He nuzzled his beak closer to your neck and allowed his breaths to get deeper and slower, before totally falling limp against you.

And you know what? That was the best night’s sleep he had in 4 days.

[cowyolks]

Can you please write relationship headcanons with könig 🙏🏿🙏🏿 I'm so desperate

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS FOR KÖNIG (NSFW at the end)

A/n: sorry anon I got a bit carried away because he’s my lover.

Warning: Minors DNI after the NSFW border.

When I tell you this man is anxious, he’s ANXIOUS. König needs constant reassurance that he’s doing the right thing. He makes sure you are the top priority, going out of his way to make you happy and feel loved.

König is secretly an artist, he enjoys drawing and painting. If he could get away with it, he’d paint you for hours, his eyes soft while he studies your features.

Expect comfort when it comes to being with König, he’s 6’10, and the best damn snuggle partner ever. You had to buy an extra large blanket so he could keep his feet warm at night.

He’s only comfortable with you seeing him out of his hood. Because he was so bullied in his childhood he found it hard to believe that he was beautiful in your eyes. It means everything to him when you kiss his face, his cheeks, lips, forehead, anything. This man yearns to feel wanted.

König gets quite anxious in crowds, people are always tending to look at how absolutely giant he is, but it makes him feel better when you’ll hold his hand and bump against his shoulder.

König loves to give his S/O little presents, whenever it be small souvenirs from a time on tour to little chocolates and flowers he’d think you’d like.

When he breaks out of his bubble, he’s extremely intelligent and loves to spit out random facts. He spent most of his childhood readying fantasy books about knights and dragons, you jokingly call him your knight in shining armor.

König is a blusher, and gets super flustered when you show him PDA or sexual attraction.

He keeps a Polaroid of you in his breast pocket while he’s on missions, says it’s his best good luck charm. After he comes home he always greets you in a crushing hug, spinning you around in the air as your feet leave the ground.

König is super good with children, you don’t know why, but he’s very attuned to them. Maybe it’s because they have yet to see the horrors and bullying of the world. He usually always leaves them laughing, never wanting a child to go through what he did.

König tries to teach you little sayings in German/Austrian, sitting down with you and pronouncing the words slowly. He gives you a peck on the lips whenever you say it right.

NSFW (Leant more towards F!Readers)

König is a mountain, he’s big, really fucking big. He’s always very gentle with you, even when you tell him not to be. He cares too much to even think of hurting you.

What he refuses to do with his dick, he’ll do with his mouth. Like stated earlier, König is a people pleaser, and nothing makes him harder than hearing you moan as he’s eating you out.

The big guy is stupid strong, he can hold you up for hours, so it’s no surprise he likes to effortlessly pick you up with your legs wrapped around his hips and go to town.

He isn’t a talker, like at all. It’s embarrassing to him. However, he can’t help moaning and grunting. (Especially when you give him head)

He started off very timid when it came to sex, now he knows what pleases. He catches on quick and is a good listener. He was fast to learn where your clit was just based on your expressions and feedback.

König is a sweetheart, but we know he deals with a lot of trauma and anxiety. You couldn’t believe how many times he said sorry after having sex, even if it was for nothing. It took a long time to condition him to realize he had NO reason to apologize and it was a thing both of you wanted.

You’re usually the one that takes care of him afterwards. Rubbing his back after a hot shower. You wear his shirts afterwards and would kiss him until he was flushing red.

[eris-snow]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐭

✨Quirk accident

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, fluff, bakugou's birthday series 2023

Bakugou and you get hit with an attachment quirk.

“So you’re telling me…” Bakugou growls, hand clenching yours. “We’re stuck like this.”

You don’t like Quirk accidents. Sure, you haven’t been in one, but you’ve heard plenty of stories of the sheer mayhem it could cause if the Quirk accidents weren’t handled properly.

Your Thursday that day had been used as a hands-on internship at your respective agencies because of a villain from the Hero Gala attack running around chaotically while setting things on fire.

There are two things that happened today:

Number 1: Bakugou and you caught the villain.

Number 2: The villain got you with his Quirk.

After a long, drawn-out interrogation that only ended around noon, Bakugou and you learnt the following.

The asshole’s Quirk was called “Attachment”, and meant that Bakugou and you had to spend your next 24 hours in each other’s presence. Sharing skin contact, as the villain explained weakly, was also needed in order to prevent both of you from suffering from panic attacks.

Your face heats up in utter embarrassment.

How cliche.

Aizawa takes one look at the both of you and declares the both of you as excused from your respective internships, before ordering you to shift all your necessary items into the living room. That was going to be the makeshift arrangement for this one night until the Quirk wears off.

Your homeroom teacher dismisses you with a tired yawn, and that’s when you’re shipped off back to the dorms with no one but yourselves to keep you occupied.

“This is stupid,” Bakugou snarls. “No way I’m sitting around here all day. You up for some hand-to-hand combat?”

Your heart jumps at the idea of normalcy, making you nod your head vigorously. “Let’s.”

The both of you make do with this. You change inside the bathroom while Bakugou stands with his back facing the door, and the physical combat checks out the villain’s lame Quirk criterias.

“Your kick is too low!” Bakugou yells at you while blocking your hit with his arm. “I know you can do better than that, Sunshine! Don’t start going fucking easy on me now!”

“It’s on,” You deadpan, landing a counterattack on his shoulder. “Don’t start getting all cocky, got it Bakugou?”

“Like hell, I will!”

That activity occupies you for a good few hours before you get back to the dorms.

After you’ve showered and gotten fully clothed, Bakugou and you try to complete homework. It’s obnoxiously subconscious, because that’s exactly when the Quirk starts to act up again.

You and Bakugou have a mutual, silent agreement to minimise as much physical contact as possible, and this Quirk had decided to derail your plan just for the fun of it.

Bakugou doesn’t like the idea of touching you. With his Quirk and the numerous number of people talking shit about how dangerous his Quirk is, he’s reframed from touching others ever since the dawn of middle school. He doesn’t want to hurt you, whether intentionally or not.

But even with all of this baggage, the pull towards you is too strong for him to ignore. He thought that just being there with each other would be enough to satisfy the Quirk, but apparently, he thought wrong. You look fidgety too, with the way you struggle on a math equation you can typically solve in your sleep.

Bakugou almost gives out when you stand up to walk towards the kitchen for a quick glass of water. It’s fucking stupid, that all it takes is 5 seconds without you and his hand is quivering aggressively with his breaths getting more laboured with the next. “Idiot,” He grits out, trying to ignore the anxiety that pools in his chest.

