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#because he’d ignore anything that tried to protect him.
fated-normal-767 · 6 months
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I feel really bad now . Alastor has that Byakuya pity energy where it’s like . I would give anything to punch him at least once but at the end of the day he’s in fucking high school isn’t he ?
He’s 19-20 I think, but yeah I get what you mean. He’s not great but that’s just a guy who fucked up a few times. He might be a dick but he didn’t deserve to die slowly and painfully like that’s just fucked.
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liloinkoink · 1 month
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one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal
like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him
i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?
he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so
Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!
Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up
of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.
the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse
it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead
and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left
but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably
(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)
because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!
now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.
but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
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Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.
It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.
He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.
He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.
Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)
They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.
Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.
“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”
Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.
Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.
He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.
And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.
Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.
It’s nice, too nice.
Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.
Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”
“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”
And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.
It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.
“You don’t like your job.”
It’s not a question.
“Does anyone really like their job?”
“I do.”
“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”
“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”
Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.
“I…don’t know.”
“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”
So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.
“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”
Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.
“How many days are you packed for?”
“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“
“Come with me.”
“To…soundcheck?”
“On tour.”
Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.
Could he?
What was he really doing here?
He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.
And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.
Maybe he could take this chance.
Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.
What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?
She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.
“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”
“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.
“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.
“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”
“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”
“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”
“And if I want a kiss?”
“Then a kiss you’ll have.”
“And if I want you to fuck me?”
“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”
So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.
All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.
Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.
Steve finally found something he wanted.
If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.
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ahsokaismyqueen · 2 months
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Death Wish Love Pairing - Tyler Owens x Reader Summary - You wake up in a hospital with no recollection of how you got there, only that you are now in pain. Thankfully, the presence of your boyfriend makes it a little better. Word Count - 1.1k Warnings - Language, but that's it! This is very fluffy and really just me dipping my toe in to see if I want to do more. <3
The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the pain. It was dulled, no doubt by some intense medication, but it was there. Your head was pounding, your arm was aching and your knee might’ve been attempting to murder you if a limb could do so. What was worse than all that however, was the incessant beeping that told you where you had to be. 
The hospital. 
You hated the hospital. You were one of those people that would go weeks being sick and ignoring every symptom to avoid seeing  a doctor, something that drove Tyler crazy even though he knew you had a good reason for it. In fact, he never would have taken you here if he had a choice because he knew you wouldn’t want it. You tried to recall what that reason might be, but the last few hours of your mind drew up a blank. 
Realizing that no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, the reality was you were still in a hospital, you finally opened your eyes, looking up at the white spotted ceiling. It took a couple of blinks for your vision to come back into focus, but when it did, you took a look around the room, your eyes settling on the person sitting in the chair beside you. 
It was almost funny, seeing such a big man in such a small chair. While he was asleep, he didn’t look comfortable. His head was leaning against his own shoulder at an odd angle, his baseball cap clutched in his hands on his chest, and his legs spread as far as they could. He must have been miserable, sleeping like that. 
But he was here. 
It was a little bit selfish, you’d admit that. You had no idea how long he’d been asleep. It could have been minutes or hours, but either way, now that you were awake, you wanted some company. Your eyes landed on a cup that was laying at your bedside and a straw beside it. While it took you a couple of grabs to get it in your hands, your aim was remarkably good as you threw it at Tyler, the straw smacking him right in the face. 
He startled awake, and his gaze went straight to you. A relieved smile formed on his face, not even angry that you had just assaulted him with a straw. “Well, it looks like someone’s feeling better.”
“I don’t know if that’s the right term. Heavily drugged is more accurate.” You admitted, looking over at him once more and noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the state of his very creased flannel. “You look like shit.” You said. 
Tyler shook his head at you, but that smile you loved faded from his lips. He moved his chair closer to you, his knees bumping into the side of your bed, and you closed your eyes for a moment as he leaned forward and brushed some hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me baby.” 
“It must have been bad if you’re being so sweet to me.” You said, but you both knew that wasn’t true. Tyler was nothing but sweet to you, if not a bit protective. “I don’t remember anything.” You admitted. “Must have gotten knocked in the head pretty good.” 
“Yeah, stop signs’ll do that to you.” He said, sliding his hand down from your head to take yours in both of his. 
It took a minute for his words to sink in, and for you to realize what he was saying. “Are you telling me a stop sign-”
“Flew straight into your head, and then knocked you down on your arm and knee? Afraid so.” Tyler started caressing your hand with his thumb. “Haven’t seen that much blood in a long time, might’ve traumatized Dani a bit.” 
You let out a groan, and this time it wasn’t from pain. “They’re never gonna let me hear the end of this.” 
Tyler let out a short laugh of disbelief. “They’re just going to be glad that you’re okay.” 
“And then they’re going to tease me mercilessly.” You groaned again, putting your hand to your forehead dramatically only to wince when your hand touched a bandage. “Ouch.” 
He grabbed your hand with a sigh, pulling it away from your face. “Don’t do that.” 
You looked over at your boyfriend again, noting with a frown once again how stressed he looked. It wasn’t an emotion you saw often on his face. The few times you could recall seeing it were in the face of tornado damage. “Are you okay, seriously?” You asked, real concern in your voice. 
Tyler sent you a weak smile. “Carrying your bleeding body into the back of an ambulance wasn’t my favorite thing I’ve ever done.” 
You tried to put yourself in his shoes, imagining what it would have been like to see this man, this man you adored and loved with every fiber of your being, laying on the ground and not moving. It was a nightmare you had often with the line of work you were both in, and something you tried not to think about. Now though, reality had given you a slap in the face, and you knew that if you had seen Tyler like he must have seen you, you would have been hysterical. The thought of what he must have been through made you want to grab him and pull him into this tiny bed with you and hold him. But you knew that would probably break it, and this hospital visit was already going to be expensive, so you reached out with the arm that wasn’t hurting and cupped his handsome face in your hand. “I’m okay, baby.” You tried to reassure him, but at his look of disbelief, you backtracked. “Well . . . mostly.” 
He turned his head to press a soft kiss against your palm that still managed to send butterflies through your stomach, even with all the pain meds. “I’m getting you a helmet.” 
“Can it have your face on it?” You teased him. 
His genuine smile started to return to his face as he leaned forward. “Baby, it can have whatever you want on it.” 
Your fingers slid into his soft blonde hair, pulling him even closer until your lips were centimeters away. “I’ll take it under consideration.” 
Tyler’s smile was full on his face now as he leaned forward a little more to close the gap between the two of you when the heart rate monitor started beeping faster and faster. He pulled away to glance at it, then smirked at you. “That wouldn’t be because of me now would it?” He asked with a smirk. 
You shook your head at him. “Nope, definitely the pain meds wearing off.” 
But you were proven a liar as his soft lips pressed against yours. 
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taintedcigs · 10 months
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˚     . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄
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vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson
summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)
warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.
authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!
and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily
read vol. 1 here
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Fuzzy.
Exactly how your mind and body felt.
You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.
King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.
He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.
And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.
Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.
Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.
You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.
Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?
“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.
It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu. 
Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.
He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.
He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.
Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.
They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.
and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time. 
Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless. 
He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees. 
So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him? 
“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this. 
“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips. 
He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him. 
“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk. 
You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before. 
“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.  
Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact. 
The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing? 
“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. 
“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.” 
Eddie almost lost it at that.
Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even. 
“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk. 
Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him? 
“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town. 
Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?
“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!? 
“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.
“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?
 “You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again. 
“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you. 
He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs. 
“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool. 
Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove. 
His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy. 
Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you. 
You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?
“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”
“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed. 
Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” 
Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you? 
A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.
“D-don’t!” 
“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.
“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”
A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.” 
Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?” 
And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp. 
Eddie. 
These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this. 
They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party. 
“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk. 
Cocky bastard. 
You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes. 
“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you. 
“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.
“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it. 
“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink. 
“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no. 
You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it. 
You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.” 
“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back. 
Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you. 
。°。°。°。°。°
“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.
Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.
Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.
“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.
“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.
They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too. 
“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence
“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.” 
Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.” 
You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!
And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more. 
And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.
“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you. 
Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked. 
You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy. 
They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them. 
Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?” 
“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert. 
“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff. 
Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes. 
He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it. 
“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging. 
“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you. 
“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something. 
You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing. 
“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh. 
He needed both of you. 
You needed both of them. 
And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it. 
“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy. 
Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!” 
“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world. 
“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.
“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all. 
“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin. 
“See you later, boys.”
。°。°。°。°。°
“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it. 
“You think Michael Myers is hot?”
“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.
“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”
With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle. 
He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips. 
He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”
He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.” 
You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”
“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt. 
Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him. 
It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise. 
Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his. 
Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.
“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth. 
“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them. 
You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time. 
And both of their dominance. 
You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good. 
“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you. 
A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is. 
Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you. 
And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely. 
“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect. 
“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need. 
Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display. 
He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you. 
And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully. 
It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it. 
His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out. 
He’s perfect. 
“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?” 
You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.” 
And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere. 
He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.
“No panties?” 
“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses. 
Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you. 
Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect. 
But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever. 
“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in. 
With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.” 
He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?” 
He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you. 
You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.
It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.
“Mhmm, only for you, baby.” 
Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls. 
His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines. 
“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging. 
He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls. 
“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you. 
It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough. 
You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough. 
“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming. 
And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips. 
Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge. 
You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good. 
And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.
You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze. 
“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed. 
“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.  
“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need. 
You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.” 
“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there. 
You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel. 
“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,” 
So your plan was working. 
“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it. 
You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 
A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.
He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.
Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked. 
He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this. 
“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.  
You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face. 
With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight. 
Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect. 
You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it. 
He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk. 
You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it. 
“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before. 
Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him. 
“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.
“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his. 
His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away. 
“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements. 
“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size. 
“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.
He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him. 
You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it. 
“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming. 
“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone. 
“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers. 
“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him. 
“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 
Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.
Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction. 
It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind. 
This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you. 
“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you. 
He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are. 
He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode. 
You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.
“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.
“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release. 
He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him. 
He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened. 
You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle. 
“What for?” 
“To leave, pretty boy.”
“B-but we just-” 
He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it. 
“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.
Ruined by him.
“There’s this band—”
“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly. 
“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued. 
“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips. 
“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you. 
“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?
“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face. 
“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink. 
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone. 
You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.
He would do anything you asked him to. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.
But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.
How were you supposed to hold yourself back? 
。°。°。°。°。°
“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time. 
Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!” 
“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous. 
And he was.
“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.” 
“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning. 
His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie? 
“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.
Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.
And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.” 
“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve. 
“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.
“Neither can I!”
“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.
“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”
Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.
Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?
“Dude, do you realize what that means?” 
“What?” Eddie inquired. 
“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”
“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous. 
“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you. 
“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?” 
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tradgedyinwaves · 17 days
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Ghost found you. Pretty thing standing by the produce section and Ghost thought you too beautiful to be quite so sad looking. He snapped a picture and sent it to his team with two words. Found her. 6 Months Earlier.
“Fuck you, Kit! Take your stupid whore and get the hell out!” You screamed at your soon-to-be-ex husband, throwing a vase at the wall by his head. He’d been fucking your cousin because, as he put it, she was beautiful and skinny and you were some used up fat whore. He left with her in tow, smirking evilly at you over her shoulder. 
You collapsed on the floor where you stood, sobbing as you tried to deal with your heart shattering into tiny pieces. You and Kit had started dating in high school, back when you were much smaller and he was the guy every girl wanted. Sure, you’d put on weight, but she hadn’t expected it to be the thing that destroyed your relationship. Well, that caused your asshole ex to do what he’d done. 
The thing was you lived in an apartment building in a quiet neighborhood in Upper New York, second story with a neighbor above and below. You’d talked to the masked man that lived above, constantly having to apologize for the volume level that Kit would get to at 4 am when he was playing his games. The masked man would just grumble and glare, telling you to make sure he kept it down.
By the 6th or 7th time, Ghost noticed the bruise on your arm despite your efforts to hide it under a loosely knitted sweater and grunted, eyeing the mark before his dark chocolate hues flicked to yours in question. You blew him off, saying you fell in the bathtub, but he couldn’t ignore the fingerprint shape the purple splotch made. 
This time he came down and banged on the door, a sense of urgency behind it. He’d never heard you scream like that and he’d found himself with a need to protect you, if he could. You stood from your spot, wiping your tears as you moved to the door. Peeking through the peephole, you let out a heavy sigh and steeled yourself for the masked man’s wrath. Ghost grunted at you, brow raised as he took in the way you looked. Your hair was a mess, body wrapped in a tattered sweater and dark circles that held spilled tears. “I’m so sorry for the noise. It won’t happen again,” you stated, not looking up to catch the man’s eyes and moving to close the door again. But it stuck, the man’s large boot between the jam and the door. 
Your eyes widened and you opened the door, peeking around it and finally meeting his eyes. “Don’t d’serve that treatment,” Ghost grunted at you, arms still crossed over his broad chest. You’d always found him intimidating, but you had to admit that his size intrigued you. You whimpered in response, feeling a fresh wave of tears fighting to the surface.
Ghost bullied his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him with his boot as he scooped you up into his arms. He didn’t know why he was doing this, comforting a stranger like you, but he held tight to his words. From what he could hear, you didn’t do anything wrong and never raised your voice to your trash ex and no one deserved to be treated that way for nothing. 
He moved to the couch, holding you against his chest until your cries quieted down. That also meant your sense was coming back to you. You scrambled from his lap, moving to stand closer to the corner of the room. “I’m sorry. I’m okay, you don’t need to be here. I’m-I’ll be fine,” your voice shook with every word and you couldn’t look him in the eye. 
You heard the couch creak in a way it usually only did when you moved off it as heavy, black boots came into your view. You looked up and met his eyes, gasping softly as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. “Don’t look a’ me like tha’, love,” Ghost growled low in his throat, massive form hovering over you in the corner. 
Maybe something snapped inside you. Maybe you were having a full on mental breakdown. But the next thing you knew, you were raising your hand to the bottom of the black balaclava covering his face. Your eyes never left his, watching them grow darker as your fingers hooked under the bottom. You waited to see if he would stop you, but when he did it, you slowly began sliding it up and off his head, scars and marks revealed inch by inch. 
Ghost didn’t know why he was letting you see him. Perhaps he wanted you to see that you weren’t alone in your brokenness. You closed the distance, pulling him down to you as you pressed your lips to his in a desperate kiss. He obliged you, letting you lead the kiss as you worked through your pain. His gloved hands came to grasp the flesh of your waist, backing you to the wall when his self-control slipped momentarily. 
With a growl, he pulled back from you and shook his head. He stomped away from you, wrenching your door open and slamming it behind him. He leaned against your door for a moment, ripping his mask back over his head before disappearing upstairs. And you found yourself collapsed on the floor for the second time that night.
You were resolute, determined to rid yourself of everything that tied you to Kit. It would be a long six months of divorce lawyers, packing, moving, and erasing every last trace of him from your life. 
Which was why you were standing in the produce section in the middle of Manchester, England, woefully looking over the peppers you knew you’d never end up eating. You hadn’t seen anyone tied to Kit or even your own family for about four months. You were lonely, but it felt better being lonely alone instead of lonely and married. You hadn’t seen the masked man that lived above you after he comforted you that night.
You felt eyes on the back of your neck, heading whipping up in paranoia as it swiveled side to side. But you didn't see anyone. You had moved out so quickly that Ghost didn’t have a chance to check on you and had been searching for you ever since, even looping in his team. How lucky was he that six months later, he happened to be on leave and you had moved right into his hometown. ______________________________________________________________ If I continue, it'll eventually be poly!141. I'm trying not to use many identifying characteristics for the reader other than she is shorter. However, this is written with the idea that the reader is plus size. Please let me know any suggestions or ways to make this better. It's the first time I'm posting my writing publicly so please be nice.
