#until we have to ask for a fork

[maximumeffort]

cheers to all who celebrate

[dear-ao3]

best brownies in the known universe (at least, according to my grandma)

some year and a half ago when i was getting ready to move out i combed through all the family recipes that lay lost to time and one of the ones that i found was my grandmas brownie recipe. idk where she got it from (nor can i ask cause she has dementia) and its a printed out email she sent to my mom in june 2000. but by george these the best brownies i have ever tasted. would she be pleased that i am sharing this recipe with my vast following? absolutely.

YOU WILL NEED:

5 tablespoons butter (unsalted) 1 ounce unsweetened baking chocolate (or as much as your heart desires) 2/3 cup unsweetened good cocoa powder 1 cup sugar (white) (superfine preferred, normal works fine) 1 cup sifted white flour (can use gluten free) 1/2 teaspoon baking powder as much cinnamon as your heart desires (your heart needs to desire at least some cinnamon. its essential to the recipe) 3 egg whites 1 egg splash of vanilla extract (again, non negotiable step!)

preheat your oven to 325 degrees. grease a square baking pan (9x9 preferably).

in a small saucepan over medium heat melt the butter and baking chocolate. while that is melting, sift together the flour, baking powder and cinnamon into a small bowl. once the butter and chocolate is done melting add the cocoa powder and cook it together for 1 minute. add in the sugar and stir. it will get very thick. this is correct.

set that aside to cool. while thats cooling take a large bowl and put in your egg whites, egg and vanilla. beat it up with preferably a whisk but you can use a fork if youre fresh out of whisks. once the chocolate is cool enough to not scramble your eggs dump it in the eggs and mix it together. add the flour in gradually and keep mixing until its smooth and happy.

spread into your greased baking pan. put it in the oven for EXACLTLY 18 MINUTES. very crucial step. they will come out slightly under done. that is what we want. as they cool they will continue to cook in the pan. we dont want them to get hard and sad. they are not good when they are hard and sad. do not overbake them. you will be sad.

slice them up and as the official last step on the original recipe says: EAT ENJOY AND MAKE MORE! (theyre very good with mint chocolate chip ice cream)

[targaryenluvs]

RAVAGE

pairing: dark!president!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

warnings: possessiveness, murder, robbery, bad smut, controlling, tears, babying, kisses, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, kinda subby corio/dom, praise, sense of entitlement? breeding kink, tummy bulge, overstimulation, little bit of aftercare

word count: 2k

a/n: i’m such a bitch for making everyone wait so long for a delicate part two 😌 and i finally have the confidence for smut so heheh - yes i’m using tvd names a lot - corio/coryo use - tried out a new layout 👀

part one of delicate

you couldn’t believe it.

coriolanus snow, president of panem.

all of his hard work has finally paid off and you couldn’t be more happy for him. you wanted to give him a gift but you still had no idea what he would want. it seemed the two of you practically had everything overnight, so a measly gift seemed to be difficult to acquire, one that he liked? even harder.

so you’d decided to go out, the idea of surprising him exciting you so much you’d forgotten to tell coriolanus where you were going to.

so imagine his surprise when his assistant told him you’d left the house, viewing you on the security cameras.

which you had no idea were there.

coriolanus saw it as an act of defiance.

he had to move about this correctly, he couldn’t have you injured, but he needed to scare you back into his arms. to remind you of the horrible place that panem was.

over twelve stores, and nothing. so you’d decided to enlist the help of one of your few friends. “not a single clue of what he’d want?” elena asked as you stabbed at your fries, “nope.” you answered as you placed a fry in your mouth.

“well if he has absolutely everything then his gorgeous wife should be a nice gift after an extremely long day no?” you looked up at her, confused, “what do you mean?” she giggled, “oh god, i forget how you don’t know that much. you, y/n.” at your adorable puppy face she leaned in, “your body.” you jumped back at her words, “i… i’ve never.”

“you’ve never?!” elena slapped her hand over her mouth at your admission, “how? i mean you’re absolutely stunning sweetheart, how hasn’t he yet?” you played with the table cloth in your hands, “i don’t know.” elena twisted her fork around her pasta, “okay has he never made a move, or, have you never noticed the signs?” you took a sip of your wine as you stared back at her, “what signs?” elena sighed, rubbing her temple, “there are signs, moments. the two of you, sitting on the couch and his hand trails higher. his breath quickens at the sight of you in a dress. the little things.”

“and what happens if you notice these signs, act on them?” and this was exactly her expertise, she wiped her face with her napkin before paying the bill. “if i’m going to explain this in detail then we need to go to my house. or a dirtier part of town. my dear girl, i’m taking you to your first ever bar.”

coriolanus has to hold on to his mask of self-restraint, you’d been spotted at a bar, with one of your friends that he despised. but at least his plan could take full effect without a hitch.

your mind had been blown, irrevocably and utterly blown. the way elena had described it all, she made it sound like heaven. but she did tell you about other men, some care for themselves more so than the girl. and you had no clue what type of man corio was in bed.

you’d been so absorbed in your own thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man following you, not until he attacked you. he’d been going after your bag of course, but it was a gift from coriolanus. the man was unrelenting as he shoved you against the cold wall, grimy hands pushing and pulling with you as you tried to regain hold of your purse. “let go!” you cried out before he slammed you into the wall again, loosing grip on the purse coriolanus had just gifted you.

what would he say? it was his gift to you!

you woke up with a throbbing headache and corios hands brushing away strands from your face. “there you are sweet thing. you feeling okay?” you peered up at him, unable to move due to the millions of blankets on you. noticing your struggle he smiled before shifting them off, “better?” you nodded before sitting up with his help.

“corio, i lost the bag you gave me. the bad guy he- i’m so so sorry. please don’t be mad with me i didn’t mean to-“ he laughed, although it didn’t reach his eyes, “you think i care about the bag y/n/n? i could buy you a million bags, better bags. i’m just glad you’re okay. those guys, they won’t bother you again.” all you could do was sob and hug him, pondering the meaning of his words.

AN HOUR AGO

“hey, what the hell man? you said to attack the girl and take the bag!” the man shouted as coriolanus undid his cuffs, adjusted his sleeve, pushing it back on both arms. “i told you to go for the bag, yes. but i specifically remember drilling it into your head not to hurt her. and now she’s lying in bed, has been for the past three house with bruises everywhere. and for that?”

shouts and screams of pain echoed through the abandoned building as coriolanus struck the man with a hammer, over and over and over. the job had one guideline. and this idiot couldn’t get it right.

don’t hurt his delicate girl.

PRESENT

you’d been so absorbed with worrying over the purse and apologising for your tears you hadn’t noticed corios hungry eyes. “i really did like that purse.” he murmured, “oh corio, i should’ve tried harder to keep it. what can i do?” hook, line and sinker. he had you where he wanted and he’d finally get what he deserved.

“let me fuck you. please.” and who were you to say no? your naivety led to him laying you down on the bed, head between your thighs. you’d heard about it from elena, a man pleasuring a woman, but it was a million times better than you could’ve imagined. coriolanus was messy, and desperate. he’d been waiting for so long and god was it worth it.

his heart raced with both excitement and nervousness as he held your thighs in his own hands, tracing up and downwards, feeling the warmth against his own skin. coriolanus couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you. “you wanna cum?” corio mumbled as he continued sucking on your swollen clit, “mhm.” you could hear him laughing at your pathetic excuse of agreeing.

coriolanus wholeheartedly believes you belong to him. the second you were married, and even before, you were his. your submission would prove it, and he would do anything for it. you were his and he was yours. his bold blue eyes ravished you, all of you, “who’s making you feel this good?” your hips squirmed away from him but he just pulled you back, pushing two fingers into you.

corio reveled in your naivety, the way you responded to his touch, the way you whispered dirty words as if it were a sin. and right now, you still couldn’t bring yourself to name what you needed. his pace was brutal as he lapped at your cunt, a third finger curling inside of you as they went in and out. your gasps and cries were music to his ears, he’d been denied this all too long, and he wasn’t sure how he’d ever done it. “cmon, say it.” and you did, over and over again. “it’s you! you, coryo.”

“coryo, ah, your fingers feel so good,” you mewled, tilting your hips more trying to lean into his touch. coryo withdrew his fingers to play with your clit, rubbing circles around your sensitive nub that resulted in you crying out in pleasure.

“such a good girl, getting all wet for me,” you nodded along dumbly, “for you, all you.” you babbled as he kissed you deeply.

coryos hand dragged up and down your folds, “your pussy is soaked, baby. look at that,” you whined at the feeling of him not touching you, your cheeks flushed at the sight of your arousal. coryo pulled his pants down, throwing them away over his shoulder. you hid your head into the pillow as coryo tutted, “you have to look pretty girl, look at the mess you made.” coryo taunted as he rubbed your slick juices all over his dick, trying to humiliate you, get a rise out of you. coryos hand holds onto your neck, tightening as you clutched on with both hands, “please, coryo, i’ll be so good.” he rested his forehead on yours, noses touching.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he whispered in your ear, “my beautiful wife, you’d look so good with my baby in you.” the idea of having his baby had you pressing your lips to his as he bit down on your lower lip, making you gasp as your lips part, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring every bit of you he’d ever wished to. his hunger hadn’t fallen, only increased.

“ i need to fuck you,” he panted, you having stolen his breath. coryo teased your folds with the head of his cock, “need to fill up this pretty little pussy of yours,” he pushed into you, warm walls coating his cock as he groaned, “you feel so good.” he moaned into your neck as your hands clutched onto his broad shoulders. he wasn’t sure if he’d last long but then again he didn’t care, it’s not like you knew it was a short time.

the way you clenched down on him was more than enough proof of your virginity. your cries fueled him on as he pinned your hips down into the mattress, rutting against you wildly. “you feel that?” he was everywhere, filling you up. his dick making an appearance through the bulge in your tummy. “uh-huh. too much i can’t-” he stopped you before you could finish by pressing down on it with his palm, “yes you can baby.” you shook your head, “coryo i can’t, you feel too good.” you begin, crying from how good he was making you feel, from how dumb and desperate he was making you.