It only gets worse.

Unable to bear it any longer, Bakugou stumbles to his feet, staggering to where you headed without him.

He glares at the sight he sees when he rounds the corner. You’re stabilising yourself against a table, two quivering hands supporting your entire body was you take long, deliberate breaths.

“Dumbass,” He rasps, causing your head to shoot up to face him. The pull towards you is better now that you’re in closer proximity, but it’s not enough.

Those words echo off the walls of his brain.

Not enough.

He’s walking over to you, but it doesn’t do much to calm the storm of fear-stricken thoughts in him.

Not enough.

He takes one look at your face and grimaces. You’re having a hard time as well.

NOT ENOUGH.

Bakugou caves. “Give me your fucking hand,” He grits out, shoving his hand towards you. You don’t even think twice.

Your fingers intertwine as both of you take sharp inhales of relief, the haunting fear dissipating immediately the moment you make contact. “Never do that again,” Bakugou says, yanking a glass off the counter with you in tow, filling the cup up with water with one hand. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” You reply, taking the glass from him, looking embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Bakugou clicks his tongue. You’re such a Dumbass sometimes. Red eyes flickering to your joint hands, and Bakugou swallows back his initial annoyance.

“Let’s just go back.” Bakugou settles on, dragging you to the living room where your study materials. He tries to ignore the feeling of your hand in his, tries to think of anything to keep his brain from spiralling into the direction he refuses to acknowledge.

Your hand is a perfect fit in his, like it was made to be there.

You hold hands like that the entire time you’re doing homework.

It's quiet and incredibly awkward at first, but soon you and Bakugou learn to ignore it, and soon conversations start up again with a lot more life than before.

You remember that day vividly. The hand holding, the constant contact, the innocence behind it because Bakugou never overstepped boundaries with you. He needed the contact just as much as you did, and instead of getting all handsy, he opted for the most innocent form of touch.

You remember falling asleep on the couch with his hand in yours long before your classmates arrive home. It was the evening, and you both are drained from every goddamn eventful thing that happened so far over the month of April. Cherry blossoms symbolise change, and oh, boy, did it symbolise how far gone you were when it came to your crush on the blond Boom Boom Man.

His birthday was coming up, and you still hadn’t planned out your gift for him. You glare at your phone as you and Bakugou sit there in a somewhat comfortable position, with his arm resting on the couch and your hand lying on his. You can feel your eyelids start to close, and with how exhausted you were, you manage to drift off with success.

Bakugou glances over at you and sighs, tugging your phone away from your face and placing his away too. Just watching you snore peacefully is enough to get him yawning too. He lays down on his arm, head resting on the couch near your face. Fuck if he cares if his neck hurts tomorrow morning.

All that he could focus on now was how comfortingly warm your hand was, and how he wished that he didn’t need a Quirk accident to grasp it for the first time. He’d need to man up someday to spit out his feelings to you.

for the first time. He’d need to man up someday to spit out his feelings to you.

That day just…wasn’t today.

--

When you wake up the next day, it’s to half the fucking class gaping at you in unhinged surprise.

Bakugou and you have a lot of explaining to do.

[thelov3lybookworm]

You Think I Wanted This? (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: The wedding day has arrived.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: Ehehe im so excited for yall to read this aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

If there was one word that could describe the situation around the palace, it would be chaos. But ten times worse.

The time was flying by, and it was getting incredibly hard to keep herself from screaming in frustration. The anxiety building up in her, the worries... it was hard to focus on anything.

The wedding would take place today in the great hall in just a few hours, and Y/n could not stop the tremor in her hands.

The only thing that comforted Y/n was the fact that Cam was now present with her, in the Palace, having returned from Basgiath during the leave granted before his second year.

Due to being the son of the king, he had been granted some leniency so he could attend Y/n's wedding.

That, and the books Y/n was forced to read, being a healer.

All alone in her room now, all she could do was read through the boring texts again, because that was the only way she could stop thinking about the inevitable ruining of her life.

A knock startled Y/n, and she glanced at the small clock she kept on her desk, frowning when she realised there was still, at the very least, an hour until the maids came to get her ready.

Standing, she called out. "Yes?"

"May I come in?" The voice was unmistakably female, with the confidence of someone far older an experienced than the owner of the voice should have been.

Y/n walked over, opening the door a crack to find Violet Sorrengail waiting, her hair in a messy braid hanging over one shoulder.

Y/n blinked, then opened the door wider, letting her in.

"Sorrengail, what brings you here?"

Violet took a deep breath, letting the door fall shut behind her before speaking.

"Did you ask to be married to Xaden?"

Y/n blinked, taken aback. "Xaden? Why would I want to be married to him?"

Violet sighed, frustration evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders. Now that Y/n looked closely, she looked like she had not showered or had a meal in years.

"I- you were staring at him that day like- like you wanted him, and then right after the king announced your marriage and..." Violet took a deep breath, looking like she would have a panic attack any moment. And despite the fact that this girl was involved with Y/n's soon to be husband, that they had something going on, maybe even feelings involved, all Y/n felt was pity for her.

Y/n sympathised with the girl, but there was nothing Y/n could do to comfort her than give false words of hope.

"Look, Sorrengail, there is nothing I can do. I am sorry, I truly am, but I can't put a stop to this wedding, if that is what you are here for."

"But you didn't even try!"

Y/n crossed her arms, rubbing between her brows, realising Violet had been trying to hold in her emotions all along and she was not here for a friendly chat over tea.

"I know the consequences I would have had to bear for objecting, and the wedding would still have happened because no one goes against the king's words."

"You are his daughter! He would have-"

"And you are a grown woman, who, I hope, understands what consequences are. So I am not going to sit here and explain to you what would have happened if I'd done what I wanted to two hours before the betrothal takes place." Y/n glanced at the clock to make sure she had the right timing before turning towards the door, reaching out to clutch the handle.

"You didn't even try." All anger had dissipated from the rider's voice, and the tears in her eyes made her look like she was ready to fall to her knees and beg for Xaden to be freed.

Y/n clenched her eyes shut, knowing if she watched Violet cry, she would do end up doing something very stupid, and that something was definitely going to get her killed.

"I am sorry Violet, but there is nothing I can do other than to tell you to return, go to someplace that brings you peace, and stay away from the palace for atleast two days."