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soapsbaby · 1 year
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Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons
Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish
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These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!
Ghost
Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.
Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.
Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.
Soap
He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.
Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).
Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.
König
He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.
Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.
Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.
Gaz
Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.
Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.
Cpt Price
Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.
Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.
Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).
Alejandro
Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.
Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 
Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.
Rudy
Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.
In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.
Valeria
Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.
Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).
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eggroll-sama · 7 months
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When Your Bikini Top Goes Loose
The Spider Society is hosting a beach party and you were invited. It was supposed to be a nice sunny outing with your lovely boyfriend, until an accident occurs with your bikini top…BASICALLY the stereotypical anime beach swimsuit trope. How would the boys react?
Miles
Tries to block the view with his body because he doesn’t want anybody else to see his girlfriend in such a vulnerable state, but his skinny stature doesn’t help, especially if you’re on the thicker side.
“O-kay! Everybody turn around! Just a little outfit malfunction, nothing to see here!”
Probably draws more attention by opening his mouth, but he didn’t mean it. Very protective boyfriend. Webs a random beach towel from the ground (apologizes later to whoever it belonged to) and hands them to you. He will help you hold it up while you fix your outfit malfunction. Very awkward but respectful. He would try to act cool and indifferent, but his mind is running 100 miles an hour.
99% chance he’ll get jealous and put off if someone saw you. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell it’s bothering him. If you ask him about it to tease him, he’s going to deny it to his grave.
Hobie
The most chill when it happens. Doesn’t get possessive if someone saw your chest since he’s a believer in normalizing public nudity, but will shoot web on their face if they were ogling or making you uncomfortable. The man just quietly saunters over to not make a big scene and helps you out. Afterwards he’d joke that his hands will be more trustworthy for your chest.
To make sure that the bikini bra doesn’t go loose again, he makes it more secure for you with his spiderwebs. 100% full proof and the bikini won’t ever go loose again.
“Okay, give a little twirl for me now. Damn, absolutely stunnin’.”
Gives you a little slap on the butt and a kiss on the cheek. Doesn’t care if anyone else sees.
Pavitr
As the ever observant boy that he is, he notices it going loose even before you. Quickly used his webs so that it covers your chest on time.
“Ay, that was a close one! Good thing your amazing boyfriend was there to help you!”
Might get creative when he’s tired out from swimming and playing volleyball, and starts crocheting you a bikini outfit while you’re laying on him. According to him, he’s a “talented, amazing, super cool, handsome” boyfriend like that. He’ll use your favorite colors and even asks you what type of design you’d prefer.
Miguel
Doesn’t have the spidey-sense to notice your bikini top going loose before it’s too late. His eyes instantly scan the area, landing on a few spider people that fervently shake their head in denial of seeing anything or acting like they were distracted.
Holds you in his arms bridal style, ignores you telling him to put you down, and takes you to the beach bathroom where you can fix your top.
He acts standoffish when you come back, and he would give you a half-baked answer if you ask what’s wrong. You get your answer when he starts to act clingier and protective over you. You catch him glancing at your bikini top’s strings several times to make sure it doesn’t go loose again and when you suggest doing anything physical like swimming or volleyball, he gets skeptical.
“What’s wrong with reading with me under the parasol? …dios, I’m just too worn out to go back into the water…(sees you running back to the water)…ay coño (chases you).”
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jinx-xxed · 2 months
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Feral Desires
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☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
A/N; This feels like a crazy jump from my first smut I posted lmfao 🫡 it was also crazy writing this, I haven’t written omegaverse in forever despite it being a favorite
Summary; You’re on a mission for the First Order, well away from your alpha, which means it’s the perfect time for your heat to start out of nowhere.
Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, omegaverse, omega reader, alpha Kylo Ren, mated to Kylo, heats, ruts, nesting, fingering, piv sex, knotting, biting/marking, scent marking, breeding kink, A LOT of breeding kink, protective and possessive Kylo, also very loving Kylo, tiny bit of size difference kink, conservative views on omegas (mostly pertaining to suppressants), omegaverse terms (kids referred to as pups), fluff
Wc; 6.4k
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
You thought it would be fine.
It should’ve been fine.
This wasn’t supposed to happen, gods, this was not supposed to happen.
Your heat was not supposed to start a month early right when you leave on a mission.
Everything had seemed okay at first; you gathered your troops after getting your assignment—investigate an uninhabited jungle planet’s surface and find out what the First Order could gleam from it. You had bid farewell to Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader and also your mate. Through your bond both in the Force and in the bite mark on your neck, you could tell how apprehensive he was to let you go. It had taken some convincing, but he’d allowed it. If he wasn’t swamped in a million other responsibilities that come with his new position, he would’ve joined you.
The trip to the planet had gone without a hitch, and everything had seemed like it was in perfect order. You were the first to step foot on the surface once your ships’ doors had opened with a hiss of depressurized air. It was quite beautiful when you took it all in; covered in lush vegetation and impossibly tall trees covered in moss, a few of which your ships had unfortunately crushed on their way down. Sensors indicated that the air was nontoxic and clean so you had gladly taken a deep breath. Smells came stronger to you with your aberrant status, meaning you could practically taste the planet on your tongue. It was damp and full of the smell of wet leaves and bark, along with the reek of wild animals you didn’t know the names of. Said animals were calling through the trees in chirps and barks. It was quite nice.
Stormtroopers fanned out, beginning to take notes of anything that seemed of importance or interest. You and your lieutenant, a beta named Mallory who’d been by your side for many years, were in charge of placing down beacons and sensors that would give you every piece of data you’d need. It’d tell you what’s beneath the planets surface like ores and minerals and what kind of regeneration systems it had. It’d be a slow process; taking scans of an entire, huge planets surface wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. That’s why you were given a weeks timeline for this mission. Easy enough.
Until you’d gotten a prickling on the back of your neck, until an odd amount of sweat started to build at your collar, until you could barely hold on to your data pad because of how slippery your palms had become. You’d tried to ignore it, tried to ignore those telltale signs because surely your heat wouldn’t be starting now? Surely it wouldn’t have been catapulted forward a month because your body got confused by you leaving your alpha and was doing what it needed to in order to bring him back?
“General? Are you alright?” Mallory asks you.
You realize you’d been standing there looking at your data pad like an idiot while warmth and sweat builds beneath your uniform. You look up and try to blink the haze out of your vision. Suddenly all those smells from before are so overwhelming. “I think I need to go back to the ship.” You mutter. You’re not stupid, you do realize it’d be irresponsible to try and ignore this. Hell, you can’t even get yourself to take a step forward when all you want to do is go back to your ship where the scents are familiar.
Mallory tenses, noticing the flush in your face and the way your demeanor is so off. She may be a beta but she’s still able to recognize the onset of a heat, especially yours after being your lieutenant for so long. That’s why she goes with you everywhere, to keep an eye on you. She’s perfect for times like these. “Okay. Let’s go, quickly.” She says, a gentle hand on your arm guiding you back the way you came.
She says commands through a radio while you walk, instructing the next in charge—a fresh-face captain—to continue the observations so they can at least get something out of this. You feel guilt pierce through your roiling stomach, cursing yourself over and over for not being able to see a very simple mission to completion. It’s embarrassing. It makes you wish you were able to take your damn suppressants again.
You haven’t taken them for about three years, ever since you became mated to Kylo. As soon as that happened, all of your suppressants were tossed and every medic on the Steadfast was strictly forbidden to give you any. If any were discovered, you knew exactly what price they’d have to pay. Before all that, you’d taken them regularly to give you some peace aboard the ship and keep your position as general safe. People were more willing to trust you with things if your omega status was… muted. It was easier to ignore.
The only reason you really got to keep your job was because you were damn good at it and you kept being an omega from getting in the way, so nobody cared. It was simple. Then Kylo came along, discovered you were Force sensitive, began to train you, and you fell for him hard. You ended up becoming his mate, his teeth laying claim to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, right where your scent gland starts. He bears a similar mark from your own teeth. He was gracious enough to let you remain as a general, even if every primal instinct he has tells him to keep you away from your job because it’s dangerous. All because he knew how upset it’d make you if he took it away, and because you’re actually competent.
However, it puts you in situations like this where you’re trying to fight off an oncoming heat while you’re on an unknown planet in an unknown space and your alpha is a galaxy away from you. You’ve learned that your status as an omega comes before your position as a general.
Mallory gets you back on to your ship that’s specifically assigned to only you two for your own safety. Never before have you been so grateful for that. She heads towards the cockpit immediately, taking her seat in the pilots chair and flipping switches. You slink towards the back of the ship, craving an enclosed space and cold air. Your heat hasn’t hit you full force yet, but you know it’s a matter of hours. You know it’s a matter of hours until your brain is pure incomprehensible mush, until your body is on fire, and until there’s a need inside so deep that it consumes your entire being and only one man can satisfy it.
It always starts out slow, with everything feeling just a bit too sensitive and your temperature rising. Then you feel it in every gland you have, a slight throb to them as your scent changes and pheromone production skyrockets. You get sweaty and those stiff uniforms the First Order requires feel like they’re boiling you alive—hence why you’re removing your jacket now. Next is the nesting, creating your own little safe space where nothing can hurt you and it’s only for you and your alpha.
It’s extremely difficult in a sterile, empty ship. You can feel your omega start to panic as it realizes there’s nothing to nest with besides your own jacket and a thin, scratchy blanket from an emergency kit in the ship. Nothing with Kylo’s scent, nothing to keep your alpha close, nothing safe, it’s not safe, oh gods-
You whine low and sad in the back of your throat as you hopelessly try and try and try to rearrange your two items into something satisfactory in your little corner. It doesn’t work of course. It only serves to send you into more of a frenzy, wishing for anything else, wishing you were back on the Steadfast, back in you and Kylo’s shared rooms where you could make as big a nest as you want with his full closet at your disposal. Comfy sheets, pillows, big capes covered in his scent… thinking about it is not helping.
The ship rumbles to life beneath you and you can feel its vibrations from how your body is pressed against the floor. The cold metal helps to keep the fever raging through you at bay. You’re curled in on yourself, your hands at your neck massaging your aching glands and the bite mark that resides there. It does little to soothe your pain but it’s all you have. You faintly hear Mallory talking, though it’s drowned out by the buzzing in your head. Until a familiar, deep voice crackles through the ships comms and has you sitting up immediately, your attention laser-focused.
“I want her back on the Steadfast immediately.” Kylo says. He sounds angry, livid perhaps. It’s enough to make you feel the need to submit despite the fact he’s not even mad at you. Hearing him does something to your bond akin to reigniting it across the distance between the two of you. It gives you the smallest bit of a connection to cling on to and you wrap yourself in it, enjoying it while it lasts. You can feel his emotions, his need for you like you need him. He’s angry he isn’t there, that he can’t provide for his omega like a good alpha should. He’s irrationally scared too—scared that something might happen to you, that some other alpha might try to get to you. He’s like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off on anyone he deems fit.
“Yes, sir, I understand.” Mallory says. She looks over at one of the monitors, pressing a few controls on the screen. “Based on what fuel remains and if I avoid active fuel preservation, it should take about five standard hours to reach your coordinates.”
Five hours. By the time you reach the Steadfast, you’ll be well intro the throes of your heat, accelerated by the fact Kylo isn’t there to help you. You haven’t had a heat without your mate for a long time and your body is not happy about it. A wave of depression and anxiety washes over you, your fingers digging into the blanket and threatening to rip it.
Kylo can sense that, sense how panicked and upset you are and it only makes his rage grow. He knows he can’t do anything about the length of your return trip and it makes him feel useless, like a sorry excuse of an alpha. You almost feel bad for the staff back on the Steadfast. “If anything happens to her, I’ll have your fucking neck.” He snaps, voice crackling through the comms.
Mallory takes the threat with neutrality. It’s nothing new to her. “Yes, sir. You have my word that I’ll keep her safe.”
Kylo calls your name suddenly and it has you stumbling to your feet and towards the radio. You grasp at the back of Mallory’s chair to keep you stable. “Alpha?” You ask, voice unable to hide your desperation.
“I’m sorry this happened. It’ll be better soon.” Kylo promises, his tone softening just a bit when he talks with you. “Be good in the meantime.”
You nod even though he can’t see it. “I will, alpha.” You’d do anything he asks.
With that, the radio clicks off and he’s gone. It felt like the only support keeping you upright was just ripped away from you, his presence in your bond fleeing and leaving you with nothing. It made your chest constrict and heat lick down your back, everything seeming to spin. Mallory rises from her chair after putting the ship on autopilot. “Go lay back down. I don’t want you to collapse.” She says. “And take these.” She hands you two bottles of water that were brought along in case of emergencies. You’re going to need them more than anything with how much fluid you lose during your heat. You down one of the bottles immediately.
You obediently take the other back to your “nest”, spending another ten minutes trying to rearrange your blanket and jacket. You eventually just give up and flop down with your knees tucked up to your chest, trying to ignore the ache across the entirety of your body. Your thoughts are still coherent at least, though you can feel them steadily slipping away. Your omega just wants Kylo, wants him more than anything. Wants his scent, his strong arms, his lips on your gland, his knot.
There it is. You whimper, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood as you feel the first trickle of slick seep into your underwear. Your breath comes out in pants that fog the metal paneling under you, your face feeling like it’s on fire. You writhe on your blanket, distracting yourself with movement and trying to find any kind of position that provides relief. Squeezing your legs together helps a little, putting some pressure on your clit and releasing more slick. You know this pair of underwear is going to be unsalvageable by the time this is over.
You can feel the slick start to stain your pants, creating a wet spot that’ll keep spreading. The ache has moved lower, now settling in your stomach and making you nauseous. Its comes in waves of cramps and hot flashes and gushing slick, creating a combination that feels like actual hell. You know that that’s how it’ll stay with the intensity increasing as the hours pass without your alpha inside you. You wish so badly you could just sleep the time away, close your eyes and open them again to Kylo there to take care of you. But you don’t feel safe enough to fall asleep. Your nest is shit, the ship is too unfamiliar, and you’re right at the beginning of your heat when you’re most vulnerable without your alpha who’s supposed to protect you.
These next five hours are about to be the longest of your life.
» ☆ «
Time passes in a haze.
A haze full of desperation, need, fire raging in your blood, and slick coating your thighs. Your vision is blurred, like a film was put over your eyes. You try to focus on the feeling of the ship underneath you instead of… anything else. The state of being in heat is all you know now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be making a drooling mess of yourself over the thought of your alpha’s cock sinking into your aching cunt.
Mallory has been trying to ignore you the whole time for her own sanity; your whines, moans, panting, and the desperate whispers of Kylo’s name passing between your lips. She’s stayed well away in the safety of the cockpit, focusing on just getting you both back to the Steadfast. Even though she’s a beta and has no specific inclinations, she can still feel the headiness in the air, sticking to the back of her neck and making her skin prickle. This isn’t anything particularly new to her, she’s been by your side for years. She knows what it means to be an omega.
That’s why she’s glad when a final jump through lightspeed sends her sensors beeping and the massive hulk that is the Steadfast appears at the top of the viewport. She keeps her hands from shaking by gripping the controls of the ship, guiding it towards home base. She has no reason to be afraid really, Kylo Ren wouldn’t do anything to her without reason after she’s proved to be so faithful, and he’ll be too focused on you anyway. Still, she can’t help the little kernel of fear in her chest as your ship is latched onto by a gravitational beam and power is taken out of her control.