“m’ gonna fill you up, gonna give you my baby.” he was driving you crazy, his heavy panting, hands on either side of your head, his voice was deep and filled with fire. “yes, yes please inside me.” coryo’s eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed you were too much, fuelled on by the idea of a pregnant wife, pregnant you. swollen belly, heavy breasts, relying on him to help you out of bed. his hips stuttered and faltered as he came inside you with a low groan. he didn’t care about pulling out and neither did you as your release came down on you again. “feels so good coryo, thank you.”

he couldn’t help his smile as you continued to thank him for making you feel so good. his ego was sure as hell swelling as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed. his hand caressed your face, kissing you all over, praising you.

“you did so well f’me. proud of you baby.” you grinned up at him as you snuggled into his neck. “only for you coryo.” all for him. “i’ll clean you up okay?” you nodded along as he got out of bed.

coriolanus deemed the night a success, but for some reason he didn’t feel complete. he wanted more. but as he looked up at your sleepy eyes and tired out body he wanted to let you rest. but the idea seemed to slip out of his head once he was levelled with your core again, his release spilling out of you and the warm towel forgotten. he didn’t stop himself when he began to lick at you, his tongue working his way into your entrance as your head shoved at his face.

“coryo, i’m sensitive. coryo please stop.” you attempted to crawl away but his hands dragged you to the edge of the bed, legs around his head. your body fell limp against the sheets as pleasure took over. your hands laced with his hair as you cried out.

it was going to be a long night.

[hailsatanacab]

A Persuasive Argument - dpxdc

"Great!" Danny says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention. The dinner table falls silent as everyone looks towards him. It's a full house today and, honestly, Danny's a little nervous. "I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here today."

"It's dinnertime. In our house." Duke mutters, while doing a very bad job of concealing his yawn. He holds his fork poised over the braised beef, but, just like everyone else, still looks towards Danny before tucking in. It's intriguing enough to wait.

"Yeah, no one misses Alfie's dinner." Dick says, with a brilliant smile that Danny can't help but return.

"Precisely! What better time to talk to you all than when you're all actually here!"

"Wait, I thought you came round to work on our English essays?" Tim asks, blinking owlishly.

"I'm afraid I've lured you here under false pretences, Tim."

"This is where I live."

"I would still really appreciate help on that essay though, I mean, what the hell is Hamlet even about? I just don't get that old time-y language, like 'Hark! A ghost hath killed me!' - absolute rubbish, what does that even mean?"

"The ghost never kills anyone in Hamlet, he's there to tell Hamlet that he was murdered. Have you actually read it?"

"No, but it sounds like you have. Tim, I want this guy to help me with my essay instead. I know for a fact that you haven't read Hamlet, either."

"So? We don't need Jason, I've read the Sparknotes."

"Hi Jason, I'm Danny, pleasure to meet you, summarise Hamlet in three sentences or less."

"Am I auditioning to help you write your essays? I can't believe you’ve gone through your whole school life without reading it, it’s good!"

"Hamlet, along with a number of other classics, was banned in our house because it portrayed ghosts as intelligent and sympathetic beings rather than evil, animalistic beasts. I didn’t even get to see The Muppet's Christmas Carol until last year with Tim! It was surprisingly good, and I hate Christmas because everyone always argued and it sucked. But we're getting off topic. I—"

"No, no, please go back to that, because what the fu—"

"Boys, please." Bruce interrupts, looking to the world as if he wants to hang his head in his hands. "Danny, you were about to say something?"

"Oh, yeah, Mr. Wayne! Thanks!"

"Please, call me Bruce."

"Well, that very succinctly brings me to my point, because I'd actually really like to call you dad."

Nobody says a word. Nobody even blinks, all as shocked as the other, watching open-mouthed as Danny pulls his laptop out from beside his chair. Bruce can definitely feel a headache coming on.

"Before you say anything, I've prepared a 69 slide PowerPoint presentation on why you, Bruce Wayne, should adopt me, Danny Last-Name-Pending. Please save your questions, comments, and verdict until the end, thank you."

[lovifie]

Messy Eaters

Masterlist

The 141 have to attend a gala dinner.

Really fancy, with lots of protocols, too many forks and too little time.

That's you give them a speed-up masterclass on etiquette.

With Gaz and Price, it goes by in a blur, both men are perfectly attentive, making sure to ask any question and thanking you once it is done.

With Ghost and Soap? You wish you could sink the fish fork in his eyes.

"Which one is for meat again?" "The one with two spikes"

"Which one do you use for chips?" "There won't be chips."

"What's this one for?" "That's a toothpick, you brought it here"

"Why are there so many glasses?" "For all the different drinks."

"Where is the pint glass?" "There are no pint glasses on this dinner."

"You seem stressed" "You reckon?"

It's not your fault that they are both such messy eaters, but deep down you love it.

Especially when they start to take turns to go down on you, the sloppiest head of your life.

They have you laid on your back, mock glasses and places thrown out of the way. Your legs on each side of his head, resting on his shoulders, while he sits on his chair eating your cunt like it was the main dish.

Slurping up your juices, face buried deep between your folds, the nose from the broken nose rubbing against your clit making your legs spasm as his hands grab your thighs keeping you in place.

He wishes he could hear your pretty moans if it wasn't for the mutt making out with you. You can't help but open your mouth when Simon's tongue moves deeper into your gummy walls, and Johnny dives into your mouth with his tongue.

Such a nasty and disgusting kiss that has your head feeling fuzzy, there is spit running down your cheek, his tongue deep I'm your mouth checking every single tooth on it, sucking your tongue onto his mouth, moaning into you as if he was the one getting head, his hand resting over your breast massaging it continuously like a machine.

You have lost count of how many times you have cum around Simon tongue, the little mat under your body soaked with your juices and saliva, and you think they will finally take pity on you. Until Simon pats your thigh before standing up, looking at Soap and motioning to the chair with his head.

"C'mon, Johnny. Your turn, we need to practice for the dinner."

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z 

@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212 

@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121  @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  

@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk 

@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat 

@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw 

@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting 

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 

@katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 

@mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt @crinoid90

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 8: The Thing About Ghost

Summary: You should have expected something bad would happen. You just didn't expect this. Perhaps something good could come of it after all.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, slight Gaz x Soap

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, nightmares, violence, medical stuff

A/N: I started this chapter this morning. It just came spilling forth and thus you're getting a bonus update this week. I'm honestly so glad to have this one done. Now I can finally say something more than "you'll see" when you ask about Ghost.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You reach a hand out from under the mountain of blankets, fumbling blindly across your nightstand until you reach your vibrating phone. You pull it under the blankets, blinking blearily at the name on the screen. 

Kyle. 

“Hello?” You mumble sleepily, your eyes already drooping again. 

“Oh, so you can hear your phone vibrating but not me knocking at your door for fifteen minutes?” 

You let out a quiet groan, burrowing back under the covers. “Comfy.” 

“I’m sure you are, but it’s breakfast time, love.” 

You let out a quiet groan, still not moving. “Not hungry.” 

“You need to eat, love. You’ll be grumpy all morning if you don’t.” 

He’s right. If you skip breakfast, you’ll get snippy and hangry. Yet, the comfort of your bed is calling, threatening to lull you back to sleep again. 

“Don’t go falling asleep on me again.”

You startle back awake, groaning. “I wasn’t.” 

“Come on, love. I don’t want to have to get Soap to kick in your door.” 

You let out a loud, dramatic groan before grumbling acquiescence. You slide out from under your covers until you’re sitting on the floor, rubbing your eyes. You don’t bother hanging up as you set your phone on the nightstand before crawling over to the door, just close enough that you can reach up and unlock it. 

You sit back on the floor, hair mussed and still in your pajamas. The door slowly swings open, Gaz leaning against the doorframe. He smiles softly down at you as you yawn, blinking up at him sleepily. 

“That’s cute, but if we don’t get to breakfast, Price might send the cavalry searching.” He says. 

You grumble, pushing yourself up to stand before you grab a sweatshirt and shoes, running your fingers through your hair to make it at least semi-presentable. 

You lean against Gaz as you walk to the mess, resting your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. It’s quieter in the mess than normal, Gaz leading you through the line to get food, making your tray for you before you shuffle over to the table where the others are. You sit down next to Price, letting out a yawn as you stare sleepily down at your tray. 

“Was starting tae get worried about ye.” Soap grins at you. 

“Yeah, heard her phone vibrating but not me knocking for fifteen minutes.” Gaz says, taking the seat next to you. 

“I was comfy.” You shrug, picking up your fork. 

“Guess I don’t have to bother asking how you slept.” Price says, grinning fondly down at you. 

“Like a rock.” You say, before taking a bite of sausage. 

“Good.” He says, almost beaming with pride that your little shopping spree yesterday worked, and that the added comfort in your room helped. 

Your face warms under his gaze, practically able to feel him preening with pride. It makes something twist in your stomach, knowing that you made him feel that way. 

The moment is broken as Ghost sighs, standing from the table to dump his tray and leave the mess. 

Soap shakes his head as you watch him go, a frown pulling at your brows. “Don’ mind him. He could do with some soft blankets and more pillows of his own.” 

The image of Ghost curled up with fluffy blankets and a stuffed strawberry of his own has you laughing loudly, not even bothered by the looks you get from the tables around you. 