The fire of rage again lit up in Violet's eyes, and she stomped forward just as Y/n opened the door for her to leave.

"Fuck you." Violet cursed, and Y/n did not bat an eye at the words as she clicked the door shut behind her.

With a sigh, Y/n returned to her desk.

Not long after, someone again knocked on the doors, though this time it was the servants arriving to get Y/n dressed up all pretty for the ceremony.

Y/n let go of her textbook and let the attendants fuss over her, the mannerisms of a princess that had been drilled into her since she was born keeping her from complaining everytime they pulled her hair too harshly.

Kept her quiet even when the corset was too tight.

Kept her quiet even when all she wanted to do was cry and ask what the purpose of all this was.

•○🌑○•

Violet's pov.

The crowd was silent, watching the bride walk down the aisle who only had eyes for the groom. Some of the held appreciation for what the girl had managed to achieve, some held scorn in their hearts for her getting married to the son of a coward and betraying the kingdom.

Her eyes remained unwavering, her long hair running down her straight back, hands clutching at the small bouquet of flowers.

She was beautiful, Violet had to admit.

The groom too stared at the bride, his hands folded neatly behind his back, and though his expression remained neutral, his eyes spoke volumes about his happiness regarding this marriage.

At least the two of them knew nothing could come out of this marriage, and no one would be disappointed after the outcome turned out to be hatred.

The moment the bride took her position at the podium, the priest started speaking.

After long minutes of droning, the bald priest finally asked the question that the groom, bride and Violet all dreaded.

"Do you, Xaden Riorson, take Y/n Tauri, to be your wife?"

Violet's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the tense Lieutenant, who, if possible, tensed even more as he answered.

"I do."

"Do you, Xaden Riorson, swear to be loyal throughout this marriage to your wife?"

At that, Xaden jerked, his head turning a little towards where Violet was standing, but then he stopped himself and stared again at his to be wife.

"I do."

The princess blinked in confusion, and her eyes slowly swept the crowd as she searched for something.

Violet moved, trying to conceal herself behind the pillar she was standing next to.

Of course, the two girls met eyes before Violet could be successful.

Violet watched as exasperation and pity filled Y/n's eyes, and Violet lifted her chin in confidence she didn't feel.

"Do you, Y/n Tauri, take Xaden Riorson, to be your husband?"

Violet watched as the princess swallowed and spoke, no other sign of hesitation or anxiousness in sight. "I do."

"Do you, Y/n Tauri, swear to be loyal throughout this marriage to your husband?"

"I do."

The lack of hesitation almost made Violet feel bad, because the certainty that dripped from the princess's voice told Violet that even if Xaden continued to pursue Violet behind close doors, the princess would stay loyal to him.

Almost.

"I now pronounce you two married. You may kiss the bride."

Violet held Y/n's stare until Xaden was right in her face, and then she closed her eyes, and let him kiss her.

Violet turned away, walking out of the huge doors and making her way to the flight field near the palace.

She knew she should have heeded the princess's advice, but she couldn't stop herself from seeing him get married by her own eyes.

Even if the bride was not who Violet wished.

•○🌑○•

@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch

Xaden Taglist: @sidrapotter @anniiittttaa @pirana10 @harrystylesfan2686

[mermaidxatxheart]

Ribbed II

This is the sequel to Ribbed. I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs show me love.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 4450

Warnings: Benny is taking over as the pussy eating king. Sorry Pedro, usual smut, idk. does it even matter?

Previous Part

Master List

Come over.

You stare at the text message for a solid minute before dropping your phone onto your desk. Benny needed to stop. What happened between the two of you last week could never happen again. He’s your brother’s best friend, and if Mick ever found out, he would probably explode. 

Please?

You groan and flip your phone screen down to avoid temptation. You flex your fingers over your keyboard and try to focus on your work. But the memory of Benny crowds your memory, fighting for dominance at the forefront of your brain. 

“That’s my girl.” Whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder. “So fucking good.” A breathy moan, your name a desperate plea that traces down your spine. 

“God damn it.” You mutter, grabbing your phone. 

I have air conditioning.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You type out a quick reply, fingers flying over the keys on your screen. 

We can’t. It has to be just the one time. We were drunk. It doesn’t count. 

Setting your phone down, you shake your hands as you try to rid yourself of the anxiety bubbling up inside you. 

I don’t want it to be just the one time. It definitely counts if I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. 

You press your thighs together, fighting against the memory of the way he felt there. The tender feel of his lips against yours. It didn’t feel like a random hookup at the time, but you’re definitely a coward. You’ve been avoiding both Benny and your brother ever since that night. 

Come over.

Staring at his name, with his picture, your weak will power crumbles and your fingers are typing before you can really protest or talk yourself out of it. 

…..when?

Tonight?

You sigh, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. 

Fine. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work!

He doesn’t text you back, but that’s just as bad. Jesus, fix it. 

***

You pull up in front of Benny’s house, looking at the windows with no small amount of trepidation. You can’t loiter outside all night and if you don’t show, he’ll just pester you until you do. You shut off the engine and climb out, heading for the front door. 

Your fist hovers over the wood for a long time as you get your courage up. If he doesn’t have you naked within ten minutes, it’ll be a miracle. 

You groan, give your whole body a forceful shake and rap quickly on the door before you can talk yourself out of it. You stare at the welcome mat beneath your heels, wishing you had stopped at home to change out of your work dress and into comfortable leggings and flip flops. The wait stretches out and you tell yourself you��ll give him thirty more seconds before you leave and tell him you knocked but he didn’t answer. His fault. 

Then the door opens and a gust of what can only be described as Benny hits you and your knees go weak. Irish spring soap, hint of sweat, old spice deodorant, and something specific to him that makes it all work. 

“Hey, I’m just making-wow.” He says softly and you look up, frowning. You wish you hadn’t. He’s wearing gym shorts that hang loosely on him, a Motley Crüe tee shirt, his stupid backward hat, and a dish towel slung over his broad shoulder. Droplets are clinging to his hair, like he’s just gotten out of the shower. Looking so domestic shouldn’t be such a turn on. You have to force yourself not to notice all the little things about him that make you want to drop your panties right here in the doorway. 

“What?”

“You look amazing.” He says, stepping back to let you in. 