All of the commotion breaks you from your stupor. You prop yourself up weakly on your elbows, your jacket and blanket soaked in slick in a heap under you from all your twisting and turning. Your face is flushed like the rest of your body, your remaining clothes stuck to your skin because of the sweat. From your place on the floor you can just barely see through the viewport, watching as the ship pulls into one of the hangars. You can sense him now. He’s so close. It’s too bad your legs are too weak to support you, otherwise you’d use them to run out of the ship to greet him.
You feel the ship shake as it settles on the ground and you hear the sounds of it powering down. Mallory rises from her chair to get to the ramp controls, a hiss of depressurized air sounding as it lowers. She steps aside and bows her head as he enters. Finally.
Kylo instantly commands the entire space around him as soon as he comes aboard the ship. It’s like everything else around him fades away because nothing else matters. His black robes do a perfect job of outlining the muscles beneath them, his fractured helmet covering his face and making him look akin to death itself. He locks onto you, you can feel it, and instantly there’s a whine coming out of your throat. Your mate is here, your alpha is here after you had to wait for so long. Your excitement is like a buzzing that encompasses your mind to the point you can’t think about anything else.
And then his scent hits you. It’s musky and heavy, amplified by his rut that was triggered by his omega’s heat. He smells like a campfire in fall, smoky and laced with something like cinnamon. When you inhale it, it’s easy to imagine being in the forests of his home planet with a nice fire to keep you warm. There’s undertones of your own scent mixed in from your mating, creating a nice combination of the two to let anyone know that you belong to one another. His scent instantly becomes the only thing you know and starts your heat all over again, fresh waves of slick pouring from your cunt and cramps seizing your stomach.
Kylo smells it, it slams into him like a freight ship, sending him reeling. He resists every feral instinct in him telling him to pounce on you right then, to pin you down and fuck your heat away, to finally take care of the constant bulge in his pants, knowing that he needs to get you somewhere safe first. Somewhere other alphas won’t be tempted by you, even if you’re mated. His scent on you sometimes isn’t enough to deter the most depraved; his hands clench into fists at the thought, the leather of his gloves creaking.
“Alpha… please..” you whimper, reaching your arms out towards him, needing so badly just to feel him, to touch him. You can barely think straight, the only thing in your head being him, him, him. He can’t deny you anything. The metal panels beneath his boots thunder with the power of his steps, it makes you quiver. Alpha is so strong, so capable.
“I know. I’m here now.” He says as he scoops you easily into his arms, voice crackling through the modifier in his helmet. It sends pleasant shivers down your spine. You can hear how ragged his breathing is, can feel it when his chest is pressed against your cheek. You cling to his padded tunic, the material familiar and comforting beneath your fingers. You become surrounded by his scent and it brings some relief to the pain you’ve been feeling, putting your omega at ease with your alpha finally with you.
You shrink yourself as much as possible in his hold as he walks down the ramp of the ship, your face buried against his arm. There’s a spike of anxiety in your chest once the bright lights and all the different smells of the Steadfast reach you; the sharp metal tang, the hints of sterile cleaning products, and then the sweat and musk of every aberrant in that hangar. It’s overwhelming when you’re fresh into your heat, but Kylo is quick to soothe you. His body produces more of his own scent to mask everything else, pheromones changing ever so slightly to have a more calming effect on you. He’s still not entirely used to the way everything about him is so tailored to you and only you even after all this time, but he loves the pride he feels when he successfully gets you to relax.
All of the workers within the hangar stay well away from Kylo. Nobody is stupid enough to approach the Supreme Leader and his mate with the state you’re in. It would only end up getting their heads detached from their shoulders. He’s given a wide berth while walking through the halls of the ship, taking whatever shortcuts he can to reach your shared rooms faster. Everything feels so hot, your breath coming out in pants and your clothes so unbearable because of the way they’ve been drenched in your fluids. You’re whimpering in his arms, sounding so sad and pathetic as your fingers knead into his chest. “I know,” he says again, softer this time, “I’ll make it better.”
There’s the beep of a control panel as Kylo gets the hydraulic doors to your rooms open, bringing you inside and letting them bang shut behind him. You’re greeted with fresh, cold air against your burning skin and comforting familiarity—your safe space. Kylo goes to set you down and you nearly wail at the thought of losing contact, not able to bear it after being without him for too long. “Just one second, I promise.” He tells you, laying a large hand against your cheek, the leather warm from the heat of his palms. You listen to your alpha like the good omega you are, standing there squeezing your legs together while he removes his helmet. His beauty always manages to enrapture you. His sharp features and pale skin dotted with freckles, the black waves of his hair that fall around his face. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, his pupils blown wide with desire. He carelessly puts his helmet aside.
Then he’s on you. His lips press against yours, hot and needy and wet, his hands coming up to grasp each side of your face. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, your arousal spiking even higher from the urgency in his kiss. You’re surprised you can even produce more slick with how much you’re already covered in but you feel another wave of it drip down your thighs anyway. His tongue licks against your teeth, exploring your mouth that you’ve willingly opened for him.
His hands are heavy weights on your hips. He moves them down to cup your ass, then lifting you easily so your legs are wrapped around his middle. His raging erection presses slightly against your aching cunt and you gasp sharply as a shiver shoots up your spine, causing you to break from your kiss. You can’t help but try to grind down on it, creating a wet spot on his pants from your slick. He groans against you, trying not to drop you from the stimulation.
He’s quick to bring you into the bedroom, kissing you with more fervor. You manage a glance backwards and see just what Kylo’s done to your shared bed. You both barely make it to the haphazard nest he’d made for you in his own desperation, his mind wanting to protect a mate that wasn’t even there and driving himself insane over it. It’s full of dark blankets, pillows, and just about every article of clothing from his closet—soft tunics, capes, undershirts—piled onto the bed so it’s positively drenched in his scent. It’s absolutely heavenly as you fall back into it, surrounded entirely by your alpha. Kylo follows after you, shedding his clothes as he goes and merely adding them onto the nest, the scent of them fresh and potent.
“All for you,” he breathes against you, sticking his face into the crook of your neck, “everything is for you.” He inhales against your gland, tongue darting out to lick sensually at it. You squirm beneath him, moaning openly as your swollen, red gland is finally given attention. His bare hands slip beneath your white tank, pulling it up and over your body, the cold air making your nipples perk up instantly. Your pants and underwear are next to come off and you squeak when your slick becomes chilly against your skin.
“Fuck,” Kylo groans, “smell so good.”
“Alpha,” you whine, wrapping your arms across his wide shoulders to bring him closer, “alpha please…”
The ache and pain you feel is starting to become too much. You need him, you need him to fuck you, to pump you full of his cum and plug you up with his knot. Just the thought of it is enough to make your legs quiver and for your cunt to flutter. He knows exactly what you’re thinking of and he feels the need in himself just as much. He needs to take care of his omega, to make sure you won’t want for anything, and guarantee that you become swollen with his pups. A growl rumbles in his chest, his cock jumping at the idea.
His hand that was on your hip moves lower and he doesn’t hesitate to sink two fingers into your heat. They meet no resistance, sliding in and out with complete ease from the way your body has been preparing yourself for this for the last five hours. You throw your head back, mouth falling open at the relief you feel from finally having something fill you, cunt clenching in appreciation. The sounds your body makes are disgusting, copious amounts of slick being sloshed around by Kylo’s fingers. It’s wet and depraved and nasty and you’re enjoying every moment of it. He uses his thumb against your clit, rubbing back and forth and nearly making you scream. That combined with his mouth altering between the glands on either side of your neck makes it very easy for you to cum. Your body seizes, muscles constricting as pleasure wracks your body.
You can feel part of that fire within you finally die down, but it’s still not enough. There’s still an ache nestled deep inside you that his fingers can’t help with. “Please! Alpha, please, more..” you cry, grabbing at his arm to try and pull him up, to make him give you what you want so badly. You need his cock, the thing red and begging for attention, standing tall against his abdomen and dribbling precum.
His fingers withdraw from the warmth of your cunt and it makes you wince and whimper at the loss, your legs immediately trying to close and rub together in an attempt to get some friction. “What a desperate thing you are.” Kylo mutters, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth and running his tongue along them to gather your slick. You’ve seen him do this countless times but it still has your face blushing furiously. He hums his delight. “Delicious, as always.”
He gets his hand under your back, scooping you up and flipping you onto your stomach. He tugs you towards him harshly, repositioning you like a doll so your ass is in the air, your face pressed against the materials of the nest. Kylo’s scent overwhelms your nostrils, heady and aroused. A mixture of slick and cum oozes from you, dripping down the lips of your cunt and your clit and onto the bed below. You wiggle your lower half, trying to entice him. “Please… need you..” you say, voice muffled by the pillow you’re currently hiding your face in.
Kylo’s hands run from your breasts, down your sides, and settle on your hips, the rough texture of his callouses making you shiver. “My beautiful mate.” He whispers, enthralled by your body as his eyes trace over it. The head of his cock prods at your entrance and you suck in your breath. You nearly sob as he sinks to the hilt inside your cunt not even a second after, your nails digging into the blankets below you from how full you feel. Kylo stretches you to your limit, getting so deep into you it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. He sighs in relief, his massive body bending over yours so his forehead rests against your shoulder. His chest is so warm against your back, his big muscled arms braced on either side of you. You’re basically caged in and pinned down, completely at his mercy. You couldn’t be happier. Your omega keens at the attention, at your alpha displaying his complete dominance over you.
His first thrust is bliss—sliding out of you almost entirely before slamming back in, his pelvis pressed sharply against your ass. He does it again, and again, getting steadily faster with each one until he’s built up a steady rhythm that has your entire being shaking with the power of it beneath him. Your mouth hangs open, drool falling from your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head. His grunts and groans and rumbles fill your ears, your own moans rising to meet them. He presses his lips against the gland that bears your bite mark, breathing you in again and moaning. “My mate, my mate,” he says reverently along your skin, “fuck- m’gonna fill you so good. You’ll give me pups, won’t you? You’ll make me a strong heir.”
“Yes! Yes, anything!” You wail. To your heat addled mind, nothing sounds better. Nothing sounds better than him filling you so full of his cum that there’s no way you don’t get pregnant. You want him so deep that he gets directly to your womb. You want to satisfy your alpha, you want to show him how obedient you are. Yes, you’ll do whatever he wants.
“My good girl.” Kylo praises, sucking your gland into his mouth and making you scream from the pleasure. It’s so shockingly intimate, warmth blooming in your chest and spreading along your body. He’s always been obsessed with your glands, even before you were mated. Your scent brings him so much comfort, such a feeling of home that he can’t stay away. He has his nose buried in the crook of your neck whenever he can and he it turns him on when he’s able to get his tongue on them. Your scent sticks to the roof of his mouth, it becomes the only thing he knows, the only thing he can taste. He fucking loves it.
“So good, sweetheart.” He gasps, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair. He watches where his cock disappears into your cunt, entranced. “Needed to fuck you so bad..”
If your brain wasn’t pure mush right now, you’d agree with him. But you can’t think with the way his cock is splitting you open, each thrust piercing your cunt and hitting that spot right at the top that seems impossible to reach without him. It makes it feel like lightning is igniting your blood, your vision flashing white. You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping the blankets until his large hand perfectly eclipses yours, his fingers slipping between your own so you hold on to him instead.
You hear his growl by your ear as his thrusts become more erratic, knowing he’s getting close. His free hand reaches under you to your clit, fingers playing with it roughly. He’s going to make sure you go along with him. You jerk from the added stimulation bordering on overstimulation from the constant pounding of his cock and the sensitivity from you already cumming once. Your moans get louder and louder, punctuated by each thrust he gives you, breaking in the middle and becoming more high pitched than usual. Your breath is pushed from your lungs, the pillow beneath you is soaked in drool.
“Mmn, shit-“ Kylo groans. He sounds drunk when he talks, his words slurred by his rut and pleasure. “Gonna give you pups. M’gonna knot you, you’ll be so good. My perfect mate.”
Yes, yes that sounds like everything you could ever want. “Please, please! Please alpha I need you-“ you beg, finally finding some semblance of your voice. “I need your knot!”
Kylo grunts his acknowledgment, his thrusts picking up the pace as he teeters on the edge. Then you feel it. Swelling begins at the base of his cock, steadily getting bigger. His movements are forced to slow along with it, becoming more and more restricted as his knot grows. Just as you feel like he’s stretched you to the brink, he lowers his head and sinks his teeth into your bonding mark. You scream. You scream so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if someone walking by outside your rooms heard you. Your vision is pure white, you feel like you can’t breathe, and you feel such a deep connection to Kylo in that moment that it pushes you over the edge. You cum harshly around his cock and his knot, cunt spasming. He cums at that same moment, hot ropes of his seed coating your walls white and his knot plugging your hole to keep it all in.
Neither of you move for a good minute because quite frankly, you’re not able to. The aftershocks are enough to keep you frozen, simply panting and trying to catch your breath. Your entire body is buzzing with pleasure and it feels like you’re floating in the clouds. Kylo is the one to come-to first, getting his arms under you to flip you both on your sides so that he’s spooning you, chest pressed firmly against your back and his big body practically engulfing you. The movement jostles his knot and makes more cum spurt from his cock and it sounds like he chokes on his breath.
He sighs, kissing the back of your neck before shifting his attention to your bond mark. Kylo’s tongue runs over it soothingly, almost like an apology for biting you. He just felt the primal need in him to refresh the mark, to let anyone else know that you belong to him. With the way you’re absolutely covered head to toe in his scent, you think everyone across the galaxy will know. “You okay?” He murmurs once he’s satisfied.
You nod, even though it feels like too much work. “Mhm.” You’re exhausted. Your heat was completely fucked out of you… for now at least. You know it’ll come back in an hour or two, ready for the same thing all over again. At least your alpha will be with you this time.
“You did so good, sweetheart.” Kylo says, his voice so full of love and adoration for you. He kisses along your jaw to the back of your ear. “My sweet omega.” You love his praise, you love the moments after when he’s so soft and gentle with you. It makes you feel so safe and happy, like you have everything you could ever ask for. And you do, really, because he’s so willing to get you anything, to provide you with everything.
He’s quiet for a moment before kissing your gland again. You can tell something was bothering him. “Never should’ve let you go on that mission.” He mutters, anger biting at his tone. “I should’ve known it was too close.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect it either.” You say, taking his hand that had been wrapped around your waist into your own. “It’s fine now.”
“I could feel when you were going into heat,” he continues, burying his face in your neck to remind himself that you’re here, “I could feel it and I wasn’t there… it drove me fucking insane. I needed to get to you.”
You can only imagine how it affected him, sensing you across the galaxy and being so incapable of helping you at all. You get glimpses of those past emotions through your bond; how angry he was, how agitated and scared. He’s far more attuned to the Force than you are, so it was much easier for him to connect to you than it was for you to connect to him. He had to just stand back while you suffered.
“Kylo, it’s okay.” You murmur again, bringing the back of his hand to your lips to break him from his thoughts. “I’m here now. You took care of me so well. You built such a good nest.”
That seems to calm him down. “I did? I just threw what I could on to the bed.”
You nod. “It’s far better than what I had in that ship.” You nuzzle into the soft materials. “Good for pups.” Just the mention has his cock throbbing inside you and pushing out more cum, as if making sure that that actually happens. You both groan.