You lounge against Gaz’s chest, his arm wrapped around your chest. Your back vibrates every so often as he chuckles at something that happens on the TV. You’re focused on your book, content with a lazy Sunday afternoon. 

“Don’ you two look cozy,” Soap says entering the rec room. “Don’ mind me.” He kneels on the couch next to your feet before flattening himself out between your legs until his head lands in your lap. 

Your cheeks warm as he sighs out a breath, making himself comfortable. You set your book aside, electing to run your fingers through his mohawk. You wonder if you can put him to sleep that way like you almost achieved with Gaz. He lets out a content hum as your nails scratch at his scalp, running your fingers over the short cropped sides of his head. 

You let yourself relax further against Gaz, absentmindedly massaging Soap’s scalp. Your gaze is on the TV but you’re not really watching, too caught up in the bliss of the moment to really care. 

The moment is ruined as Soap’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He lets out a groan, shuffling around to fish it out, lifting his head to stare at the screen. 

“Have to take this.” He murmurs, pushing himself up off of your lap.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips before leaning over your shoulder, kissing Gaz. Your eyes widen as he leaves the room, your heart starting to race. Of course they kiss each other. It’s probably the most natural thing in the world to them. You’ve just never seen it. 

Much less be stuck in the middle of it. 

The images begin to flood your mind, your face getting warmer and warmer. The mental imagine of being sandwiched between them while they kiss over your shoulder, hands everywhere, skin against skin. 

“Enjoyed that, did you?” Gaz’s voice is husky in your ear, his lips brushing the delicate skin. 

Of course he can smell the hike of sweetness in your scent. His hand drops from where it had been wrapped across your chest, his hand trailing down until it rests against your stomach. His lips press against the sensitive skin beneath your ear, tongue darting out to taste. 

“Soon.” He murmurs, before leaning back, resting against the couch once more. 

Your face is burning hot, heart thumping in your chest. A shiver runs down your spine at the idea, your body relaxing further back against Gaz’s, your stomach fluttering as the warmth of his hand seeps through your shirt. 

You’re ready when he knocks, standing in front of your door again. You open it before he’s finished knocking, his hand falling back to his side. He stares at you for a breath before he turns on his heel, making his way from the barracks. 

You scramble after him as usual, following him into the gym and into the private room. You follow his lead of removing your shoes and jacket, falling into what’s become a routine for the two of you. 

“We’ll work on combos again.” He says, wrapping your hands for you, before his own. 

You go back through what you had done last time, all the combos you’d learned. Well, he told you. You’ve forgotten most of them after the exhaustion and a couple days off. You can tell he’s agitated already as he walks you through the combos, correcting your punches and stance. 

“Move your feet when you punch.” He says, kicking your back leg out from under you, dropping you onto your knee. “Otherwise you’ll hurt yourself.” 

“You’re going to hurt me doing shit like that.” You murmur, fixing your stance again. 

He grabs punch mitts, moving to stand in front of you. He calls out numbers, working through combos and punches. You miss a lot, still trying to memorize which punch belongs to which number and which order to swing your fists in. Part of you wants to drive your fist straight up the middle and into his face. 

A sudden hit to your shoulder sends you sprawling to the mat. You lay there for a second before looking up at him in shock.

“What was that?” You say, getting back to your feet. 

“Dodge or block, just like I taught you.” He says, swinging at you again with the mitt, forcing you back a step. “Your opponent won’t be standing still. You have to know how to throw punches and avoid the ones coming at you.” 

You huff out a breath, trying to stay aware and throw the right punch. You don’t manage to block or dodge every one, your shoulders getting sore as he hits you. He’s not pulling his punches by much, and you can imagine the bruises you’ll sport later. You’re getting tired fast, the combination of the physical effort and the brain power growing to be too much at this intensity so soon. 

A solid hit to the center of your chest as you sprawling out on the mat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a horrible wheezing sound. For a moment you think he might have actually injured you, fear in your eyes as he looms over you. 

“Get up.” He says, shoulders squared like he’s the one in a fight. 

“Give me a second.” You say, still trying to catch your breath. “I need a break.” 

“There are no breaks in a fight.” He says. 

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to think maybe I should just give up and die if I ever get in a fight.” You snap. 

Something flashes through his gaze, the mitts hitting the floor with a thud. He grabs the front of your tank top, lifting you to your feet. He holds you in front of him, leaning down until you’re eye to eye. 

“You think it’s that easy to die? When the time comes you can just lay down and let it happen?” He growls, emotions flickering like flames in his eyes. 

“If this is what it’s going to take to live, then yeah.” You say, not backing down despite the prickling feeling at the back of your neck. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, when death is looming over you. The fear, the regret, the overwhelming push to fight to survive.” He’s close enough that if he wasn’t wearing a mask, you could have felt his breath on your face. 

“I don’t know because I’m not like you. I’m not a fighter, I’m not trained like you. When I asked you to teach me to defend myself, this is not what I meant.” You say, shoving against his chest. 

It takes him by surprise enough that he stumbles back a step. He catches himself easily, hands closing into fists at his sides. He’s ready to fight, you can see it. You’ve unlocked the alpha, angered the beast within him. 

His scent bowls over you, sending you scrambling back out of instinct. The prickling at the back of your neck intensifies and you try to clear your head, preparing you for this fight. You don’t stand a chance, you know that. Going off instinct alone, he could overpower you easily. 

Despite everything in your brain telling you to run away, you do the opposite, racing towards him. He catches you before you can hit him, your feet leaving the ground as he slams you into the mat. You kick and claw at him, catching him in the ribs but it doesn’t even seem to phase him. 

“What was your plan?” He growls, pressing harder against your chest as he keeps you pinned. “Try to take me off my feet? I’m bigger and stronger than you. That’s never going to work.” 

“Then stop being such a dick!” You yell, landing a kick against his hip. “You’re just a bully. A big bully. You’re just like my dad!” 

Both of you freeze at your words, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. His hand closes around the neck of your tanktop and for half a moment you’re scared he might sink his hand in and pull your spine right out through your chest. Instead he releases you, pushing himself up with a growl and making for his shoes. 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he slips them on, grabbing his things before leaving out the door. 

You stare at the door wide eyed as it slams closed. You’re still laying there, chest heaving. You stare at it, half expecting it to open back up, for him to come back. He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? He’s not supposed to. You’re supposed to have one of them with you at all times. 

You push yourself up onto shaky legs, slowly approaching the door, half expecting it to fly back open. Maybe he’s just standing right outside, maybe he’s just taking a breath and clearing his head. The handle is cold against your heated skin as you pull it open, sticking your head out. 

The hallway is empty. 

You quickly duck back inside, closing the door. He wouldn’t leave you. He wouldn’t leave you. Maybe he went to the bathroom. Maybe he just needed a moment to clear his head. Maybe he’s coming back. 

You sink onto the bench, trying to control your breathing as it starts to get heavy. You can feel that buzzing sensation in your head, your fingers and toes starting to go numb with panic. The one time you leave your phone behind, it’s the one time you need it. Maybe he’s coming back. 

You continue to sit there, waiting, fingers trembling as you put your shoes back on. Someone has to notice your absence eventually. Someone will notice you’re not in your room and you’re not answering your phone. Someone will come looking. 

Or is this a test? 

You’re panicking now, breaths coming in short gasps. You can’t just walk out of here using the front door. There’s alphas and betas crawling all over the gym and there could be a hundred between you and the barracks now. Someone will stop you. Someone will make a scene. 

You can’t reach the windows. Even then, they don’t open and it would be a straight drop to the ground on the other side. You can’t go out the front, but there’s an emergency exit just a few feet down the hallway the other direction. The medical center is the closest building to the gym. Even if Dr. Keller isn’t in her office this early, any of them would be the most likely to help you, to alert Price to your abandoned state. 

You have to get out of the gym. Your scent will reach the others in the building eventually, and someone will take notice. Someone will be bold enough to come after the lone omega. You’re panicking, your entire body trembling. Just out the door to the left and through the emergency exit. Then it’s just a few hundred yards to the medical center and then down the hall to Dr. Keller’s office. 

You can make it. You spent three months running with the CIA. Speed has always been your strength. Get out the door before anyone notices. You have to get out before someone notices and blocks your exit. 

Your mind goes blank as you throw open the door, feet slipping as you race around the corner and down to the emergency door. You don’t even feel the ache in your shoulder as you jam yourself against the door, not caring if it sets off an alarm as you shove your way out to the cool morning air. Your feet move without your brain needing to tell you as you sprint towards the medical building. There’s no one outside, no one milling in the area. No one sees you as you race through the doors, the automatic sliding doors almost catching you as you speed through them and down the hall. Your shoes squeak on the laminate floor, squealing as you slide to a stop in front of Dr. Keller’s office. 

You don’t even check if the light is on before you’re frantically knocking. Your breaths are coming in shallow gasps, black dots dancing in your vision as you fight to get air into your lungs. You need to be somewhere safe, you need somewhere safe before you pass out. You can’t pass out in the hallway. It’s not safe. 

You nearly fall as the door swings open, stumbling into the office. Dr. Keller says your name but you barely hear it, your legs giving out. She catches you before you fall, easing you into a chair. You sink into the plushness, shaking violently as you stare at her with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What is it?” She asks. “What happened?” 

“He...he left me!” You sob, your body starting to curl in on itself. “He...he just left me!” 

Dr. Keller’s voice sounds far away as she speaks, your vision starting to tunnel. You barely register the blanket being draped around your shoulders, the soft fabric tickling your cheeks. 

You don’t hear Dr. Keller on the phone, far too gone in your distress to hear the urgency in her normally calm and composed tone. 

Dr. Keller opens the door almost as soon as the knock sounds. Price is slightly out of breath, having reached the office faster than she had expected him to. 