“Oh.” You enter carefully, determined not to slip on the polished hardwood floor. Benny never struck you as the type to have his shit together. He seems like the type that bounces around from apartment to apartment when his lease is up, the bare minimum of furniture: a couch, a tv, a bed. But his house is… nice. The hardwood floors are well taken care of, polished, clean, dust free. There are pictures and decorations hanging on the wall, some of it art, some of it personal. There’s a rug under a coffee table and the most comfortable looking couch you’ve ever seen, plush and tall. It looks like it will cradle you and support you in all the right ways. There’s a damn shoe rack by the door, what the fuck. 

You pause, looking at the shoe rack with his boots and sneakers lined up neatly. You lift your foot to pull off your heel and he stammers. 

“You can leave them on.” He manages and you chuckle. 

“I don’t wanna scratch your floors.” You say, but also, your toes are cramping. He offers his hand for you to use as balance and you grip it tightly, pulling off your shoes and placing them on the rack. You look back up at him, significantly taller than you now. 

“You said you were making something?” You prompt and he nods, pulling the towel off his shoulder. 

“Chicken Marsala.” He says, turning and heading for the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I thought maybe we could talk…” he trails off. He stirs a pot on the stove and you lean against the door frame, watching him. 

“Talk?” You repeat. 

“Yeah. I figure we owe it to each other.” He says, licking sauce off his finger as he meets your gaze. “Right?” You nod mutely. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some wine?”

“I think drinking is what got us into this situation.” You remind him and he grins. 

“Fair.” He grabs a bottle of your favorite red wine and sets it on the island bar. “Whenever you want it.” He says, going back to cooking. 

Oh, what the hell. You’re gonna need something to make it through this. You pour yourself a glass and move through to the living room. There’s a dining table off to the side, in front of some sliding glass doors to the backyard. There are actual chairs at the table, a complete set. Color you impressed. 

A polished mirror hangs over a side table with pictures of him and his war buddies. You look at the pictures, Benny catching your eye in every single one. Strong, tall, competent. Then you lift your gaze to the mirror and spot him watching you from the kitchen. He sends you a warm smile, wiping his fingers on the towel. You straighten your shoulders and a mark at the base of your neck catches your attention. 

Instantly, you remember Benny over you, pressing you into your couch, sucking and biting on your neck as you cum around him. Your face flushes and you drop your gaze once more. You need stronger willpower. But then, there’s a reason your gym membership has lapsed and there’s a half eaten package of Oreos you got yesterday. 

Soft fingers trail lightly down your arm and your entire body electrifies. You suck in a breath, looking up to meet Benny’s gaze in the mirror. You can see the plates on the table but as you turn, you only have eyes for him. His gaze is intense, trapping you. Memories of that night dance through your mind, the way he felt on you, the desperate way he held you. 

You want it again. Your brain short circuits and before you know it, you’ve pulled him to you and you’re kissing him. 

God, you don’t realize how much you need this. His hands grip your back, lifting you and kissing you like his very life depends on it. He lifts you up and walks you backward into the edge of the table, still kissing you desperately. You moan against his lips, dragging in a ragged breath of air before giving back into him. 

His lips are feverish as they trail down your jaw, your neck, leaving blisters of pure bliss. He has you up on the table before you even realize it, leaving marks on your neck. The heat that blazes down your spine is unreal as you pull his face back up to yours. 

Did he kiss you like this last time? This feels different, almost possessive. 

His big hand slides up your thigh, avoiding that spot behind your knee as he grips the meat of it, spreading you a little wider for him. His hips are rocking against yours, dry humping you despite the fact that he towers over you. 

Fuck, he’s a great kisser. 

You rock back against him, trying to angle your hips for better friction. The heat is pooling low in your belly now, simmering while all of his attention is focused above your waist. 

“Lean back.” He whispers, pulling away from your mouth just long enough to urge you backward. You want to keep kissing him, you never want the kissing to end, but the look in his pretty blue eyes has you obeying. 

He drags his nose down your torso, kissing the fabric of your work dress as he goes, his fingers curling around the hem of it at your thighs. He pulls it up as far as the table will let him. He guides your feet to his shoulders, kissing your ankles.

“Lift your hips, baby.” He says and you hesitantly push against his shoulders. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He promises, gripping your calves. You push a little harder, surprised when he doesn’t budge an inch. Your hips lift off the table and he pushes your dress up over your waist, exposing your stomach as well. He steps closer, lifting you higher and he pulls your panties down slowly, watching them track down your thighs, over your knees, your shins before they’re dangling on your ankles in front of his face.

You expect him to push into you, primed as you are in this position, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kneels, lowering your legs slowly. He takes off your panties and they disappear, never to be seen again. He guides your legs to either side of his head, dragging his nose up your thighs, inhaling and kissing his way. 

“You smell like heaven.” He murmurs, spreading your lips. “Fuck.” He moans, licking a slow stripe up your heated center. You whimper at the promise of pleasure. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, Benny Miller knows how to eat pussy. 

His tongue flicks at your clit and the series of moves he does next leaves you breathless and gripping at his hair. His hat had been knocked off at some point during your make out session. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp and he dives deeper, fingers gripping your waist as he holds you to him, drinking from you like he’s dying of thirst. His blue eyes flicker to yours and he buries his mouth against your clit, sucking it right off your body. He growls, it vibrates through you and you arch off the table at it. “F-fuck! Right there right there.” You urge and he doubles his efforts, shoving you head first over the edge. You cum in his mouth and he slurps it all up, not showing any sign of slowing down. 

Your muddled mind flashes on a comment he made last week, Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand.

Oh god. 

His tongue and lips are pulling noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. No part of you is left neglected by his mouth, he’s determined to live up to his word. Your legs are shaking as his tongue nudges and swirls and flicks at your clit. You’re trying not to trap his head between your thighs, but somehow you really don’t think he’d mind. He moans, and that needy sound sends you over the edge again. Your hips buck and you grab for his big hands. He laces his fingers with yours, blue eyes on your face again. 

His tongue laps at your slit, catching your cum, but he doesn’t come up for air. He just keeps eating you. Puffs of his breath skate over your mound and he’s back to sucking your clit right off your body. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp, vision spinning and you feel his grin. You try to pull at your stuff dress, it’s restricting, you can’t breathe in it. He urges you to one more orgasm, this time your legs do trap his head for a minute as you tremble through it. Then he pulls away, almost reluctantly, helping you sit up. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress, baby.” He mutters, reaching around you to unzip it. You wrap your arms around his waist for support as he does the work. You can’t help yourself, you press kisses against his chest, nuzzling into him. He’s so solid, so permanent against you. In return, he’s kissing along your neck as he struggles with your zipper for a second. “How do you do this by yourself in the morning?” He mutters, lips fluttering against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. You moan, arching into him. 