Once he’s done, you sigh contentedly and look around. “Though… maybe just a few things could be fixed.” You say, reaching out to fix said things as you do. They’d been bothering that primal part of you that enjoys the nesting for a while. A pillow was just a bit out of a place, a blanket wasn’t fluffed up enough by just a tad, and one of his capes was just slightly askew. It makes you feel kind of crazy, but it puts your mind at ease. The whole thing has Kylo chuckling.
He brushes hair back from your face. “You should rest while you can.” He orders. “You’ll need it.”
You’re already starting to feel drowsy again, so you can’t even argue. The low, rumbling purr that’s started in Kylo’s chest adds to it. It’s such a soothing sound—just like a cat’s purr, instantly making your body relax against him. You can feel the vibrations from it reverberated in your back. You curl up as best you can in his hold with his knot still in you, his strong arms secure around your middle. There’s no need for a blanket because Kylo keeps you plenty warm—he’s like your own personal heater.
Laying there in your big, comfy nest with your alpha holding you close and his scent all around you, with your heat finally satiated… it’s so, so easy to fall asleep.
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wolvietxt · 4 days
Text
𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌!
pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : reader has the nightmare, logan doesn’t know much about reader’s past, trauma flashbacks, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k
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the air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. sleep should’ve been a sanctuary, a place where you could shut down the world and find some peace, but tonight... it was anything but peaceful. the soft hum of the night outside didn’t penetrate the tension. the bed felt like a trap, the sheets twisted around your legs, tightening like they wanted to hold you down.
you jolted awake, gasping. the world felt too real, too solid, and you couldn’t quite shake the vividness of the nightmare clinging to your mind. your chest heaved as you tried to ground yourself, pressing your hands into the mattress, but the fear and memories were still clawing at you.
you were back there - in the past. hands bound, eyes wide open, watching everything but being unable to do a thing. the missions, the screams, the people you’d hurt... it all replayed in slow motion, burning through your mind like it had never really left.
logan stirred beside you, his body instinctively shifting when he felt your movements. he was a heavy sleeper in some ways, but when it came to you, the smallest sign of distress was enough to get his attention. his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer, his chest pressed against your back. normally, the warmth would be enough to calm you, but tonight you felt like you were drowning in the heat, unable to escape the memories.
“what’s wrong?” logan’s voice was a gravelly whisper, heavy with sleep but alert. his lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke, his breath warm on your skin. “bad dream?”
you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. the words felt too heavy, too tangled up in the nightmare. your hands were trembling, and it was only when you realised how tight your grip was on the sheets that you forced yourself to let go.
“yeah,” you finally whispered, voice barely audible. “just a nightmare.”
he didn’t ask for more, didn’t press you. logan wasn’t the type to demand explanations. instead, he shifted so he could pull you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. the weight of him against your back, the solid feel of him, was grounding in a way that nothing else could be.
“you’re safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “nothin’s gonna hurt you. i won’t let it.”
the words should’ve been enough. they always had been before, but tonight they weren’t. not because you didn’t believe him - logan would go through hell to protect you - but because the danger wasn’t outside. it was inside you, trapped in your head, a part of the past that wouldn’t let go.
you swallowed hard, your throat tight, and turned to face him. his eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but there was a sharpness there, a readiness to do whatever needed to be done if it meant you’d be okay.
“it’s... it’s not about right now,” you started, your voice shaky. “it’s the past. stuff i... i can’t forget.”
logan’s brow furrowed, his thumb brushing absently over your shoulder. he didn’t say anything, just waited. the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable, the kind of silence that meant he was listening. that he’d listen for as long as you needed, without judgment.
you drew in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the memories were still fresh in your mind, too close to ignore.
“i keep dreaming about them,” you admitted, your voice quieter than before. “the missions. the people. what i did before... before you.”
logan didn’t react right away, but his hold on you tightened slightly. his jaw clenched, and you could tell he hated that you were still haunted by that part of your life. but he didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell you to stop talking. he just let you get it out.
“i try to let it go. i try to move past it, but it’s like every time i close my eyes, i’m back there. doing things i can’t take back.”
you hated how raw your voice sounded, hated that those memories still held power over you. but more than anything, you hated that even now, after all this time, they could still make you feel like you were drowning.
logan’s hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, gentle strokes. his eyes were dark, filled with an understanding that came from his own history, his own pain. you weren’t alone in that, not with him. logan had his own ghosts, his own past that bled into the present in ways he couldn’t always control.
“you did what you had to do,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you survived. and that’s what matters.”
you shook your head, pulling back slightly. “but it doesn’t change what i did.”
“no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “but you ain’t the same person anymore. you got out. you’re here. with me.”
he said it like it was simple, like the fact that you were with him was enough to erase everything else. and in a way, maybe it was. logan had a way of grounding you, of pulling you back from the edge of your own mind. he wasn’t one for long speeches or trying to fix things with words. he just... existed with you in the moment. and that was what you needed.
you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make a big deal of it. but logan saw. he always saw.
his hand caught yours, stopping you from brushing away the rest of the tears. he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath steady and calming, like an anchor. “you don’t gotta be strong all the time. not with me.”
that did it. the dam broke. you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, no longer fighting to hold them back. logan didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. he just held you, his arms solid and strong, letting you release the weight of everything you’d been carrying.
the room was quiet except for your breathing, the soft sounds of your sobs fading as the minutes passed. it wasn’t a loud cry, nothing dramatic. just a release, like the pressure had finally built too high, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.
logan held you until your breathing evened out, until the tears dried up and you were left feeling hollow but lighter. his hand kept a steady rhythm on your back, rubbing slow, calming circles.
“you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before, almost a whisper.
you nodded, your head still pressed against his chest. you felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the slow, calming beat of his heart. it was enough to pull you fully back into the present, away from the nightmare.
“i’m okay,” you whispered, even though you didn’t quite believe it. but you would be. with logan, you always ended up okay.
he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there, warm and steady. “good. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be stuck in the past. not when you’ve come this far.”
you closed your eyes again, but this time, there was no nightmare waiting for you. just the warmth of logan’s arms, the steady sound of his breathing, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.
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sovasleepy · 3 months
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jealousy (valorant x reader)
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[ chamber, gekko, sova, omen x gn!reader ] — in which valorant men get a little jealous
tw: jealous and a little overprotectiveness but they’re (mostly) healthy about it. a little cursing for some flavor. random guy flirts with you in chamber's but hes not creepy about it. different guy is also creepy in omen's but its not talked about in detail. chamber makes a sexual joke in his.
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CHAMBER ━━━
hot take: he’s so protective at all times idc idc
but he hides it so so well
he’s absolutely enamored by you, there’s no denying that. that’s only half the reason why he tries to show you off so much though
the other reason is because that means he is showing you off as his. he’s staking his claim on you in his own odd little way, but it works and neither of you mind it too much
━━━━━━
“are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look weird?” you asked, tugging at the material.
as much as you loved it, you couldn’t quite tell me if it was ‘you.’ you stepped out of the changing room of the store you were in and into the hallway, where chamber sat patiently waiting. he loved a fashion show if it was yours, after all.
he pretended to inspect it thoroughly, leaning forward in his chair and narrowing his eyes.
before he could answer, however, a different voice sounded out. it came from the door next to yours, where a different man had walked into the hallway to look at his own clothes.
“it looks good,” he spoke, smirk creeping its way onto his face. “but i imagine you’d look good in anything, huh?”
both you and chamber sat still and quiet for a few beats, as if registering what had just happened. the line was well delivered, but seriously? could he not tell that you were with chamber?
“well,” chamber spoke loudly. “they do look good in anything. and in nothing. we could see how you look when the shirt is on our bedroom floor, how’s that, ma cheri?”
you attempted to ignore the warmth that rose in your face, but failed. again, you were stunned. the opposing man blanched and retreated back to his changing room, where he quickly shut the door.
“come now, love. i think a thousand dollars in one shopping trip is enough, no? or should we stop by one more store?” chamber was overly loud once again.
and lying through his teeth, as well — you’d come to retrieve a single shirt for an event. that said, you couldn’t help but laugh as the occupant of changing room next to yours fumbled over himself, apparently knocked something down, and released a string of curses.
he didn’t have to know chamber was lying, and you didn’t have to know chamber was lying because he knew he’d earn a laugh from you.
GEKKO ━━━
gekko has like. a normal amount of jealousy?
he’ll bite back the small senses of it whenever you’re giving another guy a little more attention that he would like you to
or he’ll politely explain to you that he doesn’t really like you doing something because of how it makes him feel and you’ll talk it through
not because he doesn’t trust you, he just needs that extra little reassurance
if you’re willing to give up doing something to give him that peace of mind? all the better. if not? he can work on it, no questions asked.
overall 10/10 v good communication skills i love him
━━━━━━
you could tell that gekko was uneasy. from the way his nails picked at his fingers and the constant bouncing of his knee, to the avoidance of eye contact and the way his speech was quiet and mumbled, gekko’s demeanor screamed something was wrong.
you watched him carefully as you sat back down at the table. again, his eyes didn’t move from the place they were locked onto.
a few moments passed as you thought of what could have been wrong. the two of you were at some company party, with loud music coming through the speakers and an unholy amount of people piled into the room. everyone was dressed formally in either dresses or suits, their makeup done perfectly and not a hair out of place.
maybe that’s what was wrong. perhaps the music was too loud or his suit was too tight.
“mateo?” you had to yell over the music, despite wanting your voice to be soft as you spoke to him.
he finally looked up to you, soft eyes scanning your face. he didn’t speak, but he hummed to acknowledge you audibly.
“is everything alright? you seem a little off.”
the question seemed to stun him for a few moments as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked back down to the table. after a deep breath, he finally answered. “i just felt a little… i dunno. saying i was jealous feels a little funny, but there was this guy earlier you were talking to? he was kinda tall, darker hair. and uh- anyway, you went to grab a drink and he seemed to be really funny i guess. you didn’t stop laughing the entire time you were talking and before you left he kissed your cheek.”
you thought about it for a second, trying to recall the interaction, before you let out something like a laugh.
“he’s from mexico, he told me it was a common thing there? i dunno. i’ve known him since i joined the protocol.” you said, smiling at him. “it’s nothing, but if you don’t like it i’ll tell him next time. i highly doubt there’s gonna be any hard feelings about it on his end. is that alright?”
he nodded, sending you a soft smile. his face had relaxed significantly in the past few minutes. "thank you, amor."
SOVA ━━━
he rarely gets jealous,, he thinks
he has a hard time exactly placing the emotion, and it’s mostly shrouded in protectiveness more than anything
he loves you, he knows you love him, and there is not a doubt that trickles into his mind
…..for the most part, anyway
there is the occasional time when that warmth spreads in his chest and the overwhelming urge to take you under his wing spawns, only to realize you aren’t in any danger
so why does he feel the need to protect you?
━━━━━━
sova had never had any ill-will toward phoenix. the two of them weren't particularly close, but they had worked and lived together for long enough that they were closer than one might expect.
maybe thats why sova agreed to play games with he and a few others the other night. they played stupid ice-breaker games, despite mostly having known each other for years. a few embarrassing stories of his friends' youth were shared, including the time jett ate brownies without knowing weed was baked in, and the time raze got caught sneaking out in her teens.
at some point, sova was asked who he had feelings for. it was the late hours of the night, and you had long since passed out on the couch next to him. he'll never figure out how you slept through the laughing and talking, but you did. without saying a word, sova had smiled softly and nodded over to you.
there were a few gasps, and then there was the laughing and cheering of a few others. phoenix held out his hand, to which jett passed him twenty bucks with a disgrunted face. evidently, they had had a bet about his feelings.
little did he know that telling them--phoenix, in particular--about his feelings toward you would go on to be one of the worst decisions he could have made.
ever since that night, phoenix had made it his goal to flirt with you as much as he possibly could when sova was around. he would send the russian a wink and a smile after every interaction with you, driving the stake deeper. though you thought he was just being friendly and joking around, the interactions never failed to spark a sick feeling in his gut.
and currently, he was almost at his limit.
he was normally fairly calm, but his patience with phoenix had been run thin over the past few weeks and the interaction between you two was getting a little too close for his comfort. not that he had some sort of claim over you; you weren't dating, so why did he have this feeling?
"could you hand me my water?" you asked from your spot on the couch. you gestured to the bottle of water placed in front of phoenix, who was sitting beside you.
he watched as phoenix took your hand and brought it gently up to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. "anything for you, my love." his voice was dripping with sultry as he spoke.
in a few quick steps, sova got up and grabbed the bottle before phoenix could. he stepped around the coffee table and handed you the bottle, sending a glare over to phoenix when he stepped away. the other man raised his hands in mock defense and leaned back into the couch. with a sly smile, he positioned his arm around the back of the couch and pulled you into his side. you laughed, but didn't push away.
"ok, fine." sova finally spoke. he had been glaring daggers at you and phoenix for the better part of two hours, and you couldn't figure out why. "what the hell is it for, phoenix? why are you doing this?"
you leaned up from where you were leaned against the man in question. "doing what?"
phoenix smiled impossibly wider and leaned forward. "yeah, doing what?"
sova grumbled. he huffed and took a moment to collect himself. "leave, y/n." he looked at you and his eyes softened. "please."
despite the look he sent you, you weren't leaving. you crossed your arms in defiance and glared. phoenix's hand came up to rub your back.
"that!" sova finally spoke again. this wasn't how he wanted to confess to you, but so be it. "i told you weeks ago that i had feelings for y/n and you have since made it your life's mission to flirt with them. you don't have the same feelings for them, so why? what do you gain?"
phoenix, painfully calmly, got up and walked to the other side of the room. "for one, you finally confessed. don't have to deal with your 'longing gazes' anymore. secondly, jett now owes me twenty more bucks."
OMEN ━━━
omen would like to pride himself in the fact that he was rarely jealous.
insecure? sure. a little self-depreciating? of course.
but jealous just wasn’t him. as much as he was dissatisfied with himself, he had full trust in you.
however, that didn’t stop the rare inkling of a feeling that you truly would be better off with someone else, especially when they flirt, and even more so when you don’t notice
━━━━━━
one more time. that was all it was going to take.
just one more time for that guy to slide his hand up your arm, one more stupid joke to roll off of his tongue, one more laugh from you. omen knew he didn't exactly initiate physical touch all that often, but that doesn't mean he dislikes it. he would kill right now to have that be him, for you to be so close to him, for you to be laughing at his every word like you were laughing at that guy's.
he had told you that he would come with you to grab some supplies. a kingdom worker had been at the facility at the time, however, and the two of you seemed to be getting along perfectly well. to hell with the company you had asked from omen, he supposes.
and of course there it was again, his arm coming up to rest gently on your back as he guided you down another hallway. omen was a few steps behind the two of you, not that either one of you seemed to be paying him any mind.
fine. he could go back to his room.
his disappeared into a cloud of smoke, materializing again in the darkness of his own room. the events of the last thirty or so minutes replayed in his mind, a taunting loop of your smile as you looked at the man responsible for it. its not that he hated seeing you smile -- he loved it. but it was a different thing entirely when you smiled so big because of a man he could never be. maybe in another life, but not now.
the thoughts swirled in his head for what felt like hours. it was likely barely half an hour in reality, being that it took fifteen minutes alone to get up to his room from where the two of you had been before and likely another few to finish your work.
finally, a knock on the door of his room regained his attention.
"come in." he spoke, not looking away from the ceiling tile he'd been fixed on.
"what the hell is wrong with you?" you asked, clearly angry.
the phantom sat up, looking over to you incredulously. "what?"
"why the hell would you leave?"
"wasn't interested in watching him flirt with you." he was curt, as always.
"oh, yeah," you said dramatically. you were walking over to him now, standing in front of him. "because i was enjoying it so much. loved it even more when my boyfriend got tired and left me alone with him."
oh. that makes more sense than you blatantly hitting on him in front of your own boyfriend.