“She’s in distress.” Dr. Keller explains as she lets Price into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him. “I need you to be clear headed.” She tells the alpha. “We can worry about why later, right now we need to get her calmed down, understood?” 

“Yes, Doctor” He nods, fighting the urge to recoil at the sharp bitter tang of omega distress heavy in the air. 

He’s angry, beyond angry but he knows he can’t let that take over right now. 

“You’ll need to hold her.” Dr. Keller says, approaching where you’re sitting on the chair. You’re hunched over, arms clutched to your chest as you gasp and wheeze, almost hyperventilating.  “It might be easiest on the floor.” 

It’s like moving a stone statue as he takes you into his arms, muscles tense and joints locked as your body attempts to protect itself. He sinks to the floor with you in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to support you.

“Slow deep breaths.” Dr. Keller pushes your head against his chest. “Get her to copy you. If her blood pressure gets too high, or she passes out we might risk losing her to her omega, and that will be dangerous for all of us.” 

“I know.” Price says as he puts a hand on your head, keeping you against his chest. “I’ve seen it happen.” He presses his cheek against the top of your head, taking slow, even breaths. “Come on, sweetheart. Alpha’s got you. Need you to breathe for me.” 

Dr. Keller slips a blood pressure monitor around your arm, fighting the stiffness of your limbs as she sticks a pulse monitor to your chest. Price continues to speak to you, trying to get you to relax.

Slowly as the minutes pass, your breathing begins to slow. Dr. Keller monitors your blood pressure and heart rate, watching it slowly begin to come down as the presence of your alpha soothes your distressing omega. 

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your arm gently. 

Your breathing slows, but your breaths are still heavy and shaky as you slowly begin to sink into Price’s hold, your muscles slowly relaxing from their tense state. You let out a high-pitched whine as the discomfort begins to set in, tears leaking from your eyes. 

“I know.” Dr. Keller says gently. “You’re doing so good.” 

You begin to shake uncontrollably again, Price tightening his hold around you. His hand moves to the back of your neck instinctively, gently massaging the tense muscles. 

“It’s just the adrenaline.” Dr. Keller explains, moving to the closet and pulling out a stuffed bear. She kneels back down, working your arms away from your chest just enough that she can slip the bear into your arms. “Squeeze that for me.” She says, pushing on your arms until you take over, squeezing the bear to your chest. 

You’re still crying as the shaking slowly begins to subside, another whine leaving your lips. You continue to squeeze the bear to your chest, brows pulling into a frown. 

“Don’ feel good.” You slur, taking a deep breath in. 

“I know, honey, I know.” Dr. Keller says, squeezing your leg. “You did really good, coming down from that. Just keep breathing and relaxing for me.” 

You continue to follow Price’s breathing, trying to will your muscles to relax in your exhausted state. Price continues stroking the back of your neck, his heart thumping steadily beneath your ear. 

“One more squeeze on your arm and then I can take the monitor off.” Dr. Keller says, taking your blood pressure one more time. “It’s normal if she’s a bit achy and sore for a couple days.” She explains to Price. “She might be a bit disoriented later too. The best thing she can do is rest and someone should stay with her at all times just in case.” 

Price leans his chin against your head, fighting the anger building within him. Something happened to cause this, and he has an inkling as to what it was. He tightens his hold around you as you sink into him even more, the shaking starting to subside. 

“You don’t sedate for distress?” He asks as Dr. Keller removes the heart monitor and the blood pressure cuff from you. 

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “Sedation can make distress worse in some cases. It’s jarring and disorienting and in some cases the omega might wake up and continue distressing. It’s only useful in cases of an actual medical emergency, or if there’s no alpha to provide a sense of safety and the omega starts to take over. Then they become a danger to everyone around them and themselves.” 

“I know how devastating that can be.” He says, staring down at you. “The worst people in the world like to use omegas as shields and bait. Sometimes there’s no other way...they get caught in the middle of bullets flying and explosions. The scent of blood and fear around them.” He shakes his head. “Even if they survive that, even if you save them, it’s too much and you just lose them to the omega.” 

“It makes me sick.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “They’re human beings just like you and me and they get treated like chattel. They’re seen as nothing but property and valued only by what they can be used for. Omegas are incredible beings. In ancient cultures they were revered, worshiped. Some cultures believed they were closest to the gods, and some thought they were gods sent to earth to bless those that deserved it. How far humanity has fallen.” 

“You have a lot of respect for omegas.” Price says. 

“Respect, love, care. Someone in this world has to. That’s why I became a specialist.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Didn’t think I’d end up here, but if I can help even just one omega, that’s more than enough for me.” She pushes herself up to stand. “Let’s get her back to the barracks. She’ll be more comfortable in a familiar atmosphere.” 

Price pushes himself to stand, keeping you close to his chest. Dr. Keller locks her office behind her before following Price as he carries you from the medical center. 

“She needs to eat.” Dr. Keller says. “She won’t feel like it, but she needs the calories after that. She might be emotional and resistant for a bit, but once she’s fully awake she’ll be alright. Well...that might be a bad way to describe it. If anything happens, or she starts getting worse. Call me.” 

“I will.” Price tightens his grip for a moment, pushing down the anger. He can’t let it take over yet. He still has you to take care of. He still has his omega to look after. 

Dr. Keller opens the door to the barracks for him, watching him walk down the hallway for a moment before turning and leaving. 

Price opens your door, carrying you into your room. He lays you on your bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he steps back out the door. The scent of distress is heavy on him still, as is his building anger. 

“MacTavish! Garrick!” He shouts, both of the beta’s doors opening almost immediately. “Have either of you seen Lieutenant Riley this morning?” 

Johnny frowns, both of them approaching the obviously agitated alpha. “Naw, I havenae seen him all mornin’.” 

“I thought he was training this morning.” Kyle says, a frown pulling at his brows too. “Did something happen?” 

He steps back into your room, the two betas following. Kyle sucks in a breath as he stares at you laying there, seemingly peacefully but the quickly suffocating scent tells him otherwise. He moves to your side, sinking down on the edge of the bed next to you. 

“Wha’ happened?” Johnny asks, a subtle tremble to his voice. 

“There was an incident this morning.” Price says, digging into the very depths of his training to keep his head on straight. “Sent her into distress.” 

“That bastard.” Johnny growls. “When I find him-” 

“Easy.” Price says, putting a hand on the beta’s chest to stop him from his rampage. “You and I are going to get some food and then come back here. Garrick, you stay with our girl. If anything starts to go wrong, you call Dr. Keller first, then me. Then, I’ve got ghost hunting to do.” 

“Ye sure we’re alright, bein’ in her nest like this?” 

“It’s not much of a nest. Besides, our girl needs us.” 

“‘S cozy, that’s for sure.” 

“Could get used to it.” 

You have no control over the whine that’s pulled from your chest as you’re thrust into consciousness. You feel a bit like you’ve been hit by a truck, tossed from an airplane with no parachute, and like you just ran a marathon with no training, all at once. 

“Easy, love.” 

Hands smooth over your face, calluses rough on your burning skin. You feel hot, yet not warm enough at the same time. Your skin is prickling, needing freedom but to be held tighter than you already are. Someone is in front of you, their hand the one on your face. Someone else is behind you, wrapped around your back, arms keeping you held tightly against them. 

“Can ye open yer eyes for me, pretty girl?” 

Your eyelids feel like they’re made of lead. You don’t want to. You want to keep your eyes closed and sink back into oblivion where nothing hurts and you’re not confused. You let out another quiet whine before you force your eyes open, staring up at the blurry shape above you. 

“That’s it, lovely.” Soap says, his fingers still stroking your face. “That’s a good girl.” 

“Soap?” You whine, your voice cracking. 

He shushes you, tucking your face against his neck, letting you inhale his scent. “We've got ye, lamb.”

Another hand trails down your arm, gently squeezing. You're sore, even your breaths make your body ache. 

“You remember what happened, love?” Gaz says quietly, his hand the one gently stroking your arm. 

You inhale sharply, trying to clear the fog in your mind. “Ghost...” You breathe, the images coming to your mind but the words are lost. “Left me.” 

“Aye.” Soap says, sounding hurt and disappointed. “He was being a right bastard and left ye in the gym alone. Ye ran for the med center. Found the doctor.” 

“I...” You take a shaky breath, remembering the panic, the feeling of getting further and further from your body. “I was distressing.”

Gaz hums, wrapping his arms around you. “You distressed, love. Dr. Keller got Price in there in time, worked you through it.”

You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself go limp between them. It makes sense why you feel so awful, why your head is swimming. “What time is it?”

“Just after lunch.” Gaz says. 

“Gave us hell tryin’ tae feed ye.” Soap says. “Half fightin’ us, half out of it.” 

“Ghost?” You ask, almost afraid to find out the answer. 

“Got quite the verbal lashing from Cap'n Price.” Soap says. “Was gone for an hour yellin’ at him.”

It doesn't feel like enough, but you won't admit that out loud. You lean back against Gaz, letting both of their scents wash over you. 

“How do you feel, love?” Gaz asks. 

“Hurts.” You murmur, wrapping an arm around Soap. 

“I know. I'm sorry you had to go through this.” Gaz says pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Just relax, love. We've got you.” 

You let your eyes slip closed again, relaxing between the two betas. You don't care that they're in your room, squished together in your bed with you. You need them and their support. 

You'd prefer having Price too, but you won’t dare say that out loud.

You fade in and out of sleep, letting them help you up a couple times as they move around, and move you around, helping you stretch to ease the ache in your joints and muscles. You wind up laying on Soap as Gaz goes to get dinner, his arms wrapped around your middle as you rest on his chest. 

“I am sorry about Simon.” He says quietly, lips brushing your forehead. 

“Don’t apologize for him.” You murmur. “It was partially my fault. I was egging him on.” 