“It’s easier in the morning.” You pull at the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers along his taut muscles. You lift it up to expose his bare chest and you lick and kiss at him, blindly finding a nipple and teasing it with your tongue. 

“Mmm.” He hums, finally sliding the zipper down. He pulls it, loosening the dress around you before lifting the dress off over your head. His lips are on yours before it’s even left his hands. He’s kissing you desperately, holding your body tight against his. Fucking shouldn’t have this much kissing, right? He shouldn’t be kissing you like his very life depends on it. And yet, you’re kissing him back just as hard. His fingers pinch your bra clasp and that’s gone in the blink of an eye. You’re fully naked on his dining room table. 

“Can you stand?” He asks softly, pulling away enough to tilt your head back and kiss along your throat. 

“Yeah, I think so.” You reply, holding onto his shoulders. 

“Okay. Lay back.” He urges, kissing down your chest and trapping a nipple in his mouth. 

You lay back, the wood cold against your newly exposed skin. He kisses his way down your body and spreads your thighs once more. 

“You’re fucking delicious. I could spend hours doing this to you.” He says, tracing your clit lightly with his thumb. You buck your hips in response to the touch and he chuckles. “In fact, I just might.” He adjusts your hips and dives in again, starting off strong. You moan, not sure how much more you can take from his perfect mouth. 

He lets your legs drape over his broad shoulders, big hands now cupping your tits and teasing your nipples as he eats you to blinding orgasm after orgasm. One bleeds into the next, your eyes are rolled back into your head, or crossed, you don’t even know. Your thighs are shaking constantly, but you can’t move, can’t squirm, he hasp you trapped. He’s making just as much noise as you are, moaning and growling possessively 

After six, or maybe nine? You try to push his head away, whimpering. “N-n-no more.” You beg and he’s slow to pull off, still sucking your clit as he does. 

“Fucking best pussy I’ve ever had.” He says, massaging your thighs a little. “You did so good.” He looks down at you, panting and boneless on his table. “Mhm, I need you like this every day.” He says, moving around you and hooking his arms under your knees and shoulders. 

“Can’t handle every day.” You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder. 

He chuckles. “Okay, every other day.” You don’t even argue because you know now you don’t actually have the power to resist him. He’s too good, too much of what you need. 

He sets you gently on the couch and starts undressing himself as you watch. He’s a fucking work of art, muscles within muscles, long and lean and powerful. You reach for him, wanting to taste him. He stopped you last time, but you need to this time, if only to give your poor cunt a break. 

“Pretty girl,” he captures your wrist. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “I wanna taste you.” You say softly and he groans, running fingers through his messy hair. 

“Can you kneel?” He asks, moving around to the back of the couch. You nod and roll, propping yourself over the back of it. It’s the perfect height for him. He strokes his hard cock, giving it a forceful tug as you open your mouth. “If you make me cum before I have a chance to fuck you again,” he starts.

“I’ll just get you hard again.” You promise, reaching for his shaft. Remembering how good it felt inside you had you dripping. You’re not leaving without it tonight. 

You lick the tip slowly, tasting the salt of his sweat, the sweet precum. You drag your tongue around the crown and slide him into your mouth. You suck as you pull him back out, focused like a laser on this part of him. In as deep as you can get him, sucking hard on his way out. Tongue flickering against the tip and massaging along the sensitive underside as you slide him in deep. 

It isn’t until he grunts, fingers buried into the back of the couch that you think to look up at his face. Twisted in concentration, he’s watching your every move like a hawk. Your own eyebrows furrow, wondering if you’re doing it wrong. 

He lets out a breathy chuckle and smooths your eyebrows back down. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me with your hot little mouth, I’m trying not to cum immediately.” He says and you smile around his cock.

You pull it out, licking down his shaft. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I wanna taste it. Plus, I came plenty in yours. Fair is fair.” You remind him, flicking your tongue out against his balls. He hisses. You lift his hand off the back of the couch and place it in your hair. Something about a man’s hand fisting in your hair as you suck him off has you weak. Especially if that man is Benny Miller. 

You worship his balls for a minute, licking them, sucking them into your mouth as you watch his face, lazily stroking his shaft. 

“Oh fuck.” He moans, pulling your hair tie out and gathering your hair in his hands. He definitely has a thing about your hair being down while he’s with you. He did it last time, too. “Right there, baby. Oh fuck, that’s perfect.” He moans. 

You kiss back up his shaft, sliding him deep into your mouth, tapping the back of your throat as you start to bob your head. You grip his ass, pulling him closer so you can get deeper. He slides down your throat and you swallow around him. He growls and bucks his hips. 

You start bobbing your head faster, using your tongue wherever you can reach. His hips are starting to thrust, too, and watching him use your mouth for his pleasure when so far he’s been all about yours, is such a turn on. 

You pull him closer still, holding him in place where he can’t pull out at all. He’s throbbing in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer. You start sucking harder, massaging his balls. You look up at his handsome face, finding his eyes already trained on you. His cock swells in your mouth and you bury him down your throat, feeling him cum. You let him pull out slightly, his cum spurting onto your tongue and filling your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss, tasting it, rolling it around as you suck and massage his shaft for all of it. 

Finally he pulls out and you swallow every last drop with a soft hum of approval. 

“Fuck.” He surges forward, kissing you hungrily, fingers tangle in your hair as his tongue invades your mouth, licking into every corner and dancing with yours. You pump his cock, feeling how hard he still is. “You’re fucking perfect.” He groans, pulling back to look at you. You kiss him again but he only allows it for a second before pulling away. 

He moves around the couch and you’re about to sit back down but he grabs your hips. “Stay right here, beautiful. This is how I want you.”

You arch your back down, presenting your cunt to him with a playful wiggle of your ass and he groans, spreading you and licking your cunt again. “So fucking good.” He moans, starting to eat you out once more. The desperate way he’s devouring you triggers an orgasm before you can even try to stop him. You cry out, bucking and grinding against his face. He really is insatiable. He holds you firmly in place as he eats you out again, this time sliding two fingers inside. You tighten around them involuntarily as he finds your g-spot. They stick to it like glue, rubbing in time with his mouth suck you and you’re seeing stars. Mouth hanging open as he drags another three orgasms from you this way. Your cum is dripping down your thighs, his elbow, his chin, but you can’t stop. He won’t let you. 