"really? sure seemed to find him so funny."
"because what am i supposed to do? tell him that he's not funny and to shut up?"
"you could have told him not to touch you."
"i did! and you didn't see me brushing his hand away and walking faster so he wouldn't rest his hand on my back? or were you too busy wallowing?"
the reality of this set in on him suddenly. he really had been too caught up in his own mind to realize what was happening. he had left you in an uncomfortable situation all because he was too stubborn to listen to what was actually happening.
"i'm sorry." he finally spoke.
"its okay," you sighed, and crawled your way into his bed. "i'll file a report or something later. we deserve a nap."
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littlebabyyd0ll · 1 year
Text
KINKTOBER DAY SEVEN, SIZE KINK
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His heart beats for you, sweet little you, and his head goes wild for your tiny little hole.
Daddy!Ari x Smaller!reader
Warnings: SIZE KINK! Reader is described to be vv small & short. Stomach bulge from Ari’s monster cock. Kinda crybaby reader, lots of dirty talk. Dacryphilia. Not proofread.
18+! Enjoy!
Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023
It’s hard to think, hard to breathe when you feel so full. You feel like you’re choking on him, inhaling him, and he thinks it’s funny. He’s chuckling as tears fill your waterline and splash onto your cheeks. 
He’s rough and burly, so big as he crowds himself over your little form. “Is it too much, honey? You’re crying, poor girl, you can’t take daddy?” 
You can, you know you can, because you are right now. Ari moves a little softer at the sight of your running tears, and he mocks your little pout. You can’t help it — he’s just so big, fills you so well, your little hole stretched out over his hard cock. There’s not much more spreading that your legs can do, trying to accommodate the width of his waist within them. God, he’s such a monster, and it doesn’t help how tiny you already are. 
“I can!” You protest with a sniffle, brows creased together unhappily. It only makes him laugh more.
That makes it all the more worse, especially when you can feel his cock twitch inside you. 
You whine, pushing your wet face into the creased pillows beside you. 
“I know you can.” He mumbles pitifully, finally taking a break from his mean teasing. One of his big, calloused hands makes it’s way up your twitching body until it winds itself around the back of your neck, fingertips brushing your hair at the nape of your neck. “Always take me so well, huh? Prettiest fuckin’ girl with the,” he breaks, a grunt as you look at him with those teary bambi eyes, “tightest little hole.” 
“Daddy,” you cry, tiny hands pushing against his hairy chest as he picks up the speed of his thrusts. Deep within your hazy mind you notice how pretty your manicured nails look against him, a treat that he paid for monthly. Ari groans again at your broken whine, leaning down to plant hot kisses against your wet cheeks. 
He’s never loved anything as much as he’s loved you. 
Angelface you, who fell off your bike in front of his driveway. He had been out the front, sweating profusely as he pushed the mower against the overgrown grass – he’d only just moved in to the massive place, inherited it from some uncle he never even met. He can still remember catching your eye as you peddled past, the way that you had been far too distracted looking at his chest, the way that you toppled over into one of his bushes. 
He was enamoured the moment that he first touched you.
Being the natural savour that he is, he jumped straight away to save you. His big hands wrapped under your arms and lifted you effortlessly from the crumple of limbs that you had ended up as. And when he set you on your shaky feet, that was when he realised just how fucking little you were. 
The top of your head reached around the bottom of his pecks, leaves wound into your locks. You tried to stable yourself against him, the tiniest of hands splayed out against his stomach. He can remember the way that your big watery eyes had looked up at him, apologising excessively and trying to ignore the throbbing, bruising pain. He can remember the feeling of fullness overtaking him, forcing him to reach out for you, to try his very hardest to win over your heart. The same feeling stays with him now, the need to protect you, baby you, keep you for himself. 
So tiny and helpless. 
His hips stutter as he looks down and lets out a long winded moan, something that would surely have the neighbours concerned and stray cats replying to the call. 
“Look, baby. Look at how good you take daddy.” He’s not teasing anymore, instead moving your limp head to face downwards. Your vision is blurry from the tears, but you blink fast to try and clear your vision. Then you see it, the thing that makes his hindbrain cry out and push his hips faster. 
There, at the very bottom of your tummy, is a slight bulge, appearing and disappearing with every stroke he gives. He’s so big, just massive, a juggernaut. You're so tiny, look like some sort of pixie next to him. The hotness of the sight has your eyes rolling and a choked whine filling the air, matching the rough slapping of skin upon skin, and the echo of your slick. 
Ari laughs again, pushing a warm hand against the moving bulge. “Is that daddy all up in your guts, huh? M’fucking ruining you, kitten. Does daddy feel good? Can feel you clenching, tightest little hole.” He’s getting just as close as you are, he always gets blubbery and breathy when he gets close to cumming. “Best I ever had, you know that? Best fuckin’ girl. You're my girl, baby. Tell daddy you're his girl.”
Your tears are worse now, but you will always give him what he needs. “I-I’m your girl, daddy. Always your girl -ah!- please, please.” Your breathing is rough and troubled. Your hand pushes against him, but all your pussy does is pull him in deeper. “S-So big. I can’t– M’gonna come.”
“Fuck. Sweetest girl. Make the cutest little mess. Come for me, angel. I got you. Daddy’s got you.”
It’s white hot, the pleasure. It grabs you and swallows you whole, has you shaking and creaming all over his cock. Your squeaks and whines are enough to push him to the edge too, and Ari pulls your tiny frame into a bear hug as he paints your rippling walls white. Ari shudders with you. Mouthing at your jaw, his warmth completely encompasses you. The gentle giant is so good to you, shushing your tired cries as he slips out of your wet cunt, thumbing away the tears at your cheeks. He keeps you there, small and tucked away, like his own little secret, like something fragile and tiny, like his most precious of keepsakes. 
Like his sweetest little girl.
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kotoku · 5 months
Note
Hiii~
Can I request aventurine and Dr ratio (separately or together ur choice) with klee reader
Maybe Sunday too?
I just want chaos to unfold-
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Take care ☺️
ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋʟᴇᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
pairings - sunday & klee! reader / aventurine & klee! reader / dr ratio & klee! reader
content - reader is gender-neutral/ klee! reader/ platonic relationships/ familial relationships/ chaos
warnings - a bit of angst (?), might be ooc i'm sorry guys T_T
⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙
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↻ Whether you met Sunday because you’ve been unknowingly stirring up trouble in the dreamscapes or you met him by chance, he’d be a bit worried and concerned about a child roaming alone in Penacony
↺ He may or may not slowly adopt you into his routine as he always finds himself being greeted by you on the streets of Penacony (or called by a family member because mayhem has been occurring in certain parts of the dreamscapes)
↺ Gazing upon the damage you had done in the dreamscape as you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, he couldn’t be upset with you but rather surprised by how much power this unknown child has
↻ Sunday would be a lot like Jean, but he’d be a little more lenient when it comes to you
↺ He’d probably have a small area/room that’s your designated play area whenever you’re with him and sometimes he’d have to give you a time-out for blowing up something in the dreamscape
↺ Said time out wouldn’t last long as he’d feel guilty looking at your saddened state
↻ Sometimes whenever the other family members had a meeting with Sunday, they would see you playing around with your favorite stuffed animal but wouldn’t dare question your presence (you had quite the reputation for being.. explosive…)
↻ I think when it comes to each character with a Klee! Reader, they’d have those animal backpacks with the leash attached to it just because you’re so chaotic
↺ One moment they would be walking with you and then the next you’ve run off to somewhere that caught your attention
↺ For Sunday’s mental well-being, he got you this backpack to help him keep an eye on you whenever you were distracted
↻ As I mentioned in previous posts, Sunday, whenever he’s anxious or worried for you, would pace around his office with his feathers just puffing up and some of them popping right off due to his stress
↺ When you are found safe and sound, he’d give you a tight hug and you’d start playing with the feathers that were scattered on the ground
↺ He’s.. amused by it
↻ Honestly, Sunday had no idea what to do with you as you were found to be alone and it didn’t seem like you knew any of your family members (Just going to ignore Albedo and Klee’s mother for my sake…)
↺ Eventually, he warmed up to you a lot and considers you his little sister, which Robin also adores having around
↻ Sunday would be very protective of you but a little.. nervous about your abilities, he knew to an extent you were capable of handling things yourself
↺ But you are still a child so he’s extra cautious about the dangers in the dreamscapes and makes sure that you don’t get into trouble
↺ Otherwise, he’d have to confiscate your bombs.. which he really didn’t want to do because then you’d be super upset
↺ He tried to confiscate them one time but that ended up with you ignoring him for the remainder of the day and you were sulking in your playroom
↻ Sunday, during the Charmony Festival, would keep a very close eye on you because of what has been going on within Penacony
↺ He’ll keep you in his line of sight at all times, whether it’s him personally accompanying you around or having you sit near him in his conference room, he wouldn’t want you wandering too far off
↺ You’d find Sunday mumbling to himself while looking at some documents, but you never really understood them so you always stuck to what you were doing
↻ Sunday is very fond of you, and he’d do anything to ensure your safety
-----
Sunday was seated at his conference table, hand holding his chin in thought as he scanned through the multitude of documents. He carefully looked them over and over again, thoroughly reading through the letters written by a family member he assigned an assignment to. 
With the Charmony Festival coming in full swing, Sunday wanted to make sure that things would run as smoothly as possible, despite the growing concern that was nagging him from the depths of his consciousness. He couldn’t afford to become distracted…
That is what he thought, but yet he still found himself engaging in your little antics. Although things were growing busier and busier by the day, he wanted to ensure that you were alright and safe, playing a couple of your games when you pleaded for him to stay. He didn’t find the idea of playing with bombs safe, but if it was what made you happy, then your wish was his command.
As he stood up to roam the halls of his mansion, he gazed out into the open through the grand windows, a million thoughts racing through his mind. The future of Penacony contained countless outcomes and he could only grow restless every time he thought of it. But having you around to distract him from his worries with your silly antics, even if for just a fleeting moment, made him feel as if everything was going to be alright…
He would make sure of that.
-----
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↻ Aventurine would also find your chaotic nature interesting, in fact, he might even indulge in it by taking a role in your little schemes
↺ He’d be a little concerned when you go a bit too far with your bombs and antics, so he’d try nudging you into a not-so-concerning situation
↻ Aventurine would find you when you got into a little scuffle with his subordinates, somehow destroying some IPC property and getting an earful from his coworkers
↺ Those IPC grunts would be terrified of you if they saw what you could do, especially because you’re a CHILD playing with BOMBS (They’re seriously concerned about who raised you and why you are the way you are.. or how you even managed to have bombs on you??)
↻ He’d send them off to go do something else (or to go bother someone else..) and bend down to your level to ask about your guardians or caregiver
↺ When you are confused about what he is talking about, his concern would only grow before he’d take you to find a trusted person to watch over you as he was busy with an assignment
↺ However, he would only come back to find that you escaped a worker’s watchful gaze and were playing with that bomb toy you had on you (Docodo? Cododo?? Whatever you said its name was…)
↻ When Aventurine hangs around you a little more during his free time (whether he’s done with work or doesn’t feel up to gambling), inquiring about the little fella you had on you and about your background
↺ He’d kind of take you under his wing from there on out, having you accompany him on missions if he determined they weren’t dangerous and were minor assignments
↺ Topaz would find it surprising seeing him around with a little kid, she’d even be wary about his intentions with you as he had suddenly popped up with a small kid out of nowhere
↺ She’d introduce you to Numby who, to your delight, would play and spend a bit of time with you
↻ Sometimes you’d accompany Aventurine on his casino trips, but he’d try leaving you out of them as it wasn’t really a kid-friendly setting
↺ So sometimes you’d in up in a more appropriate setting like a small daycare where you were safe (yet you’d sometimes pop up next to him in a game and catch him off guard)
↻ Aventurine, as someone with a lot of money to freely spend, would spoil you with a variety of things that he’d think you would like
↺ You aren’t necessarily a spoiled child, but he’d still get you the things that have caught your interest, whether you voice what you liked or not
↻ When he passes by a shop that has a showcase of kid backpacks, he would see one with a plush animal and a leash and he’d automatically get it for you 
↺ You wouldn’t really care about the leash part as you’re too distracted by the cute plush animal backpack, so it really was no problem for Aventurine
↺ He’d be walking around the IPC’s headquarters or Penacony with the backpack leash in his hand, you following him yet straying whenever you saw something
↺ He’d have to give the leash a small tug to make sure you weren’t wandering too far off though
↻ If you did something dangerous such as blowing up something that belongs to the IPC, Aventurine would vouch for you, becoming your partner in crime (Him sending a sly wink your way as you giggle innocently, hands covering your mouth to stifle your laughter) 
↺ Topaz would be the one scolding you before Aventurine tries defending your honor, but then he’d end up getting scolded by her too
↻ Aventurine would try his best to protect your innocence, not wanting you to see the dangers that linger on the different worlds he ends up on or what may invade the IPC’s headquarters
↺ He’s seen and witnessed firsthand hand of losing his innocence at a young age, those memories of his past still haunt him to this day and he doesn’t want you living with the same burden so he tries his best to protect you from danger (even if you’re somewhat capable of protecting yourself)
-----
“_____, did you destroy a piece of the IPC’s belongings again!?” Topaz asked, a stern look on her face as you stood there innocently with your hands tucked behind your back. 
“No… I didn’t do anything I swear! You can even ask Dodoco!” You answered, shoving Dodoco out in front of you as if to emphasize your statement. Topaz sighed, shaking her head.
“_____… I know you want to play around but sometimes you need to be careful of where you are. You could get hurt or, well.. damage things that aren’t yours.” Crossing her arms, Topaz looked at you with a softer gaze. You persisted in your stance. 
“But I swear! I didn’t do it!” You cried out, holding Dodoco closer to your chest. “Y-you can even ask Mr. Aventurine!”
“I heard my name?” Aventurine slinked to the spot right next to you, giving Topaz a questioning yet sly look. Topaz couldn’t help but groan when he popped up next to you, feeling as if she was on the verge of being teamed up against. 
“Mr. Aventurine! Please tell Miss Topaz that I wasn’t the one who blew up some of the IPC’s equipment!” You begged, tugging at his coat as he looked down at you with his cat-like eyes. 
He gave you a closed-eyed smile, patting the top of your head. “Is that what’s going on? Well, I have unfortunate news for you Topaz, as little _____ here was busy helping me out with an assignment.” Aventurine had a smug smile on his face as if to tease Topaz and tick her off, which worked.
Topaz, rolling her eyes, heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, I believe you, _____. You can go run off and play now.” 
With a joyful smile on your face and a cheer, you thanked Topaz before turning to thank Aventurine, bowing slightly with a quiet giggle.
“Thank you Mr. Aventurine! Promise we’ll play next time?” 
“I promise, _____. Now go play with Dodoco in your room, okay? I’ll check up on you later when I’m done with work.” 
“Okay!” 
-----
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↻ Dr Ratio wasn’t necessarily fond of children…
↺ He understood that they weren’t the brightest of stars, but he could barely handle some of the behaviors they exhibited
↺ I imagine he’d be so disgusted because of how kids can be known for doing the weirdest stuff… (Picking their boogers, touching a variety of items, being unsanitary... the list goes on)
↻ When he meets you for the first time, he’s curious about the construction of your bombs and how you were able to make them
↺ To his disappointment, you are only able to draw crude drawings of the construction of your bombs and poorly explain how you built them
↺ He takes it upon himself to sample one of your bombs to see what they’re made of and how they’re made
↻ You’d invite him (more like drag him) to help you create and play with your bombs and he’d reluctantly follow you to where your room is
↺ Aventurine walking in on you playing dolls (or your bombs) with Ratio
-----
“How are you doing?”