“He shouldnae done tha’ though.” Soap says. “Leavin’ ye like that. ‘S dangerous, and not just for you.” 

“I did good. I got out without running into anyone.” You say, trying to reassure yourself before you lose it again. 

“You did perfectly.” A voice says, making you jump. 

Soap gently rubs your back as you blink up at Price. He’s standing in the doorway, holding two trays of food. You hadn’t even heard the door open. 

“Go on and eat in the mess, Johnny.” Price says, setting the trays on your desk. “I’ve got her for now.” 

Soap gently eases you off of him, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with Price. He carries over a tray, setting it on your nightstand before kneeling down in front of you. He turns on your lamp, illuminating the room more than it was with your nightlight and the fading light outside. 

“How do you feel?” He asks, taking your hand in his. 

“Sore.” You say, squeezing his fingers. “But less than I was earlier. Moving around helped.” You sniffle, wiping the tear that escapes. “A bit weepy too.” 

Price smiles softly at you. “That’s expected. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.” He cups your face. “You did the right thing, taking the back exit and going for Dr. Keller’s office.” 

“Was closer.” You murmur. “Less risk of running into someone.” 

Price nods. “I doubt anyone would have stopped you, but that is still a risk.” He grabs the tray from the nightstand. “Eat up. I know you don’t feel like it, but you need it.” 

It’s almost like he read your mind. He moves to your desk, sitting in the chair. The food looks less appetizing than usual, but you know he’s right. Omegas expend a lot of energy while in distress. You’ll feel better if you eat. From the sounds of it, Gaz and Soap had attempted to feed you while you were still out of it, though you’re not sure how successful they were. 

You eat mostly in silence, but you don’t mind. You don’t have the brain power to think enough for a conversation, and you’re more than happy to just bask in Price’s calming presence. 

Gaz and Soap return after dinner, Price taking his leave again. You’re sure he’s busy, especially after this incident, but you can’t help but feel the sting of it just a bit. He had helped you through your distress, calming you down. You want him to lay next to you, to hold the back of your neck and remind you that he’s here, that he’s got you. 

That he’ll never leave you like that. 

Instead you curl up between Soap and Gaz, letting the calming present of betas relax you back to sleep. 

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up. Soap is gone, but Gaz is still pressed against your back, breathing evenly. You grab one of the phones off the nightstand, glancing at the time. It’s just past one a.m. You’re feeling thirsty again, and like you need to stretch your legs. Gaz is coiled around you, and you’re not sure how to get out without waking him up. You don’t want to disturb him, and you want a second to breathe and clear your head without the influence of his scent. 

You carefully roll away enough to grab the strawberry pillow off the floor from where it likely rolled after Soap left. You slowly ease it between your bodies until he’s wrapped around the pillow, settling with a sigh. You let out a quiet breath, rising from the bed slowly and padding quietly to the door. Your eyes are on him as you unlock it, slipping out quickly. You leave it cracked open before sneaking down the hallway towards the rec room. 

It’s quiet in the barracks, almost eerily so as you slip into the empty room, heading for the fridge. You stand there, half debating on a beer instead of water. Perhaps a little alcohol might numb at least some of the ache in your joins, or at least clear your mind a bit. You hate the taste of beer, though, and Gaz would know immediately. 

You sigh, grabbing a water, the back of your neck prickling as you stand up. You close the fridge door, whirling around, a scream caught in your throat. 

“Are you going to scream?” Ghost’s voice rumbles from behind his mask. He’s standing just inside the rec room, blocking the doorway. 

“Are you going to hurt me?” You ask, flattening yourself against the fridge. 

“Why would I do that?” He has the gaul to sound almost confused. 

“You seemed pretty eager to this morning.” You say, clutching the water bottle to your chest. “You abandoned me.” 

“I didn’t. I was right behind you the whole time, until you went into the med center.” He explains, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” You snap, getting agitated by the alpha and how he’s treated you thus far. “You just up and left me by myself in a vulnerable place. How was I supposed to know you were still there? For all I knew you were halfway back to the barracks. Was I just supposed to blindly trust that you would be there, that you would follow me if I decided to brave walking past a bunch of worked up alphas? I can’t trust that. I can’t trust you like that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you haven’t given me a reason to!” You almost shout it, just managing to keep control over your volume so you don’t accidentally wake the others. “You don’t like me, you keep treating me like shit. Just going off of that, I wouldn’t put it past you to just up and leave me to fend for myself.” 

“I wouldn’t.” 

“But you did! You did today! You put me in danger! I distressed because of you! I haven’t distressed since-” You cut yourself off, deflating a bit at your near slip of words. You’re not sure you want to open that can of worms, allow for that kind of vulnerability with the alpha that had nearly killed you earlier. But, maybe you do need that kind of vulnerability. Maybe he needs it. “Since I was taken to the institute.” You finish, feeling yourself deflating a bit. 

Tears prick at your eyes, his own figure visibly deflating a bit. That scent is back, the one from a couple nights ago when you had run into him in a similar situation. You want out of here, you want back to the safety of doors around you, doors that could be opened and Ghost pulled from you easily if needed. 

“Move.” You say, bravely squaring up to the alpha blocking you in. 

He says your name like a warning, not budging an inch. 

“Move!” You shout, going for his middle with your shoulder, but he’s faster, catching you before you can hit him. 

“Calm down.” He growls, trying to hold your squirming form. 

One scream. One scream and the others would be on you. How quickly could Ghost act, though? How quickly could his hand close around your throat and squeeze, or maybe even twist? 

“Calm down!” He growls again, forcing you backwards. 

Your feet slip on the tile, sending you back onto your back. You wince at the jolt to your already sore body, the air leaving your lungs in a harsh gasp. Ghost sinks down to the floor next to the couch, leaning against the side of it like he can’t bear to hold himself up anymore. 

“It was a long time ago.” He starts, the tiredness evident in his voice. His eyes are on the floor in front of you, not even looking up as you push yourself up onto your elbows. “Back when I was a newly made Sergeant. My first deployment, first mission. We were hunting a man, real scum of the earth, chasing him through the jungle.” 

You almost want to stop him, unsure if he can even be telling you this, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. 

“Things got complicated when he swept through a village, picked up all the local omegas. He was using them as human shields. We cornered him in some run down shack. Him, his men, and the poor omegas. The commanding officer in charge of the mission started hostage negotiations, tried to get him to let the omegas go. He knew he’d lost, he’d never get out of there without being captured or killed.” Ghost shakes his head, letting out a heavy breath. ��So he agreed. The commanding officer had to have known. We all should have known.” 

He goes silent, the quiet of the barracks and the world outside almost eerie. You’re sitting up now, almost holding your breath in anticipation. You’re not sure he’s ever spoken this much to you at once before, much less something that’s obviously so vulnerable, and potentially confidential. 

“He sent the omegas out in all directions, running straight at us. We were ordered to stay where we were. We couldn’t run out there, we couldn’t help them.” His hands close into fists, his scent souring. “They started firing at the omegas. There was one running straight at me. I still remember her, the look on her face. The fear in her eyes as she raced towards me.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember how the blood felt splattering on my face. The bullet shot right past my ear. She fell close enough I could have reached out and touched her. Clean shot right through the back of her head.” 

He shakes his head, finally looking at you. Tears have gathered in your eyes as you stare at him. His scent is sour, tinged with the tanginess that you had smelled a couple nights ago when he ran into you coming back from the rec room.

Fear. 

That scent is fear. 

“I still think about it. What if I had disobeyed orders? What if I had just reached out to help her? Would she have made it? Could we have brought at least one omega back to that village? Would the bullet have hit me instead?” He lets out a long breath. “I still have nightmares about it. See it clear as day, that look on her face seconds before her life ended.” 

You’re moving, crawling closer to him. He doesn’t move, not even a blink or a flinch as you get closer and closer until you’re in front of him, close enough to see the light blonde color of his lashes. He still won’t look at you, his gaze on the floor as you sit in front of him. 

“You saw me.” You say softly, not needing him to explain further. “Instead of some omega, it was me in your dream. You’re afraid. That’s why you treat me the way you do. You’re scared if you get close to me, if you allow me into the pack, allow me into this life, that something like that will happen to me. That’s why you were afraid that night, when I went to the rec room to grab water. You woke up from a nightmare about me.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You’re beginning to understand him now. One moment of vulnerability and the complex specter that is Ghost is beginning to become clearer and clearer to you. He’s beginning to take shape, forming out of the mists of confusion and aggression that have plagued you since your arrival in his life. 

“That doesn’t make what you did okay.” You say, breaking the eerie silence again. “It doesn’t make the way you treat me okay, but I guess...I guess I can understand why now. Why you’re so hard on me, why you resist my mere existence here. You don’t have to like me, I’d just like you to be nice to me a little bit. You’re never going to convince Soap not to pursue anything, so, you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.” 

The corners of his eyes crease. It’s a half a second of movement, but you manage to catch it. He finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes emotionless as they usually are when they look at you. 

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did.” You say, staring up at him. “And I don’t trust you,” You pull your knees up to your chest. “But I suppose I was also a bit at fault, saying those things to you.” 

“I deserved it.” He says. “I was being a dick.” 

Your brows raise as you stare at him. “Are you...apologizing?” 

“Don’t rub it in.” He says, the warning clear in his tone. 

“Well, I guess it’s a start.” You say. “I should probably get back to bed before Gaz notices I’m gone.” 

Ghost lets out a huff. “I’m surprised you escaped without him noticing.” 

You shrug, pushing yourself up to stand slowly. “He’s snuggling a stuffed strawberry right now, so...that probably says a lot about one of us and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

“Come on.” Ghost motions with his head. “Last thing we need is another panic at 2 am.” 