You're nearly in tears when he finally pulls away, his fingers sliding out of your drenched cunt and leaving your trembling walls to flutter around nothing. 

You feel his cockhead press against your entrance and he slides in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. His arms brace against the back of the couch, caging you in. You can feel his broad chest, mere inches from yours. He nestles home inside you, forehead resting against the back of your skull. 

“Lean forward.” He urges, guiding you forward until you can’t anymore. He rocks into you slowly, shifting his arms around you, holding you. It’s so tender, so soft, it doesn’t belong with two people who are just fucking. But it feels right. It feels like Benny. 

Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head, down the side until he reaches your ear. “Feel so fucking good around me.” He praises softly. “So fucking good. I can’t get enough of you.” He kisses down your neck. “I’ll make it okay.” He says and you frown slightly, wondering what he means, but his words are soon forgotten as he starts to move a little more inside you, building up to a good speed. 

You whimper and he clutches your hands, holding you tight against him. You can only cling to his long fingers as he fucks you, that pleasure building fast. He’s filling you in a whole new way, reaching parts of you he didn’t last time. Kisses are pressed against your shoulder as he thrusts faster and faster, marks are sucked into your skin, claiming you for himself. 

You didn’t notice the mirror hanging on the wall across from you. It’s hanging at the perfect height to see him fucking you, lost in pleasure as he buries his face in your neck. Puffs of breath on your heated skin, and he looks up, seeing you watching him in the mirror. Never mind your own fucked out look. 

“So fucking pretty, baby. Look how good you’re taking my cock. Look how pretty you look.” He murmurs, his eyes trained on your face in the mirror. “Cum. Cum for me baby. See how pretty you are when you cum. See why I can’t get enough of you.” He urges, thrusting faster, deeper. He nibbles at your earlobe, fingers, still twisted in yours, pinching at a nipple. You buck, mouth falling open as he makes you cum. He kisses up your jaw, licking and sucking another love bite. “Fucking gorgeous.” He praises. “You have me wound so tight, I won’t last much longer, baby. You feel so good.” He growls. 

One hand stays trapped around you. The other slides between your thighs, strumming your clit and you let out a pathetic cry, cumming again. Your walls squeeze and roll against his shaft, trying to keep him inside you. 

“That’s it baby. So good. Squeeze me so tight.” He praises, keeping his fingers moving against your clit. “Keep watching us, pretty girl. Watch me cum inside you, fill you to the brim.” 

Despite the fact that your eyes desperately want to roll back in your head, you watch him in the mirror. His forehead furrowed in concentration, his eyes focused on you and you alone, his hair messy from all the times you grabbed it while he ate you out. 

Another pinch to your nipple, rolling it between his expert fingers. He licks a bead of sweat off your shoulder and you thrust back against him. 

“Do it.” You tell him, watching his face in the mirror. “Fill me up. Cum inside me. I wanna feel you filling me.” You beg and his whole face relaxes. His forehead rests against your crown. He’s mumbling something but you can’t quite make it out. He doubles his efforts on your poor abused clit, forcing another final orgasm from you before he thrusts in completely, cumming inside you. He growls, thrusting once, twice, three times to bury all his cum where it belongs. You slump in his arms, completely worn out. He rests against you, not quite his full weight but enough of it to keep you where he wants you, under him. You watch his face in the mirror, entranced by the tenderness you see there. 

He doesn’t move for a long time, keeping you stuffed full of his cock, making sure his cum doesn’t leak out. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly. 

You nod. You’re better than okay. You’re orbiting Saturn in orgasmic bliss. 

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He offers and you look at him, twisting your face to the side. 

“Yeah.” You nod and he kisses you deeply, leaving no doubt in your mind that this will happen again. Probably in a couple hours. 

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He pulls out of you with a reluctant groan and you have to agree. You’d like him to stay right there forever. 

“Then can we eat?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing. 

“Yeah, baby. We can eat.”

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose @littlenosoul

[wroteclassicaly]

Comfort

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader x Steve Harrington)

Summary: Mother Nature is a bitch, and well, so are you. Until your boyfriends decide to help out a little…

Pairings: Steddie x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2,757

Warnings: Language, NSFW, bodily fluids, anxiety, thrupple fighting, blood, period stuff, period sex, vaginal sex, obvious threesome, tooth rotting fluff & comfort, and MORE!

A/N: You know, I can’t ever write a fic with the general idea in mind, and stick to it. I always have to develop additions along the way. Anyways, I’m gonna try and keep this one short, and I hope it makes sense, lol. It started out as comfort and I decided to just go for it, so if period sex/blood in smut is not your thing—AVOID! I also couldn’t decide between the two men, thus I am doing a three way again!

The feedback on She’s Trouble has been immaculate and astounding to me! I thank all of you so much, with all my heart! I’m sorry I couldn’t reply to everyone, it was just a lot! But I saw every comment and tag! 💘🥹

Also, I’m not using tags, because I don’t know who will and will not be comfortable with this kind of content!

I hope y’all enjoy this?! <3 - Kristen

~*~

You tried to be still at the Wheeler’s kitchen table, you really did. Listening to Nancy get lost in a speech about her latest editorial, Robin hyping her up on the sidelines, and the kids throwing popcorn at each other in the living room, with Mike bitching about it getting in the carpet and pissing his mom off. Your heels haven’t touched the floor since you began bouncing your feet about ten minutes ago, fingers fighting twitching urges to staple themselves to your temples. There’s probably a sour look of disgust on your face, but you’re starting to pass that point where do not you care. With the last dousing of humid air over Hawkins, Indiana, you feel as if your entire core temperature is a blazing inferno.

Combine that with the lacking effects your morning shower had to keep you cooled down, and you make for one pissed off person. You roll your eyes at your own dramatic antics, squirming in the seat and causing it to make a shifting squeak. It must be louder than you heard, as Nancy is questioning you. “Hey, you okay, Y/N?”

Dear god in Heaven, why is she drawing attention to me?

You fold your arms across your chest, tucking them neatly, teeth grinding as you force out, “I’m fine, Nance.”

“You don’t look fine. You actually, kinda look like you’re about to puke.” Robin interjects, hand draped across the chair adjacent to yours.

If you could move without that disgusting flood between your legs, then you would probably kill your best-friend for stating the obvious.

“Who’s gonna vomit?” Comes a deep voice that takes his place beside Nancy, who now has her brows knit in concern. Steve.