“Mister Ratio, say it in your girl voice.”
“Sigh… How you doin’? 💅”
*Aventurine laughing before Ratio throws the doll he’s holding at him*
-----
↻ Ratio, knowing him, would tutor you if you went to a daycare or school, helping you understand your homework and teaching you about different subjects
↺ You wouldn’t comprehend half the things he’s teaching you but you follow along anyway
↺ Ratio would be genuinely happy if you were able to learn something new from him and apply it to your life
↻ Ratio is the type of teacher figure to give you random quizzes to test your knowledge and understanding but he rewards you with things like snacks or trinkets he gets from his trips
↻ Ratio would be delighted to talk about his trips to you, explaining the history and geography of the planets he has traveled to you when he comes back
↺ He would draw a small map for you to understand the general location of the places he’s visited
↻ You’d be excited to learn about what places he’s seen and you’d ask him a myriad of questions to which he’d patiently listen and answer 
↺ The thought of Ratio being patient with a young child warms my heart, this is how he’d find out that maybe he can tolerate specific kids
↻ Ratio reading stories to you to help you fall asleep, but those stories would probably be academic books he uses to teach his students
↻ If you were to get in trouble for blowing something up, he’d show his disappointment and sternly give you a punishment that isn’t too harsh on you (he’d give you school work lol)
↺ Ratio would check in on you here and there when you’re in your room, if he finds that you’re asleep he’d tuck you in before looking over your work
↺ This makes me think of Ratio walking in to see that you had drawn him an artwork of the both of you with Dodoco (who he came to know as your prized friend)
↻ Ratio doesn’t have a clue who your parents or guardians are, so he tries to locate them at first to no avail (he ends up pretty much adopting you as his own kid)
↻ Sometimes you’d sit near his desk in his lecture hall when he was teaching his students, swinging your legs back and forth as you eyed everyone in the room
↺ His students find you adorable and get distracted by your presence at first before their professor sends them a chalk their way
↺ His students give you little gifts or snacks as they leave the room, a part of them hoping that Ratio’s rampage on his grade book will be softened by your happiness at the gifts you received
↺ He finds out what his students are doing, but lets them do it anyway since it’s making you happy (he’d probably set some limits though before you get way too much stuff)
-----
Veritas had just finished up his lecture with his students, organizing their work into neat stacks on one side of his desk. Once the last student had left his classroom, he took off his plaster head and sat it in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he saw a small empty chair to the left of his desk. It was where you normally sat. 
The violet-haired man was then reminded of your absence due to the sudden sickness you had caught the day before. With a sigh, he turned back towards the ungraded stacks of paper on his desk and got to work. He’d try to be home before midnight. 
…..
By the time he finished, it was already 9. Walking out of the campus, he was met with the emptiness the night brought with it. Students were already long gone, the handful of teachers that had stayed late already packed up and left for dinner, but he was running a bit late. So with a brisk pace, he set off in the direction of his home, the cool night air hitting his skin.
Once Veritas reached his destination, he quickly unlocked the door and went inside, the warmth of his home greeting him. His shoulders fell, the weight that had been put upon himself leaving his body as he could see a faint light coming from your room. 
Slipping off his outerwear, he quietly walked across the hardwood floors and stopped outside of your bedroom door. Veritas listened for any signs that you might be awake, but nothing. He placed his hand on the door and gently pushed it open so he was able to enter. 
You had left your bedside lamp on, with a couple of papers and crayons scattered across the desk you normally drew at. His eyes had landed on your small, curled-up form, snoring away beneath the comforters of your bed. He softly chuckled to himself, walking towards your bed and lifting the blanket so it reached your shoulders. You had stirred but only shuffled to get comfortable. Placing a small kiss on your forehead, Veritas got up to put away the crayons and papers you had left out.
While picking up and putting away the crayons in the correct order that was directed on the box, the bright, grainy colors on a paper caught his eye. He gently picked up a piece of paper that you seemed to have been working on while he was gone. It was a drawing of the both of you in a field of flowers, your best friend, Dodoco, in between the both of you. Veritas had to admit that it was cute, a small smile appearing on his face before he gathered the rest of your drawings and slid them into a folder. 
When he had finished making sure that everything was neatly put away, Veritas moved to turn off the lamp, wishing you sweet dreams. 
-----
⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙
note - hey ya'll.. nice weather we've got here... 😀 i really need to blast through my requests-- wearesobackipromise.
671 notes · View notes
stevebabey · 2 years
Text
Eddie has a test.
It took some time to formulate, a few too many times with guys careless with his heart, who leave behind more heartache than happiness littered in their memory. It’s fucking hard to tell.
More than once, there’s been a dude who promises between kisses i’m not going anywhere and takes more than his fill during a night which Eddie desperately hopes is passion and not some misguided lust. Only to wake a familiar empty side of the bed, them gone — skipping town, back in the arms of their parent-approved girlfriend, or back to spitting his name out with the word freak.
It’s what the test is for.
It’s specific, purposeful, all intending to weed out the straight boys who liked to dip their toes in the pool of queerness and leave Eddie to any consequences of the heart. Eddie doesn’t want to turn cruel, to be too jaded after feeling used too many times. It’s what the test is for. Protect the heart, see what interest is genuine.
Right now, he’s putting the test on Jared. New in town and in Eddie’s life, he’d captured the metalhead’s gaze from the glint of his pierced ear and light eyes that lingered. Kissed a little mean, and with too much teeth, but Eddie chalked it up to excitement. Jared seemed good. Nodded and smiled when Eddie found himself wrapped up in yet another DnD spiel. Said he found it endearing.
The test is simple.
A bid, a nudge, for attention. Never anything big or too exciting— that always got him specifically warped smirks designed to lead him along. Just something minuscule, like will you come take a look at my notes? or can i play you that riff once more? to see if it gave.
The pattern runs deep in Eddie’s dating history; same ol’ jerks who couldn’t bother to come and look at his new DnD sketches are always the ones who are only leasing a new sexuality for a month. It’s like setting a minefield and seeing who stumbles on a landmine, the bids getting ignored is as early as a warning sign he’ll ever get.
He tries the test on Jared.
It’s a Thursday night and Jared’s round at the trailer, lounging on Eddie’s sheets and still a little flushed from the night’s earlier activities. Usually it’s a good sign when the guys stick around after sex, not flying out the door once they’ve got what they want. By now, Eddie has drifted away from his bed, skittish thoughts already off and away with new campaign ideas.
He’s scrawling in a character design, some new boss, half troll, half hellhound, that requires a lot of finicky details worked out. The page is covered in scribbles, nothing in any semblance of lines and a crude first sketch is in the middle. It’s not quite the vision he had in mind but it took him an hour, so he’s hardly going to erase it. Besides, it looks pretty fucking metal to him.
“Hey,” Eddie calls out, a bit soft. No pet-names used— most of the time boys didn’t like them and wrinkled their nose. Those that didn’t mind, never returned them. “Can I show you the sketch I’ve been working on?”
He pauses, then launches into an explanation without waiting for a response, “It’s for the new campaign I’ve been planning, one of the bosses, and honestly, those little shrimps have no idea what’s coming for them.”
Jared, still slouched on the bed, peeks up a bit at the noise. He hadn’t really been doing much, just leafing through some of the junk beside Eddie’s bed. If Eddie let himself hold any hope, he would say it’s because he wants to know more about Eddie.
“Huh?” Jared asks, genuine enough that Eddie thinks maybe he didn’t hear him.
“A DnD boss?” Eddie says, eyebrows raising. He barrels on, thinking about how Dustin had helped propose the new boss, with a grin spreading across Eddie’s face. “Dustin, the little twerp, challenged me to pick a random combination of creatures and mash em’ together- see what crazy abilities come from it.”
“Who’s Dustin?” Jared asks, failing to sound like he cares. His eyes have wandered elsewhere, head falling back on the pillow and Eddie’s initial question about the sketch is long, long gone.
Oof. And that’s like 3 failed bids at one time because Eddie talks about Dustin all the time. Jared clearly isn’t interested in Eddie Munson, just what he can offer. Eddie’s heart grows a little colder.
“Look, I think I’m gonna get going, yeah?” Jared says, maybe sensing Eddie’s mood change as he begins to sit up and tug his shirt back over his bare skin. His sticks his feet in his shoes, laces them up. Eddie nods, tucks his notebook behind him and walks him out, plastering on a smile the whole time.
After ambling down the stairs to the trailer, Jared turns back, after searching the surrounding area for leering eyes, and he reaches out and gives Eddie’s hand a squeeze. Just a split second, before it flies back to his side.
Eddie would like to believe that he’s at least worthy of a goodbye kiss. Even if some wicked part of his brain says he’s not, that boys like Eddie Munson don’t get sweet goodbye kisses. Don’t get good relationships, just mindless flings.
The thought makes hurt flares in his gut, Eddie so desperately trying to protect his hope, and so before Jared can say anything, some pitiful goodbye, Eddie leans out the doorway and says, “Don’t call me.” then slams the trailer door.
It follows him around for the next week, his own personal storm-cloud to keep his head grey even when it’s sunny out. He mopes to Robin about it during her shift, probably the only other person he can talk to about it.
“So, you tested him? What does that even mean? Is there a gay test you know about that you haven’t told me about? That would be so uncool, man.”
She’s talking as she types, half paying attention to the computer. Steve is out in between the shelves, putting out a new batch of films— Eddie knows because he’d instinctively sought him out when he came in. Harrington was a pretty boy, sue him for wanting to enjoy the view.
Didn’t help he was also decidedly declared not-a-douchebag by Eddie during the whole upside down spiel and had the duality of biting off that bat’s head and somehow being the world’s biggest sweetheart for his friends. Friends that now included Eddie.
 What can you say? Going through that much together, including killing a death wizard and getting dragged out of an alternate dimension certainly forms some strong bonds. Plus, Steve was hot.
(Eddie denies the crush on the basis that would. never. happen.)
At the reminder of Vecna, Eddie winces and supposes he should be lucky he gets any sort of attention after that whole scandal. But it doesn’t stop him from draping himself across the front counter, laying pathetically with a pout on his lips. He shakes his head fervently at her question.
“Not a gay test, Robin.” He stresses. “It’s the Eddie-Munson-is-this-boy-gonna-stick-around-test.”
He rolls up onto his elbows and props his head into his waiting palms. “Gotta make sure I’m not being treated like some common whore.”
It’s meant to be a joke, a usual joking lilt to his voice, but the end of the sentences comes out a bit too bitter to land that way.
Robin’s sympathetic expression makes Eddie’s chest twinge in a way he doesn’t like. He waves her off. Slumps back down a bit before deciding he’s done enough wallowing in the public eye.
Robin doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his usual notebook, pages weathered and filled. Eddie usually hangs around the store on days without plans, flits between Robin and Steve, and scribbles in his notebook. She bites her lip, gaze moving between the book and the resigned expression on Eddie’s face as he turns to the latest page— the strange hellhound troll mashed up boss.
“Okay, I’ll bite—what’s the test involve?” She asks, pausing in her typing for a moment. Her hands don’t stop moving, still stressing the fabric of her pants twitchily. Eddie perks his head up, clutching his pencil a bit tighter and rolls right into it.
“It’s not even really a test, technically, but doesn’t matter- that’s just what I call it - it’s like a bid?”
Robin raises her brows and they disappear under her fringe. “A bid?”
“Yeah! A bid!” He waves his arms around as he speaks, gesticulating a bit wildly. “It’s like— like asking them to come look at something stupid and small, just to see if they’ll give your interests time of the day, yanno?”
He punches a finger down into his sketchbook. “A guy who can’t even be bothered to look at a sketch I worked on for an hour? Douchebag.”
Eddie’s tone turns a bit sing-song as he continues, like it’ll somehow distract from the bleakness of them. “Ergo, not sticking around.”
Robin’s hands finally stop their messing, becoming completely still against her legs. She finally swivels her body to face Eddie, a furrow between her brows. Her lips are quirked up, just a bit, like she knows something Eddie doesn’t. He feels his apprehension grow as he slumps his chin back into his hands.
“You mean, like how Steve is with you?”
Eddie stands a bit straighter at that, some flushed combination of disbelief mixing with delight flooded his body.
“What?” It comes out a bit more squeaky than intended. Eddie clears his throat, waves his hands, anything to stop that smirk from spreading across Robin’s face — he can feel his cheeks glow a bit warmer at the mere idea. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Robin smiles a bit and nods over to where Steve is. “Try it, test him.”
Eddie follows her nod, casting his eyes across the store to find Steve. He finds him situated in the romance section, a pile of cardboard box stacked beside him, the top box open and ready to be unpacked.
But Steve’s clearly been distracted by the first film in the box — he’s sunk deep into his mom-stance with one hip popped, one hand on his hip, the other holding the film as he reads the back cover of it very intently.
Eddie watches for just a moment, watches Steve squint and pull the case just a bit closer, wrinkle his nose adorably, snort a little laugh at whatever he’s reading — and dammit, this is just a fast track to insanity if Eddie watches him any longer.
“Steve,” he calls, too hesitant and too quiet. Steve’s head doesn’t move, he just flips the cover back over, marveling at the front. Eddie tries again. “Harrington!”
Steve’s head pops up, eyes skirting about to see who’s calling him. He doesn’t move when he sees it’s Eddie calling, just raises his brows. “Yeah?”
Eddie swallows, tries not to think of Robin paying close attention to both him and Steve. He grips his notebook a bit tighter even though he’s not entirely convinced Robin’s right. Steve Harrington doesn’t like DnD — not even for Dustin who has self-proclaimed himself Steve’s ‘adorable little brother that he never had’. Steve is hardly going to care if it’s Eddie asking.
“Do you wanna take a look at this sketch I’m working on?” He asks, as casual as he can.
Steve’s features give away just a hint of surprise, a blink as he comprehends what’s been said. Eddie holds his breath, ready to turn to Robin and say ‘I told you so!’ and to pretend that he’s not secretly hoping Steve will say yes.
“Sure,” Steve says, slotting the film back into the cardboard box and beginning to meander between the shelves towards the front desk. Eddie doesn’t even get time to be surprised because Steve’s suddenly there, in front of him, all expectant.
Eddie opens his mouth, thinks the better of it, and snaps it back closed. Instead, he thrusts the notebook to the side along the countertop, opened to the page of the sketch and doesn’t say anything. In the background, Robin snorts lightly. Eddie shoots her a glare.
If Eddie could look at Steve, he’d see the lightly amused expression on his face, but Eddie only focuses on the book. Really focuses. God, if he looks at Steve he’ll probably get some stupid mooned expression on his face that would totally give away his tiny stupid not-a-crush.
In his peripheral, he can see Steve sidle a little closer and lean over to peer at the page. And while he looks over it intently, Eddie let’s his eyes drift up, taking in the side of his face.
Curses his stupid handsome face. Then curses it some more when Steve lights up in recognition, turning to Eddie, excited to have a sliver of an idea what Eddie’s showing him. Normally, it’s all mumbo-jumbo to Steve. Not that he hasn’t tried to keep up but those kids are ahead of the curve and Steve wasn’t about to embarrass himself asking them to slow down their explanations.
“Woah, is this that one that Dustin was talking about?” Eddie thinks there might be a bit of genuine excitement leaking into Steve’s words.