“Another panic?” You ask, dropping your voice to a whisper as you leave the rec room. 

Ghost chuckles. “You’ll have to ask Johnny about that one.” 

You stare at him for a moment as you stand in front of your cracked door. “Goodnight, Ghost.” 

He nods to you before you slip in, closing and locking the door. He stands there, listening to the bed shift as you crawl back into Kyle’s hold. He can picture the way the beta’s limbs coil around you like a snake. Would you lie facing him and cling to him like a koala? Or would you prefer facing away from him, letting him envelop you in a feeling of security and protection? 

Ghost shakes his head, inhaling the faint whiff of your scent still in the air before he turns, staring at his door for a moment before moving back down the hall, slipping into Johnny’s room instead. 

Taglist:

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[luveline]

could you pleaseee do more hotch x bombshell reader

cw suggestive —you and Hotch have a shared secret you’re hiding from the rest of the team. fem, 1k

“He’s too old for you, you know.” 

You give Elle a charmed smile. “He is not.” 

“Is too.” 

“How old do you think I am, Greenaway?” you tease. “I know I look good for my age, but I’m fully developed. He is not too old for me.” 

“Who?” Spencer asks, placing down his dinner tray with a smile. 

“Gideon,” you say. “What do you think, babe, do I have a chance with our great leader?” 

“No,” Spencer says, giggling as he spears a dehydrated looking green bean with his fork. He’s getting good at recognising jokes for what they are. 

As the younger (but, despite Elle’s insistence, not young) crowd, you have complimentary avoiding of work to do, free with your employment. You spend your lunch hour trying to stretch it into two, driving Gideon insane, and prompting Hotch to come and find you. He hasn’t appeared yet, but when you check your watch you’ve got about ten minutes left until you need to get back. 

“The line was so long,” Spencer says. “They could reduce the foot traffic in here by half if they had two people working the register.” 

“Maybe if we had our own offices we could eat our lunch alone from a brown paper bag like everybody else does, and we wouldn’t need to line up,” Elle says wryly. 

“You don’t like lining up like middle schoolers?” you ask in feigned shock. 

“I don’t,” Spencer says earnestly. 

“She’s being sarcastic,” Elle says. “You couldn’t tell?” She looks over your shoulder suddenly, but there’s a velvet voice in your ear before you can turn around.

“Can I borrow you?” 

You smile because he can’t see it. “That depends, Agent Hotchner, will I get to finish my lunch?” 

You don’t have a tray in front of you. It clearly doesn’t matter to Hotch. “I’ll take care of it.” 

You’d let him drag you around by the collar, but that’s none of his business. You turn to meet his eyes over your shoulder, disappointed that he’s already a few steps back waiting for you to stand up. 

What Elle doesn’t get, what nobody seems to see but you, is that Hotch had no need to lean in and talk so close to your ear. He could have sent you an email, paged you, and he’s here in the cafeteria waiting for you to follow him out. 

You send both Elle and Spencer a suggestive look and climb off of the bench. Hotch senses when you’re near rather than looking, starting out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the elevator bank. He does a sharp turn you aren’t expecting to the photocopying rooms, where you refuse to go, lest you get killed by a falling stack of printer paper. One minute you’re walking together and the next he’s taken your hand and pulling you into an alcove, suddenly sliding his hand behind your back. 

“Aaron–”

He dips his face down and kisses you. It’s surprising and not, one slight nipping kiss before he looks you in the eyes. He’s asking if you’re alright to be kissed, and if it’s him, he can shove you up against a wall —you lift your head and he pulls you right back up to be kissed again. His hands slide over the tight fabric of your blazer and hold you chest to chest, his nose crushing yours, his lips unwavering. Pinpricks of heat ricochet from your mouth to your neck, a shudder he feels that has him laughing hot against your lips.

“That’s not very gentlemanly,” you say, weaving your fingers into the soft crop of hair behind his ears. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. He lifts his hand, cleaning the smudge of your lipstick with his pinky finger, before stroking your cheek with his knuckle.  “What sort of note was that, this afternoon? Why do you think that’s alright to leave at my desk?” 

“How’d you know it was me?” you ask, dropping your hands from his hair to poke at his waist. 

“I hoped it was you,” he admits. He looks like he might say something else, but he steals a rough kiss instead, and then another. 

“Okay,” you say, pleased to be kissed like this by him, “it was me. And you deserved it.” 

“Did I?” He takes your face into two hands. “Did I?” 

You stutter momentarily at his repeated question. “You– yeah, Hotchner, you did. It was supposed to be nice, like a promise.” 

“Are you promising?” he asks, giving your cheek a sweet, gentle stroke with his thumb. 

You kiss his nice jaw, ruffle the hair that curls over his forehead playfully, and laugh as he catches your hand. He doesn’t grab. Hotch isn’t ever aggressive with you (though he can get a little excited). 

“Decide what you want for dinner tonight, and we’ll go after work,” he says, returning your hand gently to your side. 

“Another kiss?” you ask. 

Hotch kisses you sweetly. “Come on, honey, lunch is over.” 

“Just one more?” you ask. 

He falls for it every time. You must harvest half a dozen extra kisses, incensed because it’s him, because nobody thought for a minute he’d bend to your whims. 

Hotch doesn’t bend. He just wants you like you want him. 

“One more,” he says as you pull away. “Just one.” 

It tickles your lips. You curl your arms behind his neck and try to make it one that’ll linger, your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp as he presses your back to the cold wall. You yelp a laugh and he covers your back with big hands, mumbling a sorry that gets completely lost. 

You don’t know how he’s going to explain this to Gideon. 

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[darkbluekies]

God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you. 

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him. 

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob. 

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply. 

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth. 

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared. 

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly. 

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat. 

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly. 

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly. 

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints. 

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him. 

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says. 

“Why?” 

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist. 

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food. 

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down. 

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg. 

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb. 

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut. 

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear. 

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters. 

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic. 

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman. 

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks. 

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face. 

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes. 

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly. 

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours. 

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks. 

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him. 

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him. 

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you. 

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way. 

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry. 

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower. 

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather. 

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain. 

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough. 

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you. 

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.

[lewisvinga]

L.O.V.E | alex albon x fem! reader x lily muni he

summary; no matter how many times they try to send hints, y/n couldn’t understand alex and lily’s advanced until a certain pair of brits decided to help their friends out

fc; znefer_ on ig

warnings; cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

note; requested !

masterlist !

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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others !

yourusername: in my pilates princess era 🩰🌷

username: here before alex and lily simp over y/n

username: their comments are the highlight of my day tbh

alex_albon: you’re the prettiest princess💗

yourusername: why thank u albono🫶🫶

username: girl….

lilymhe: wow😍😍😍😍😍

yourusername: lilssss💖💖

username: she probably just thinks lily is just simply complimenting her omg bless her 😭😭😭😭

username: ugh she’s gorgeous no wonder lily and alex r obsessed w her😩

username: pilates girlies>>>>

username: the headband + straight hair combo rlly eats

username: I LOVE U Y/N

carmenmmundt: take me to pilates w you next time!!

yourusername: lmk when you’re freeeee

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liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, and others

yourusername: g’morning 🤎

alex_albon: good morning, how’d u sleep pretty girl🥰

yourusername: amazing! thank u for asking alexxxx💗💗

username: he’s DOWN BAD LMAOO

lilymhe: bed must’ve been pretty cold, bet i know a few people who can warm it up😁

yourusername: surprisingly cats emit a lot of body heat!!😅😅

username: y/n not taking the hint, fork found in kitchen

username: the hair is HAIRING

username: im in tears alex and lily try soooo hard😭😭😭😭

username: isn’t it weird that they both like y/n?

username: who gaf as long as it makes them happy 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

username: the hair😍😍

username: she’s so pretty i rlly understand why alex n lily are so obsessed 😩

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others !

yourusername: i finally got the hint ??!!

tagged; alex_albon, lilymhe

lilymhe: hey pretty girl ur alllll ours now😁🤭

yourusername: alllll yours 💗 luv u

lilymhe: LUV U MY PRETTY GIRL😩😩💗💗💗💓🧡❤️💙🤎💕💕💖💖❤️❣️💜🩶

username: i think she broke lily

username: LMAOOO LILY😭😭😭

alex_albon: don’t know how many ‘you’re such a good friend!’ i could handle before going crazy, doesn’t matter now bc now we have you😌❤️❤️

yourusername: i would like to sincerely apologize for bein so slow😞😞 but at least u both have me :p ! 💓💓

username: finally she admits she was being slow i thought us talking abt their crushes in her comments was enough for her to get the hint 😭😭

username: OMG FINALLYYY

username: lily and alex’s patience fr worked

username: ugh they’re all so fine

username: it only took you months babe !!!

georgerussell63: uhm EXCUSE ME???

landonorris: ikr😒😒😒😒

yourusername: thank u guys for making me realize the truth😁

alex_albon: i can’t believe these dumbasses fr did it

lilymhe: THANK U BOTH

landonorris: fuck u alex_albon WE PLAYED CUPID FOR YOU

username: not lando and george helping 😭

username: my 2019 rookies ❤️‍🩹

username: george and lando are so sassy LMAOO

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo (coming soon)

Theodore (coming soon)

[dira333]

Latte me be your lover - Iwaizumi x reader

requested by @ur-local-simp - tagging @shoulmate for reasons

Haikyuu taglist: @lees-chaotic-brain

"A hot coffee for a hot guy."

You roll your eyes. Hajime just thanks the barista and steps to the side to let you through.

The very second he turns away the smile drops from her lips and she scowls at you. But you've been anticipating it, your own smile saccharine sweet.