And wherever he goes, Eddie has followed, as of lately. You’re clenching your lids closed, head bowing, hands resting across your heated cheeks. When you look up, Eddie has that stupid shit eating grin on his face that you can’t decide if you want to punch or kiss. An automatic shared stare is directed your way, making you sink under its observation, nausea growing.

Steve speaks first, noting your disheveled appearance. There’s sweat beading all over your face, tension in your normally relaxed muscles, and you give an air of a trapped animal. He frowns, moving around the table and readying his large hand to place on your forehead. You quickly dart off, waving your hands. “How about no, dude?”

Dude? Since—

“when do you call Harrington a dude, baby?” Eddie cuts Steve’s internal questioning, confusing himself.

“When he starts crowding my personal space, Edward. That’s when.” You snap, Nancy clicking her tongue as the wheels spin in her head and she lands on knowing exactly what is going on with you.

Eddie’s jaw unhinges in a comical pry, hand splaying across his heart. “Okay, now that was just nasty.”

“Um, do I look at all like I care?” Hands on your hips, that crowded anxiety begins tangoing with your hormones, anger seeping from your pores like acid.

You know your mood towards them is irrational, you are too aware. But there’s a devil on your shoulder that goes by Aunt Flo, and she’s getting her kicks by pulling your strings.

“Okay, that’s enough. What is going on with you?” Steve raises his deep voice a few octaves, annoyed and defensive of himself and your shared partner.

Ever-changing moods, guilt swells in your chest, carving out its permanent residence for the next several days. Your vision blurs and you clamber from your seat, apologizing to Robin and Nancy, before walking over to where Eddie and Steve stand side by side, your fingers brushing over their hands, voice barely above a whisper. “M’ sorry. I just wanna go home, please.”

Eddie is perturbed. It was his week to pick out the restaurant for date night, and you’d all planned on driving over there after your excursion at the Wheelers. And now you’re acting like he and Steve are dog shit on your shoes. He’s nauseated.

Nancy is quick to catch you in a hug before you can leave, rubbing up and down your shoulders, her voice by your ear. “They might be guys, but I’m pretty sure they’ll understand if you tell them what’s going on.” She pecks your cheek and gives you another squeeze, sliding back and away, dropping off with an, “I’ll call you later, okay?”

You’ve never been more grateful for her and that mutual understanding.

~*~

The ride back to your house is silent. You’d opted for the backseat of Steve’s BMW, leaving your boyfriends up front with each other, stealing glimpses of your exhausted face in the rear view. When you do arrive at your cul-de-sac, you linger on the door handle, partially expecting them to object to your retreat. Eddie, whom can read you like a fucking textbook he’d studied three times over in school—isn’t having it. You can’t blame him.

“We’re goin’ on the date. You can stay home and mope and bitch at the wall. We’ll bring you somethin’ back later.” He’s got his hands folded across his black t-shirt clad chest, opting to cast his gaze elsewhere as you silently remove yourself from the car, heart being pulverized beneath your breast.

“No, it’s okay. Don’t… just don’t worry about it, yeah?” It comes off jagged and fragmented, versus how you wanted it to sound—reassuring and strong.

You watch them both in the beginning stages of blurred vision. Steve is holding onto the wheel tightly, his expressions fighting for dominance—ones that you can’t decipher in the moment. Anger or defeat, maybe? You nod, at who, you aren’t sure. You wring your fingers together.

“Well, okay. Be safe and have a good time.” As if Aunt Flo didn’t destroy your entire day, she up and leaves you for vacation, obliterating all your previous anger.

Stupid fucking hormonal bitch.

“I love you.” Comes off your lips in a softness that is directed at them both.

Eddie does seek you out then, nostrils flaring, chocolate irises softening. Steve opens and closes his mouth, words caught. You don’t stay behind to embarrass yourself any longer.

~*~

Cramps that are absolutely devouring your insides, you figure that’s a good punishment for your attitude today. Tylenol, nor the heating pad are helping, and your migraine has only worsened since you got off the phone with Nancy and an apologetic Robin, who made enough ‘crimson tide’ jokes to take you into the next century. Smoothing things over with them eased some anxieties, but you can’t stop thinking about how your boys are enjoying the date that Eddie was so excited about. Is it a burger joint that will be followed by chocolate shakes and handcuffs? Or maybe it’s a fancy little pizzeria and some cheap wine, with Eddie’s finest stash and his sinfully gifted mouth?

Whatever it is, it’s your fault that you’re not partaking. Scrubbing a hand across your tear stained eyes, you discard the heating pad and opt for some good ol’ fashioned sulking in your room. However, you don’t make it to the stairs before your front door is being unlocked and opened by the spare key, making you swallow in fear, uncertainty about who is there, until sunsets’ golden hues cast a halo around Steve Harrington’s beautiful face, his form framed in your doorway. His chestnut locks are discombobulated, but those freckles are crystal clear consolations. When he drinks you in, you immediately run into his embrace, his biceps flexing to hold onto the bags in each hand, letting them go, not even seconds later, enfolding you in a cocoon of: aftershave, Eddie’s lingering cigarette smoke, cologne, and freshly washed clothing. Steve.

You bury your face in his baby blue Henley, cheek tickled by wisps of chest hair that peeks out from a few undone buttons. He begins rubbing your back, strong hands kneading that specific tension at your tailbone, a moan dipping off your lips at the muscular relief. You mewl into him, his hands cupping your cheeks as you pull away with closed eyes, head tilted back.

“There we go, honey.” He’s praising, thumbpads scraping your cheekbones, down to your jawline. “What a good-fucking-girl.”

Broken syllables are uttered from you, a diaphragm depth voicing of neglected need, staved off by hormones. Steve knows what words and phrases get your bones dusted to ash, your body a pile of goo. And through a confusing midst, you’re worried about having to turn away his implications. These kinds of sensual conversations always lead to you underneath your boyfriend, cunt stuffed full of his fat cock, tears cooling in your lash line, Eddie encouraging Steve to fuck you just a little past your limit, because that limit is heightened each time. But right at this very moment… you can’t.

You feel the shiver overtake you, and Steve holds you closely again, fingertips striking goosebumps alive along the expanse of your arms.