“The weird like, mashed up, uh, what’s the word? Hyp- hypb—“
“Hybrid,” Eddie supplies, voice cool. His heart is not feeling so cool. Jesus Christ, Steve wasn’t supposed to pass Eddie’s test— he wasn’t even supposed to be tested. In order for that happen, they’d have to even be fooling around and Eddie blames his building blush on that mere suggestion.
“Yeah!” Steve raps his knuckles against the countertop and takes a second look at the drawing, closer this time. He looks back up at Eddie, so he knows he’s completely sincere when he says, “This is really cool, man.”
“Okay.” Eddie breathes, sounding a bit stupid. He remembers himself, remembers Robin watching him essentially bluescreen at the praise from Steve and wrenches his awed smile into a familiar smug type of grin. 
“Of course it is, Steve-o,” He quickly amends, reaching back and tugging the notebook back. It’s closes with a quick snap, like Eddie’s afraid Steve will take another look. “She’s not finished yet, of course.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep it from either taking an insanely egotistical route to pretend Steve’s praise hadn’t had a profound effect on him, or even worse, start trying to suddenly be humble — oh this ol’ thing? it’s nothing really, just threw it together quickly— Eddie nearly melts against the counter in relief when the bell on the front door saves him.
A customer enters the store, instantly taking Steve’s attention and he bounds off to help them, an easy smile on his face.
Eddie waits until Steve and the customer wandered off into the aisles to release his breath. He doesn’t look at Robin, just turns and presses his forehead down against the countertop. Then raises it just a bit, and thunks it back down, a couple of times for good measure.
“Okay, okay—“ Robin’s gone a bit wide eyed and she waves her hands at Eddie’s pathetic form, his head still bonking against the counter. “Stop doing that. Jesus, Eddie, are the dramatics always necessary?”
His motions stop at Robin’s words and Eddie’s whips his head up. He narrows his eyes at her, and as if to prove his point, exaggeratedly jabs a finger at her.
“Hey! Never deny my right to be a drama queen. It is my god given right as an American citizen—”
“He passed.” Robin says, cutting off what was about to be a very long rant about god knows what. Eddie just didn’t want her to say what she was about to. “Your test. He passed, didn’t he?“
That. He didn’t want her to say that.
“He’s being a good friend! A very good nice friend!” Eddie counters, only sounding a little bit whiny which takes half the conviction out of his words. He slams his hands down against the wood. “That test is for— it’s not for him! It’s for—”
An annoyed noise comes out of Eddie’s throat and he aims for one more thunk of his head against the counter before tugging it back up and meeting Robin’s smug expression. She’s too smug. Her whole face is smug smug smug and Eddie scowls. He points a deliberate finger at her again.
“Different context, alright? That—” He waves an arm behind him, in the direction of Steve carelessly. “—doesn’t count. Nope. Not- that’s not how the test works.”
Robin sighs, as if she realises how fruitless it is to keep chucking this argument between the two of them. Her hands finally resume their typing and Eddie lets his head drop again, this time resting it against the wood a tad more gentle. He slumps, blowing a pointless raspberry as he tries to evacuate every thought that’s entertaining Steve as more. Or Steve wanting more of Eddie.
“Look,” Robin says suddenly, halting her typing once more. Eddie rolls his head so he can see her but doesn’t bother to lift it. She’s sideways in his vision, but still barreling on in that Robin way. “One last thing and then I swear, I’ll leave it.”
Eddie raises his brows. Says nothing.
“Have you considered,” She pauses, and appears to be trying to pick her words carefully. “whether anyone else is putting their bids on you?”
Eddie wrinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at. Subtlety has never been Robin’s strong suit. It’s even more obvious when her eyes dart across the store — Eddie seriously doubts she’s talking about the random customer that had just entered.
“Just think about it?” She pleads, and Eddie feels his annoyance at how easily he can feel his heart roll over. “See if you notice any bids from... anyone! Anyone at all.”
Eddie picks his head up, chances a glance towards Steve and admits, there’s no harm in trying. Even though, Steve had surprised him today Eddie can find a dozen reasons to chalk that up to. A dozen reasons that don’t include mutual feelings.
Eddie mulls it over, because because what are the chances really? Steve putting bids out to him? To specifically Eddie? The chances are slim to none.
So the answer he gives is, “Sure.”
He’ll get to tell Robin later she can stuff it and wipe her smug expression off with the most righteous i told you so on the planet. There was no way she was right about this, right?
Part two. Part three.
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would you? (pt 1)
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Negan x Reader
Summary: Your mom died when you were 15, your Aunt Lucille was given custody even though she was battling cancer. When the world gets upended and Lucille dies, Negan is all you have, but he isn’t cut out to be a parent. When he becomes the leader of the Saviors and takes residence in the Sanctuary he’s almost a stranger. No one wants anything to do with you because you’re Negan’s “daughter”. So when you confront Negan about needing company, he obliges. You don’t realize that the feelings you’re developing are inappropriate, but Negan does.
Setting: height of the Saviors-era Sanctuary. 
Warnings: step-dad!negan (kind of), still it’s all morally questionable (morally objectionable probably), Negan being manipulative and neglectful (listen it’s Negan at his most King Dick okay??? Just know what you signed up for if you’re going to read it), mentions of dead relatives, masturbation (m and f), sexual themes (obvi), virgin!reader
Word count: 4k
17+ mdni
// part 2 //
masterlist
You were off limits. It’s not as if they weren’t allowed to talk to you, but no one wanted to even find out where that line was. Being Negan’s “daughter” had more downsides than perks as far as you were concerned. A glorified prisoner that just happened to have all your needs met. Well, except one. Human connection, physical contact. 
You’re so sick of being in your room. The Sanctuary was suffocating enough, but one room? The only time you ever left was to go down to get food, and even then it’s not like anyone spoke to you. You just grabbed whatever you needed, from whatever table. From the Saviors down to the prisoners, everyone avoided even making eye contact. 
You didn’t live in the same area of the Sanctuary as Negan and his wives. You used to. You’re sure that one of his wives had probably taken up the space that you’d left, the room next to his. You’d left after he took his second wife. You’d been debating it since he’d taken the first one, the noises coming from his room alone were enough to send you packing. But isn’t that what adults do? So you’d tried to just ignore it. Like you imagined you’d have had to do if none of this happened and you were still with your mom. 
Two wives, though? You’d never felt close to Negan. Not like he was your father. But… shouldn’t he be? Shouldn’t he have acted like it? He’d protected you like you were his own when you were still out there - but once he founded “the Saviors” and became their oh-so-ruthless ‘leader’ he almost acted like you didn’t exist. Or worse, that you were some thing he had to look after. Some sniveling little child that he seemingly wanted nothing to do with. 
That was a few years ago. Now you’re 18, and totally fucking bored to death. Trapped in a Fuckin’ smelting facility like it’s a goddamn high tower, and you’re the lady of Shallot. Interacting with the world around you, but not really. Oh, and he has 5 wives now. Gross. 
You’ve finally fucking had it. Negan has a strict policy about you leaving the Sanctuary even to just go outside. He can come collect you himself if he really cares that much. Stupid fuckin’ rules. 
You bring one of your notebooks and a pen. With no plans of leaving, or doing something stupid, you just want some fresh air. You just want something different. And maybe, a little bit, you wanted to piss him off. 
You’re sitting on the ledge right outside the Sanctuary, legs dangling off the concrete. Your notebook at your lap and your pen in your hand, scribbling little doodles and shapes. Writing out small flashes of feelings as you feel them. Just wanting to document the outside as if you’d never see it again. 
You were in bliss a grand total of twenty minutes before you heard his tongue clicking behind you. Maybe you’d have been better off just running while you had the chance. “I know you know better than to be out here, kid.” 
You roll your eyes and look up from your notebook, taking in the scenery while you still could, “Eighteen. Not a kid.”
“Shit, 18 already?”
It hurts. That he doesn’t remember your birthday, or how old you are. That no one in the whole world cares that you spent three birthdays by yourself, with no one to even remember or know that they’d happened. You try to be grateful, you have really really tried. But everyone’s got a breaking point. “At least, I think so. If no one wishes you happy birthday, does it still count?” Okay, so you could have come at him a little harder, but he was still Negan and you were fairly sure that he didn’t feel any responsibility for you anymore. Especially if you’re an adult now. You try to gauge things on if this were the real world, if things were still how they used to be. And 18 meant Negan held no legal responsibility to be your guardian anymore. 
“Goddamn that is sad!” But he makes no attempt to comfort. Doesn’t even wish you a belated happy birthday. 
“Yup.” You don’t move from your seat even as you hear him suck on his teeth, clearly expecting you to get up and get back inside. 
“Alright, come on, kid. Can’t have you out here.” 
“Not a kid.” You bite back again. 
He stifles a laugh, “Yeah. Right.” He’s smiling that same shit eating smile that seems to be plastered permanently on his face nowadays. You can’t figure out what’s so fucking funny all the time. Especially now. 
You don’t know how to ask him, what words to say I need a friend. I need a boyfriend. No one talks to me because you’re terrifying. You think about it the whole walk back to your room while he shadows behind. You get to your door and as he starts to walk away you manage to stammer out, “I-I need a friend!” 
He turns around, a confused (but still amused) look on his face, “So get a friend?” 
“No, you don’t get it. No one will even look at me because you scare the shit out of everyone.” 
He looks at you like he’s trying to hold something back, rubbing a gloved hand over his clenched jaw, “Ever think maybe you’re just not very like-able?”
You look back and forth on the ground in front of you. Honestly? you’d never even wondered that, it takes you back that he’d even suggested it. Negan smiles, Gotcha. Obviously that wasn’t why, and obviously it was because of Negan and the way he’d decided to lead through fear. Fear was all he had. But you were 18, emotionally neglected, and desperate for approval. Your own self worth was paper-thin. He knew that. And instead of letting you, or himself, feed into the idea that he’d failed you, he’d put all the blame elsewhere. Like he always did. Like he was good at. 
“Tell ya what, kid. I’ll spend time with you.” Your hero. 
You could see through it, but what could you really do about it? You chew on your lip trying to figure out how to respond to such a ridiculous and ludicrous display of manipulation. “Fine.” After all, it was better than being stuck in your room. Maybe you’d meet someone, maybe one of the Saviors was cute. Maybe something could happen organically and Negan would lighten up on you a little bit, “Not a kid, though.”
Negan laughs, “Yeah, alright. Lunch tomorrow, come to the common room. You remember where that is, right?” It felt like a taunt. 
“Okay.” You nodded without looking up at him, and finally turned the knob you’d been holding behind you. Letting your body fall back into your room, and shutting the door behind you. 
This was a bad idea. You could feel it down to your bones. 
✨🦇
You’re silently grateful that he sent his wives away to do other things. And though he’d told you to meet in the common room, you were sat in his bedroom eating lunch. You’d never seen so much food put out for just two people, but you weren’t surprised. Any and every opportunity Negan had to show off, he did. 
You felt awkward, uncomfortable, and worse - afraid. Negan could tell, and while a part of him reveled in it, another part of him could tell that he was fucking you up. That he already had. No 18 year old girl should be this afraid of having lunch with the only family she knew. The only person she knew. Fuck yeah, he’d fucked you up. “So, kid - I mean, shit. Sorry, gonna have to get used to not calling you that.” 
“I think you’ll manage.” You grumble, pushing the food around on your plate. You should have just stayed in your room. One thing that you’d picked up over the year or so with Negan out there? His attitude. 
He laughs in response, “Yeah,” he nods, chewing his food with an open mouth, “Guess I’ll have to, you’re going to have lunch here from now on.” 
Your eyes shoot up from your plate to look at him, “Why?” 
“Because - you’re getting all fucked up and stupid.” 
That makes you snort a laugh in response. “Yeah.. wonder who’s fault that is,” you say sarcastically back at him, taking a bite of food. 
“Probably your dead as shit mom.” Negan knows he went too far as soon as he says it, but he doesn’t make any attempt to take it back, to apologize. Instead he just looks at you, a half smile cocked on his face, twirling his fork in a giant helping of spaghetti. Like he’s almost impressed with himself for taking it there. 
“Wow.” You mouth, completely taken aback. You’d cried over your mom so many times, and this? From Negan? You were too shocked to react emotionally. Not here, not now. Maybe he was right and you were more fucked up than you realized. 
“So, uh, what do you do all day?” Negan had been genuinely curious. Well, for the last day or so. He had more or less forgotten you even existed until then. 
You push food around on your plate again, “Write, sew, read, draw. Started painting a few months ago but I fucking suck at it.” You sigh, “anything to keep my hands busy.” 
Negan chokes on the water he’s drinking and you give him a look of mild disgust. “Not that.” His eyes twinkle a little in disbelief. Yeah right you didn’t do that. You were 18, of course you did. But without anything, or anyone, to think about it got boring quickly. Sometimes a good book came your way and you’d have some material, for a little while. A chapter, or a page, or more usually just a few paragraphs that would keep you somehow sated. Somewhat. 
Still, you weren’t about to have that conversation with him. And Negan was more than grateful, his mind reeling at the idea that no one had ever had ‘the talk’ with you. And now, in this end of times, you didn’t even have television to teach you. No, Negan could absolutely not discuss the birds and the bees with you. He was not built for that. 
The rest of lunch is uneventful. He talks, you listen. He feels better about himself, and you feel nothing.
✨🦇
Lunches with Negan get better. Less awkward, more like an actual friendship… or something. You find yourself laughing at his shitty jokes, at least they’re jokes. At least it’s something. You stop needing to convince yourself that you only enjoy it because it’s better than nothing, you actually seem to like his company. You look forward to lunch, getting out of your room, laughing with him. Negan enjoys it too, but it’s still off. You’re still.. how he would describe ‘fucked up’ or ‘not normal’. You flirt with him. Relentlessly. He tries to ignore it, tells himself that maybe it’s just your personality, but he knows. You don’t. You’re completely oblivious. After all, you really have nothing to go off of. Nothing to base anything around. 
He gets you romance novels, asks the Saviors to grab them when they’re out on runs. He thinks this is the closest you can get to having television, to having someone or something teach you about that kind of stuff. Maybe that they would teach you the difference between platonic and romantic feelings. 
Really, though, he’s just making you horny. Even more than you had been, and he’s still the only person you talk to. He figures he could and probably should use his position to get you some kind of boyfriend, but it feels all wrong. Like some sort of arranged marriage, and it disgusts him. 
You touch yourself more often than you ever have. The romance novels finally feed this need. You think about the characters in the books, the lewd imagery described. It’s all so new and exciting. You never think about Negan, or something gross like that. 
It’s been a few months since the last one he brought you, but today at lunch he pushes over a whole stack. You jump up from your seat, too excited to contain yourself, and you jump on him in a hug. Burying your face into the crook of his neck. You can feel your heartbeat all the way down to your fingers as you pull back and, with a blush, sit back down in your seat, “Thank you.” 
Negan’s body is stiff while you hug him, and while you sit back down, an uncomfortable smirk on his lips. “You are very welcome.” Even through his discomfort he can’t help the pride bubbling over within him. Every other aspect of himself is weak to his desire for worship. 
When you leave that day, with your stack of books, you hug him again and kiss his cheek before running off to your room. 
Shit, Negan thinks to himself. Shit fuck shit. You’re only getting worse, more obvious. Now you’re hugging him and kissing him on the cheek? Maybe you’re just grateful for the books. But he knows.. this is wrong. He’s making it worse, maybe you’re past the point of being able to fix. For now, he ignores it. Maybe… hopefully… it’s just the books. 