It's like this wherever you go. They hit on Hajime until they realize he's not coming alone. Some of them are embarrassed at your sight, others... not so much. And it's not like you're his girlfriend by any means - well, except the means of where you dream about it every night - but they don't know that, right?!?

-

"Are you going to call them?" You ask as soon as some caffeine has entered your bloodstream.

"Who?" Hajime grabs your hand and pulls you back, narrowly saving you from stepping into dogshit. Ugh.

"The barista. She wrote her number on your cup."

"She did?" He furrows his brows as he inspects the little paper thing that's wrapped around his cup to keep him burning his hands.

The amount of smugness you feel when he slips it off and uses it to pick up the dogshit and throw it away is insane. If only you could go back and tell her. Also, your crush is seriously environmentally motivated. Go, Hajime!

-

"One Latte Machiatto with extra Caramel drizzle," Hajime tells you before turning back to the girl ordering. "Anything else?"

"Your number?" She purrs, completely disregarding the line forming behind her.

"What number?" Hajime asks, stiff as a board. From where you're standing you can tell how tense his shoulders are. Bless him.

"Your phone number, duh," she laughs and you have to admit, she's really pretty. Her teeth are a little too white for your taste, though, but you know she'd be Oikawa's type. If only she'd come in yesterday when you had to endure his whining for a whole shift. It's not your fault he cannot get a girl.

"Sorry," you slip up to him, press into his side like a cat. Breathe, you scream at him in your thoughts, but your smile is sweet as you hand her her drink. "He's taken."

-

"Are you sure?" Terushima asks.

"Absolutely," you tell him, willing Hajime to work a little faster.

"You didn't even give me a chance." Terushima's not above begging to get a date, it seems. "I got a tongue piercing, you know." He sticks out his tongue but all you can hear is the splish-splash-clatter of someone dropping a drink. When you turn, Hajime's already on his knees, red-faced, wiping up the remnants of what was supposed to be Terushima's coffee order.

Terushima grins knowingly back at you. "So, since I have to wait a little longer..."

"No," you tell him, stone-faced, "Never."

"Come on!" He whines. "Like, one date?" His eyes flicker to where Hajime's disappearing in the back. "We could make him jealous."

Heat errupts in your cheeks. You knew you'd been pretty obvious in your advances, but this takes the cake.

"Don't ever ask me again," you tell him through your clenched teeth, seconds away from stabbing him with a fork. "You get me?"

He laughs, carefree and easy as if this doesn't matter to him at all.

"All good, all good. Say, do you have the number of your coworker? The cute one with the blond hair?"

You harrumph. "Give me yours," you insist, "I'm not giving out Yachi's number to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger," he defends himself, "We've been in a class for more than a year. But here," he makes a whole show of it, scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to you, "My number. Take care of it."

You snort and tuck it into your pocket, only realizing Hajime's back when he clears his throat awkwardly behind you.

-

Hajime's been distant for the past week.

It's not unusual not to hear much from him for a few days, especially during exam season. You don't think much of it at first, because even though you've been crushing on him for the better part of your three-year friendship, you both still have a life outside of each other and the hell-hole you call work.

But then you're suddenly working your Monday shift with Makki instead of him. You've never worked Mondays without him. It's the worst day to work except maybe the weekend and he had to pinky promise to never let you down when the boss asked who'd cover it - you got free weekends but still, are pinky promises nothing worth anymore?

"Where's Hajime?" You ask Makki. The guy only shrugs. But he's been Hajime's friend longer than he's been yours so you don't think he'd tell you even if he knew.

On Wednesday you work with Mattsun. And boy, does he know what's going on. You can read it in the tilt of his eyebrows, the curve of his mouth.

"Spill," you tell him, "Or I'll never give out your number to cute girls again."

"I have a girlfriend," he replies lazily. You narrow your eyes at him.

"And apparently so do you," he continues, "Or rather, a boyfriend."

You furrow your brows. "Since when?"

"I don't know..." He doesn't seem to take this seriously at all. "I'm just telling you what Iwaizumi told me."

"Hajime told you I have a boyfriend."

"Mhm," he smiles brightly. "And then he asked to switch shifts with me."

-

Hajime has the decency to look guilty. He's ducking his head and it's probably only his manners that keep him from shutting the door on you.

"Why did you tell Mattsun I have a boyfriend."

He grimaces, but his mouth stays closed.

"Hajime," you insist, voice low, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Maybe not yet," he argues, "But Terushima..."

"That's what this is about?" You ask, "Terushima asking me out? He's done that for months and I've never shown any interest. What makes you think I would change my mind?"

"You took his number," he tells you, eyes flickering around, lips pushed forward in something like a pout. "And he's got a piercing-"

"Hajime," you say, more than just exasperated, "Girls flirt with you every time you step out of your room. If I cut contact with you every time we wouldn't be friends anymore, would we?"

He flinches a little, but he's too stubborn to give in. Yet.

"No one's flirting with me," He insists, now an angry line between his brows, "You're imagining-"

"I've been flirting with you for the past two years," you add. If you're going down, you're at least going down with everything you've got.

Hajime freezes. His eyes are wide and his hand tries to grab the door but misses.

"You- what?!"

"What do you think writing my first name with your last name means? Or writing your name on my skin pretending it's a tattoo? Or cuddling into you during movie nights?"

"You run cold!" He defends himself, "A-and... And you said my name was pretty!"

"YES!" You huff, "Because I'm in love with you!"

Hajime's mouth opens and closes without any sound coming out. Your heart is hammering painfully against your chest. One more second, you tell yourself, one more second you'll give him before you finally give up.

His hand shoots out, grabs yours, and pulls you inside before you've fully finished that thought.

"Really?" He asks, a shy smile spreading over his face. "Really really?"

"Really really really," you promise, offering him your pinky. "I swear."

-

"Wow, you've got bad taste," you tell Atsumu when he's finished his order. He balks at you, but you snicker and his twin joins your teasing.

"I'll never come to visit you at your job again," he threatens and you shrug. "Sucks to be you, I guess."

"Come on, don't be like that," Atsumu wouldn't be Atsumu if he didn't try and wheedle his way into your favorites again. His eyes flicker to the side and he grins. "Can I at least get your number?"

Hajime's chest slams into your back. You can feel his anger without turning to look.

"She's taken," your boyfriend huffs behind you. "Don't be disrespectful!"

my Kofi if you want to tip me

[meowlod]

arlecchino x fem!reader | mother and father.

(nsfw+trans!arle)

warnings: mentions of having babies, mentions of pregnancy, etc.

Taking care of the children in the Orphanage taken care by ”Father“, you always have been called Mother by the children. They always thought that you‘re the mother, and it makes you feel a little embarrassed. What the Knave say when she comes back from her trip to Snezhnaya and finds out?

“Mama, mama!“ several children call for you. “Where is Father? Mama should never be alone!“ You let out a small sigh, your cheeks burning red. “I..Father is out, okay, my children? She will come back soon.“ You gently tell them, nervously smiling as they continue to call you mama.

You are in the kitchen cleaning the dirty dishes from the children that had eaten earlier, putting the forks and spoons to the correct place. You suddenly heard the door open from the Orphanage, and a familiar face came up running to you.

Furina. What was she doing here? She never came here. It should be something important if she came running to you with a panicked expression. “Hey, hey friend! Ah..this might be so weird to hear from somebody who was once the mighty hydro archon, but..can you please have a talk with the Knave and tell her to stop scaring me?! She always looked so scary and dangerous every time we stared at each other, blehh…“

You sigh and give her a nod. She nods back with a smile and runs out of the orphanage with a small wave before walking out. What was that? She wants you to talk to Arlecchino now? You better hope that she won‘t kill you once you ask her to leave the blue woman alone.

Later, you‘re in the main room playing games with the children after you‘ve done all the dishes. You‘re currently sitting next to a couple children, until you heard a sudden opening noise. The door opens and the children happily shout out to you “Mama, look! Father is back!“

You quickly try to shush the child, but the other children continue to call you mother, right infront of the Knave herself.

”Hmm?“ She stares at you with curiousness, then at the children. Mother? She thought. Having children is something she wouldn‘t mind, especially with you, If she only could. If they call you mother, you must be special to them.

”Father, mama has been waiting for you!“

You get flustered and stand up to greed Arlecchino. ”A—ah..Knave, i‘m glad you‘re back..i‘m sorry, these children won‘t stop calling me mama, or mother..“ Scratching your head, you look away with a shy smile, two children hugging your legs while they stare at Arlecchino.“

“It‘s alright. I suppose you took care of them and they did nothing wrong?“ She asks with her stern, gentle voice, looking into your eyes with her red X pupils. God, they get you scared, but they‘re so pretty.

You chuckle nervously. ”Y—yeah, Knave. The children have been behaving very well. No fighting, no stealing, nothing. They have been extra good today..“

“Ah, that is great.“ From the answer she had gotten, her lips form into a slight smile, and walks past you to her office, patting your shoulder one last time. ”I want you in my room, 1 AM. Don‘t be late.“

Huh? Your eyes widen, cheeks forming a red blush as you stand there flustered. You nod before going into your own room that Arlecchino had given you to rest in. You take off your working skirt and your other clothes to change into your night glown.

Its a few hours until you have to meet the Knave in her room, so you can do anything else before the ”meeting”. You lay down on the bed, turning on your phone and messaging one of your friends who you gossip with everyday.

A few hours later, you forgot about meeting the Knave as you do stuff with your phone. But a message notification pops up on your phone. It‘s Arlecchino.

You click on the notification and it brings you to the chat.

> “You‘re late.“

> ”I‘m sorry! I‘ll come right now.“

You message quickly back before putting your phone on the desk and open the door, walking towards Arlecchino‘s room. You knock, but nobody answers. Every child is asleep and the hallway is dark, where is she? Before you could continue thinking, arms are wrapped around your waist, the person putting you on their shoulder. You were about to scream before the familiar voice calms you down.