“Leave me with half the load out here, Harrington. And look at this? Hogging our girl, dude?” Eddie interrupts, a little winded and depositing more grocery bags in your doorway beside Steve’s feet. His repeating your earlier phrase—sans malice or biting sarcasm, it has you grinning, making Eddie help himself to wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Eddie’s spicy and earth scent, cluttered with that cigarette smoke off his fresh pack, it collides into Steve’s, rendering you into that overlapping heap of stupid slut. And your little shits, they know. It’s what has you trying to pull away, remembering your situation. Eddie knocks his knuckles beneath your shirt, caressing and massaging that same spot Steve had pinpointed. You’re whimpering, pleading. “Don’t. I can’t right now, Eds.”

And if you thought Eddie Munson couldn’t surprise you anymore in this lifetime, you’d be damned for eternity. His lips find the shell of your ear, that smirk that causes his teeth to graze your lobe. It works itself off his tongue, hot and offered. “A little blood won’t stop the fun, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen so hard that a protesting sting takes place in the muscles. You want to bury yourself in the floor and never come out, sidestepping their holds and becoming guarded. “How do you even know?”

“Nance,” Steve answers nonchalantly, “we called her when we went back to Eds place after dropping you off.”

“Wait, what about the date?” You’re in a stammering disbelief. “You didn’t let me ruin it, please fucking tell me—“

“Babe, and I mean this in the most respectful of ways,” Eddie says as he steps forward, gripping your shoulders, “can you please stop talking for five minutes and let Harrington’s sweet mouth explain? Besides, no way we were actually gonna go on that date without you.”

Steve smirks. Your brows pinch together and you huff, giving Steve the leeway to continue, meanwhile your heart is swollen with affection at Eddie’s admission. “At first she didn’t want to tell us, saying it wasn’t her place, but then Munson over there wouldn’t quit doing that begging thing he does, and then Robin started in by telling Nance that she can’t imagine his cute puppy eyes in agony, so… yeah.”

“Really?” You snort, shaking your head at your rocker boyfriend.

“Hey! It worked though, didn’t it?” Eddie is grinning, a grin that you most definitely want to kiss. “Found out our girl’s got a case of bein’ on the rag.”

“Must you use that phrase, Eddie?” You wince, your hand resting on your lower abdomen.

Steve remembers the bags and nudges Eddie’s shoulder to help him pick them up and take them into your kitchen. You’re stealing peeks when they’re discarded onto the kitchen counter, like a kid at Christmas time. Steve places his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and using his palms to dig into that ache in your stomach, soothing it.

This guy is a fucking Adonis…

“Go ahead, baby. The stuff is for you. Well, some of it is for the big kid over there.” Steve chortles, Eddie flipping him the bird as he snatches his gummy worms from a sack.

“I don’t deserve it. I was a bitch to you guys.” You are mortified and saddened, hand pausing on the crinkling plastic.

Steve pecks your shoulder blade, pressing his cheek into the curvature of your neck. “Yeah, you were, but it’s not like you didn’t have a reason. And this stuff—total magic. An aphrodisiac to Mother Nature.”

“Nance totally told you guys what I’d need, huh?” You laugh, Steve joining in.

“We still remembered your favorites though. Lots of chocolate, Pringles, half of the gummy worms from Eddie’s bag.” At this, Eddie looks up, candy pinched between his milky white teeth. It’s endearing, really.

“Don’t forget about all the movies we hoarded from your work!” Eddie adds in. “Chick flicks galore, and lotsa horror. Maybe even a porno or two.” He sucks his sticky fingers into his mouth, letting them drop out with a pop.

Steve hums, nipping at your neck. “Let him talk me into bondage this time. He promises we’ll like it.” A kiss is seared into your skin.

You aren’t aware that you’ve began grinding back against Steve, tongue licking across your parched lips, hands shredding the bags’ handle, pupils blown as you watch Eddie, until Steve is groaning and pumping his hips into your backside, beckoning you closer. “Aw, fuck. That’s it, babygirl, rub that ass all over my cock.”

“Too m-messy.” You try, but make zero effort to stop.

“Messes are made to be cleaned, Y/N. You think we’re incapable of doing that?” Eddie is stalking closer, wedging himself between you and the counter, leaving you smashed between your guys. Eddie dips in a bend, then drags his already growing bulge over your clothed cunt. Steve is swelling against your ass, making you a simpering mess. They pass you back and forth in bumping thrusts, each matching the other, dominating your own, their mouths attaching fresh marks across each side of your neck.

You toss your hands back, pulling on two textured sets of hair. “Gotta stop. Fuck, s’ not… I can’t.”

And then they do stop. It makes all the blood rush to your head, dizzy. Eddie’s fingertip nicks your chin, tilting. “Ask us to stop then, Y/N.”

“And we will. You know we will.” Steve is speaking behind you. They share a look of love and strength.

You’re brimmed with an engulfing desire that is smothering every cell of common sense you possess. “I want. I just want…”

“You want Stevie’s cock in that messy little pussy, or mine?” Eddie kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Can’t decide. Need someone.” Oh yeah, you’re a goner.

“Think you’re lucid enough to follow us upstairs and help put some towels down, lover?” Eddie is amused, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

~*~

“That good?” Strong and thick thighs are pressed into the globes of your ass, hair tickling your flesh.

You bury your face into Steve’s freckle littered neck, muttering, legs trembling. “Mhm.”

“She’s so warm, Eds. Wait until you feel how different her pussy is like this.” His pupils are blown into a glossy black, flecks of cinnamon being all that remain of his hazel irises.

You can’t help but to tighten around Steve, legs locking around his waist, tugging him in closer as Eddie drapes himself across your chest and sucks a sensitive nipple into his mouth, cushioning his bites with those plush lips. Steve lets out this feral whimper, stifling it in your neck as he falls forward, driving himself into your overly wet pussy, the blood and arousal making it a slippery, but too easy of a glide. You’ve soaked the towel below, a fascination Eddie can’t take his eyes off of, stroking his cock in time with Steve’s rhythmic movements. That spot is hit inside of you and it’s more intense than you ever remember, making your vision black out, thigh trembling beyond your control. Eddie, patient and awaiting his turn with you, brings your mouth to his for a kiss, his tongue caressing your own in a sloppily slick push.

Saliva strings on the break-away, Eddie’s fondness of you growing. “S’ all tender and soaked inside? Gonna make me feel as good as it’s makin’ Stevie feel?”

You’re trying to nod, but it’s weak. “It’s amazing. You’re both, so fucking good. You’re everything.” You babble on.

Steve lifts his face from the cove of your jugular, licking at your sex-drenched skin. “That’s comfort, baby.”