If he had asked you, you would have reassured him. Obviously it’s just the books. You don’t wonder if it’s weird that you touch yourself after lunch, before even opening one of the new books. You don’t think about Negan, just the feeling of stubbled skin under your lips. The warmth of a person in your arms, your chest pressed up against someone. It was the first human contact you’d had since you got to the Sanctuary, and it set you on fire. 
✨🦇
Negan knows he fucked up. You hug him now after every lunch. Only giving him a kiss on the cheek when he brings you a new book or some other small gift. He doesn’t acknowledge within himself that since you started doing that, he’s started getting you more gifts. 
Eventually, though, he can’t keep ignoring it. One particularly bad week, where it seems everyone hates him, none of his wives will have sex with him. Not even a fucking handjob. He’s forced into the degrading task of jerking himself off, something he hasn’t done in years. And, while the shame doesn’t come until after he’s finished, he thinks about you. 
You, with all your nervous glances of prying eyes. The way your developed chest feels against his when you hug him. He fantasizes your lips asking him questions like, “Is this what I’m supposed to do?” 
“Do boys really like that?” 
“You want me to use my mouth?” 
His forehead pressed firmly against the closed door of his bathroom, he opens his eyes to look down at himself. His swollen member in his hand, throbbing over the thought of you. 
“I don’t think that’s going to fit inside me.” He groans keeps going, imagining his cock is the first thing ever pushed inside your tight hole. 
Streaks of his cum paint the door, and he peels his forehead back before slamming it against the wood again. Fuck, this shit is not fucking okay. 
✨🦇
Negan doesn’t know that he absolutely would not be the first thing inside your precious virgin pussy. No, you’d started to get creative. Finding your fingers almost useless when it came to hitting that spot you’d discovered deep inside. They were never hard enough, fast enough, thick enough. The handle of your hairbrush was your favorite. It was the easiest to keep clean, the easiest to maneuver. But it still wasn’t exactly what you wanted. Nothing ever seemed to be quite enough. Every orgasm left you wanting. 
Wanting what? Because you never found yourself wanting a boyfriend anymore when it used to be all you thought about. You think of feeling Negan’s facial hair against your cheek, and your body is rocked by its second orgasm for the night. Tossing the hairbrush to the end of the bed, you roll over and fall asleep. 
✨🦇
You startle awake to the sound of a knock on your door. It’s loud, demanding, Negan. 
Getting off the bed you turn on the light with a sleepy grumble. You pull some pants on, and he knocks again. “I’m awake!” You yell, “hold on!” But this only spurs him to knock more aggressively. 
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is going on?” You mutter as you finally unlock and open the door. Obviously it was Negan, but what you weren’t expecting was how absolutely disheveled he looked. “Woah, what happened to you?” 
“Remind me to teach you manners.” He says as he pushes past you and into your room. 
“Come right in.” You say sarcastically, turning around and shutting the door behind you. He’s sat on your bed, looking around at all the things in your room, his eyes settling on your rows of romance novels. He gets up from the bed and walks over to the bookshelf, pressing a finger into one of the book spines before pulling it out and skimming through it. 
“Are you… drunk?” You ask him, the smell of alcohol emanating from him only becoming more obvious the longer he stands there, slightly swaying on his feet. 
“Why?” He asks defensively, his eyes not moving from the page of the book he’s trying to read. 
“Because you smell like booze?” 
He ignores your question and your reason for asking, slamming the book shut as he gets to a particularly dirty part and he can’t bear to read anymore. “We need to talk.” And he looks at you. 
You’re nervous, standing there anxiously you start to play with your hair and look away, “Oh, okay… wha- what about?” 
“This!” He exclaims with an extended arm, motioning at you, “You. What are you doing?”
You look at him confused, brow knit together trying to purse some sort of answer, “I’m not… I was sleeping.” You shake your head, not understanding at all what he was getting at. 
“You’re twirling your goddamn hair.” Oh. He was right, you had been. But what does that mean to him? You look at him even more confused. 
Closing your eyes, one hand comes up to massage the bridge of your nose, “Okay, I’ll never twirl my hair again?” You shrug your shoulders as if to ask him if that would be all. Too sleep-kissed to comprehend what the hell he was going on about. 
“No, Jesus-fucking-Christ, girl, the flirting. You gotta stop. I’ve let it go on too long, and it’s not.. shit, it’s not appropriate, all right?” 
You rub your eyes harder as you hear his words, what a fucking idiot, you think. You can’t help the smile that starts to form on your face as you answer him, “Negan, I’m not… I don’t….” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. 
He puts the book down and shakes his head, even now you were clearly into him. All nervous, smiling. Giddy. 
“You are. And you need to stop. I can’t… I can’t keep having meals with you if you’re going to be hugging me, kissing me on the cheek. It’s wrong.” 
You actually manage a laugh at his ridiculous behavior. Coming in like this, filled with liquor and angst and thinking he’s figured something out about you. “I’m not into you, Negan. Hugging and kisses on the cheek aren’t always romantic.” You say it like you’re letting him in on something he’d never considered. 
He nods, “Yeah, that’s true.” Negan turns to face the wall away from you, shaking his head as he looks up to the ceiling. “It’s not just that. It’s the way you look at me, the way you laugh. Shit, girl, it’s the way you’re lookin’ at me now.” 
“Don’t you think I’d know?” You cut in, without responding to his most recent accusation. 
“I don’t know, kid, would you? You probably have a bunch of hormones running wild in your body and you have no idea what to do with them. I’m not blaming you. I mean…” he stops himself before he starts talking about how attractive he is, and how no one could blame you for feeling this way. 
“I know what to do with my hormones, Negan.” You say blankly, is he really trying to have this conversation? You’re not. Jesus Christ, he can’t really think that you don’t know how to relieve that ‘tension’ on your own. What did he think you were doing with the romance novels? 
He smiles at your little admission, nodding and rubbing his jaw, “Yeah, I’m sure you do. Let me ask you something..” he takes a step toward you and you feel your heartbeat skyrocket. His eyes staring you down with such intensity you have to look away, “how do you feel, huh, when I get close to you?” He steps closer, now only a foot away. Your eyes cast down to the ground, a knot forming in your throat, “you can’t even look at me,” he whispers. 
As if to prove him wrong you look up at him. Your breath hitches and he can hear it. You can hear it. Your heart hammering against your ribcage, you swallow. Shit. 
Big doe eyes look up at him, and he feels all the blood rush between his legs. Hard as a rock for you in seconds, that deft innocence, those pretty lips moving without a sound. Trying to form some kind of response. You… looking up at him and having feelings you’ve never felt before. This is why it has to stop. Negan’s never been good at controlling these urges, and the more you look up at him like that the less he wants to. 
You try to speak, to tell him he’s wrong, but your voice quivers, “I… I don’t. I’m not…” Your smile that you can’t manage to stop only confuses you more. 
“You are.” He slams his fist on the wall next to you, causing you to jump a little. He looks back down at you, your eyes enveloped in fear and nervousness, cheeky smile gone. Negan takes two fingers and holds them to your throat, “Do you feel your heart beating out of your chest? I bet if I..” he takes your throat in his hand and you whimper out the slightest moan. 
His lips turn up in a smile as he brings his face even closer to yours. “See? I’ve barely got my hands on you and you’re already moaning.” 
It hits you fast, the shame and desire all at once. Mostly the desire, with his hand at your throat and his voice saying words you’ve only ever read. Shit. 
You don’t know how to respond, you can’t think straight. You just nod, he was right, it seems. Right? Because this certainly was having an affect on you. You wanted him to keep going, your body begged for it, but you couldn’t move. Too caught up in a fearful nervousness. This was wrong? It didn’t feel wrong. 
“Doesn’t feel wrong,” is all you manage to breathe out, unable to break your gaze from his lips. In response Negan leans back as his grip grows tighter at your neck, and you panic, bringing both of your hands up to his wrist to try and pull him away. He doesn’t let go but his grip loosens. 
Negan isn’t thinking clearly either, he hadn’t anticipated all of this. Having to convince you, prove to you, that you were having inappropriate feelings only made his own envelope him. And he was drunk. You, completely at his mercy and seemingly happy to be. Fuck shit fuck me. 
He finally lets go and pushes past you and out of your room. Leaving you completely blindsided. For once, though, you’re not confused. Not unsure. No, there was no question what you were going to do next. You were going to make it absolutely impossible for him to say no. 
Burning up your core and through your chest, into your brain. That spot, that insatiable feeling, that desperate heat that throbbed through you. Now you knew for sure, he could satiate it. 
pt 2
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hugsandchaos · 7 months
Text
Seeing Double
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.
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“And that’s why I have... complicated feelings about Danielle being here.” Conner finished. Black Canary sat across from him and was leaned forward a little to listen. It felt good to finally get something like this off his chest.”It’s not anything against Danielle specifically. If it’s the safest place for her like Phantom says, then she can stay as long as she needs. It’s...” He trailed off, not knowing how to put the reason into words.
Luckily, Black Canary knew what he was implying by what he had already told her.”You also want Superman to be there for you like Phantom is for Danielle.” She said. Conner clenched his hand into a fist, but only for a second. She was right. He silently nodded.
“It’s not just that, either. Sometimes I want to be included in their sibling activities. I want to hang out with them. Not Superman. Not as often as before, at least.” He added. He thought himself pretty rude for thinking that. He wasn’t nearly as close to Phantom as Danielle. He wasn’t related to him in hardly any way, and they only recently started hanging out the way friends did.
And yet here he was, wanting to be part of their little group.
Black Canary seemed only a little bit surprised by this.”You want to be their brother?” She asked.
Conner shouldn’t have been taken aback by the suggestion when he began thinking about it. Yes, he wanted to be close with both of them the way they are with each other. Yes, he wanted to protect them both. And yes, there was a small part of Conner that wanted to be able to look to Phantom for help.”I... I think so. If that’s what it would mean.” He said. He’s heard of people calling others they’ve fought many battles with “brothers in arms” and those who are simply close to one another their brothers as well, regardless of wether or not they’ve survived fights together.
Canary smiled a little bit and nodded for him to continue.
“But what am I supposed to do about this? I’ve been mostly ignoring it because they have a bond with each other that I don’t have. I can’t just butt in on it.” Conner said. He wasn’t wrong, and Canary knew that. Then again, she also knew something that would make that feeling disappear.
However, she knew that it wasn’t her place to say it.
~~~~~~~~~~
Around thirty minutes later, Black Canary now sat across the from Phantom, who was floating above the recliner instead of sitting in it. She had only very recently been able to make a small breakthrough with the ghostly teenager. Since his arrival, he’s been trying to avoid opening up with almost anything she’s tried to talk with him about, but soon after Danielle came, he finally opened up a little. Maybe it was the fact that someone he was more familiar with was there with him. Or perhaps it was because of the very thing he’d mentioned during their last session.
Phantom was alternating between eye contact and staring at the floor.”You mentioned something last time. About Conner.” She said.
“I’m worried about him. The others have their families, but...” He trailed off. He opened and closed his mouth a few times while he struggled to find the right words. This was pretty common during these sessions, and Canary knew to be patient.”Can I be mean for a second? Say something I probably shouldn’t?” He asked.
Canary nodded.”Nothing leaves this room.” She assured him.
Phantom looked her in the eyes.”Superman is a coward.” He said bluntly.
Canary was taken aback by his choice of words, but didn’t let it show and remained silent for him to explain.”He has a clone, practically a literal son, but he refuses to see him almost as anything but non-sentient. Why? Is it because he’s too much of a coward to step up? Why won’t he at least apologize for what he said last visit and admit he was wrong!” He said.
Phantom’s tone and volume had raised up, which sounded like the start of a rant. He rolled his eyes as if disgusted.”He’s acting like a deadbeat with the way he does his best to ignore Conner’s existence! Seriously, the way he treats him almost makes me want to...”
Canary raised an eyebrow slightly. The ghostly teen let out a sigh.”This is gonna sound weird, but it makes me want to have Conner as my little brother so he doesn’t have to feel the way he does. But I can’t treat him like a child and just make him leave the room whenever he comes.” He said.
Canary nodded in agreement.”That’s may be true, but your motive is in the right place. It’s incredibly kind of you to be so worried about your friend that you’d be willing to become something of a new role model or guardian for him. Especially since he’s older than you.” She said.
Phantom lifted a hand and shook it side to side.”Eh, only biologically. Definitely not chronologically.” He said.
~~~~~~~~~~
Conner and Phantom were talking about their day when Wally had come in to tell them, specifically Conner, that Superman was coming in a few hours. Phantom’s reaction was immediate; zipping out of the room through the wall and vanishing. He came back a second later with an important to ask Conner.
It was a task that’d keep him busy from having to interact with Superman, which he really wanted at the time. All he had to do was watch Danielle and prevent his original from even seeing her.
And so here he was, doing a simple dog puzzle with Danielle in his bedroom.
Conner finished sorting the edge pieces from the rest and picked up a corner piece.”So you’ve never been to the ghost zone before?” He asked.
Danielle shook her head and held an edge piece near the corner piece to see if it would match.”No, Phantom says my core’s too weak to survive going through the portal. He says he’s working on a solution to fix that, though. “Even if it’s just for one trip,” he said.” She explained. The piece was incompatible, so she moved it to the size. She picked up another one. That one fit. The young ghost picked up another edge piece. Conner let out a small hum and helped her search for other pieces.
He had found it infuriating to discover that he was practically half of what Superman was in terms of superpowers, but Danielle didn’t seem too angry about being not as strong as her brother. Maybe it was because he was so nice and encouraging to her.”You’re lucky to have a brother like Phantom.” Conner said. Danielle nodded in agreement and looked up at him.
She knew by now that he was also a clone like her and had so many questions, but stopped when he started to get upset a few weeks ago. He didn’t know if anyone explained the situation to her yet.”Don’t you have a family?” She asked. Conner remained quiet.
Rejection from the very person that’s practically the reason you’re alive hurt a lot. He kept his anger under control, though. At least, he tried. If she had asked this months ago, he might’ve yelled at her or something. Now he was better at controlling himself until he could hit something, but he still wanted so badly to just explode. To hit something and shatter it to a point beyond repair. But he couldn’t. Not here. Conner shook his head.
Danielle frowned a little, but then she suddenly sat up. A big smile appeared on her face.”What if you were my second brother?” She asked.
Conner paused. He’d been pushing the developing want to become her and Phantom’s brother. He strongly believed that it wasn’t right to intrude on their relationship as siblings, especially when he wouldn’t exactly be the best brother with the anger issues he’s working on. He glanced over at Danielle with a very shocked look.
She was smiling at him so hopefully. Conner almost didn’t want to say no. Scratch that, he didn’t want to say no at all. And even if he did, would he be able to resist that pleading look?“That would be nice.” He finally said. Danielle took in what was probably the most dramatic gasp he’d ever heard and practically lunged at him for a hug.
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a bunch of static and pings. Conner soon smiled and hugged back.”You know I can’t understand you, right?” He asked.
“Oh, right! Sorry. But this is the best!! Now I have two brothers, and one of them is a clone like me!!” She cheered, switching back to English.
Suddenly, Phantom’s head poked up through the floor, startling the both of them.”He’s gone. What’s this I hear about a new brother?” He asked. Danielle let go of Conner as Phantom floated up and smiled.
“Can Conner be our new brother?” She asked. Phantom’s eyes widened a bit. He glanced over at Conner, who shrugged.
Why did he shrug? That was stupid.
Phantom glanced between him and Danielle, then smiled.”Sure, why not?” He said. Danielle threw her arms into the air and cheered. Phantom floated over to Conner and gave him a hug.”Guess you’re stuck with us now.” He said, then laughed.
Conner didn’t really get it. He said that like it was a bad thing.
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