”Be quiet, it‘s me.“

It‘s not a kidnapper, thank god. It‘s the Knave who suddenly creeped up behind you and picked you up. But it‘s so dark, how can she see so good? She has good eyes.

“Y—you really scared me..“ you whisper out as you bury your head into her shoulder. ”I forgot to tell you…Furina told me to tell you that you sh—” She doesn‘t like hearing that womans name. Before you can talk, she opens the door of her room and pushes you down onto her bed. You yelp as she does so.

And this is where you ended up at. In her bed, head pushed against the pillow as muffled moans escape from your mouth from Arlecchino‘s cock pounding in and out of you in a quick pace, looking like she wants to make you pregnant, to make babies with you.

“m—mmgh…! mmfh—a—arle..!“

Your muffled words are shushed as she grips your head and pushes it more down to the pillow, her thrusts becoming faster and harder, you feel her hitting your sweet spots.

Her face comes closer to your ear and she whispers, ”You‘re gonna be taking care of my children, my children, aren‘t you, la mia bella ragazzal?“

You moan from her words, and as you expected, after her last powerful thrust, she squirts inside you, hot cum slowly starting to drip out of your hole after she pulled her dick out, it being still hard.

She flips you around and grips your chin before giving you a aggressive kiss, her other hand moving to one of your breasts, squishing it.

The hand slowly moves down to her cock, gripping it then guiding it against your messy hole once again, getting ready to push it in.

“I‘m not done with you yet, i‘m going to make you a great, lovely mother, la mia adorabile ragazza.“

You‘re not going to feel your legs tomorrow, but she‘s going to take care of you.

[eddiernunson]

"Do You Want One?" | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: your cousin shows you around Hawkins High for your first day, and is surprised to say the least when her sweet cousin hooks onto Eddie Munson. Just seeing him brings a swoop to your stomach you've never quite felt before, and become desperate for more of him.

Warnings: late bloomer!reader, virgin!reader, mentions never having experienced lust of the sort or really understanding what it is, corruption!kink, little praise, taking of virginity, slight perv!eddie

Authors' note: I, myself didn't feel any sort of sexual attraction or lust until i was 15/16. I tried to write the reader innocent without being infantilized. Also, these photos are for aesthetics only, not much of the reader is described, except for height. Also, my editor pulled through, despite her busy schedule, thanks @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you! This is a birthday present to @bebe07011, always one of the first to read <3

Word Count: 9k

The subtle, yet annoying ring of your alarm yanks you out of your sleep, a sleep that took hours to settle into after anxious tossing and turning. A yawn overtakes your body as you sit up, looking around sleepily at the boxes that contain the contents of your room. You whine as the stars overflow your vision from the rubbing of your eye.

Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, tasting the mint of your mouthwash when your mom pushes a bagel into your hand. Most of the kitchen is still in boxes, just a few appliances on the unnaturally bare counters. “Hey, Aunt Karen just called and said Nancy will be here any minute.” She offers, and a part of you feels for the bags under her eyes.

“Thanks.” You say, garbled with a piece of bagel in your mouth.

“Oh, and Mike is being a little testy, so he probably won’t move from the front seat for you.” She laughs, shaking her head.

You shrug, not caring. “I’ve been in the backseat for this long.”

Two honks out the front announce their arrival, and you ignore the anxious reminders she hurriedly spits out as you grab your backpack by the front door, already filled with school supplies from Texas. You shout an I love you to her as the Wheelers’ Station Wagon comes into your sight from the swung open door, finally out of her worried clutches that you’ve been in from the last week straight.

True to Aunt Karen’s word, Mike gave a defiant look when Nancy demanded he get out the front seat. Again, you didn’t care. “Sorry Mike has a ruler up his ass.” Nancy apologizes, her smirk reaching your own in the rearview.

You roll your eyes, a signal that it really doesn’t matter to you.

Hawkins, miniscule in comparison to that of your old home, Houston, passes by in the windows and you huff a sigh out at how much smaller your world has gotten. Your town, your school…you wish you could go back and give a reality check to the girl who patronized Nancy for it on the phone.

As promised, Nancy shows you to the front office and your first few classes. Being the new girl in the middle of a semester is absolute bullshit, but at least it wasn’t Forks, Washington levels of bullshit. That level of attention would’ve had you crawling under a bridge. Thank God only one teacher asked you to introduce yourself to the class. The rest of them couldn’t even be bothered.

Nancy sits alone at lunch, a notepad in her hand next to a near empty lunch tray. One thing you notice is that this school is much more categorized than yours was. It felt straight out of a high school dramedy, one you would criticize for being cliché.

Oh. Maybe it does some have truth to it.

“Hey loner.” You greet her, your butt hitting the hard plastic chair.

“I’m not a loner.” She huffs, hand moving absentmindedly as she writes. “My news team is getting this week’s paper done, we usually get it done during lunch.”

You roll your eyes, having noted the empty space on her tray. “You work too hard.”

“Nope. If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.” She answers, her signature side smirk on her face. Sometimes, only sometimes, Nancy doesn’t really have a serious bone in her body.

You gesture to the cafeteria, opening your fruit cup. “So, tell me about your very categorized cafeteria.”

She laughs, pausing in the middle of the sentence she’s writing. “So. There’s the jocks/cheerleaders, the nerds, the band nerds, drama nerds, science nerds—"

“Those are different from the regular nerds?” You ask, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes.” She deadpans. “Those are the kids without a clique,” she points, a bunch of kids not interacting, shyly nibbling at their lunches. “And finally, where my brother sits. Hellfire.”

It felt dramatic, but the table definitely earned their last but not least position. They stand out from the crowd, not seeming to care about fitting in like everyone else so desperately does. From the looks of it, individually, none of them would fit in the crowd. As a group, they stick out like a sore thumb. They don’t even care.

Nancy seems to be speaking, but she fades into the background. While you tricked yourself into believing you were observing the table, it occurs to you your eyes are fixated on the head of it, your heart beating out of your chest as you stare at him.

Him.

“Who’s he?” You interrupt Nancy, watching as his long frizzy hair curtain over his face. You didn’t even know someone in real life could be this good looking, you were sure it was reserved for celebrities in magazines.

Nancy switches her glance back and forth between your slack jaw and wide eyes and him. “That’s Eddie Munson.” She answers, her voice calculated. “The dork that I complained about Mike copying, remember?”

Your tongue reaches out to lick your lips, staring at him distractedly. A hot feeling in the swell of your gut overwhelms your senses. “You described a wet-rat loser.”

Nancy huffs in abrupt laughter. “That’s cause he is!”

“Him?” You ask, this hot feeling starting to radiate. You notice it’s especially hot in your crotch, a sort of…want you’ve never felt before. You’ve never craved for anyone this badly.

Nancy laughs in disbelief, surprised to say the least that her sweet cousin is openly drooling over Eddie The Freak Munson of all people. “I can put in a good word, if you want.” She teases, smirking at the way your eyes widen in panic.

“No, no, please don’t.” You insist, your eyes finally flickering back to her.

“Fine, you can drool from afar.” She muses. “Oh, lunch’ll be over in a handful of minutes. What’s your next class?”

“History.” You answer, viewing your crumpled schedule. God, not another boring lecture.

Nancy bites her lip, something she’s clearly not willing to share with the class. You don’t ask, still trying to catch your breath.

She walks you across the school to the classroom littered with historical figures and maps. She salutes you, telling you she’ll see you in AP Calculus right after this one. The look on her face never leaves it, she’s always got a secret right under the surface, but this one seemed more entertaining than the rest.

When you enter the classroom, the teacher tells you there’s assigned seats in this one and lucky for you, there’s one seat left. She directs you to the far-left corner, signalling to the one on the right. You shyly ignore the looks on your new classmates faces, all of them observing the face of the new kid who started so late in the year.

New faces are always hard to ignore, it’s just human nature to stare. Still, your stage fright is present in the forefront of your mind.

Your teacher starts the lecture by introducing you as a new kid, offering a wave to everyone that turns their head to look at you. Why can’t teachers just learn to be normal?

Your head is turned down, leaning on your elbow as she starts to explain a concept you’ve already learned last year. Are they sure they put you in a grade 12 class? At least this will be easier than most. Suddenly the heavy door opens, and your heart stutters as the man who’s taken over your every thought stumbles into the room ten minutes late.

“Mr. Munson! How nice of you to join us!” She greets, her scowl indicating that it’s anything but.

“You are so welcome, Miss. Greyson.” Eddie answers, his voice dripping in a tenor tone that sends a shiver down your spine. Not a lick of sarcasm comes from him, answering as if she was genuine.

She sighs, closing her eyes in exasperation. “Just go have a seat.”

Something in you suddenly realizes that the only available seat is right next to yours. A thrill takes over you, biting your lip excitedly as he struts as if he has all the time in the world.

After a brief stint on the projector, Miss. Greyson instructs the class to open their textbooks and answer questions on the following pages. “You may work in pairs.” She answers the many raised hands, and the room is filled by the harsh sound of desks groaning against the floor.

You get up from your desk, leaning into the teacher as she gathers the laminated sheets she had just used for the lesson. “I don’t have a textbook, yet.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She replies, dropping her pile to shuffle off to her desk. “I completely forgot, in all the excitement.” She hands you the textbook that looks about fifteen years old, the spine cracked to oblivion. She leans in as you grab it, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry about the placement of your desk, just ignore him. There was no one I hated in this classroom enough to place next to him.”

You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow, perplexed at her open disdain for him. It reminded you of the tone of voice Nancy had over the phone, wondering if the whole school was really this open about it. “I’ll live.” You answer, and she winks like you two share a secret.

Your textbook lands harshly on the desk, opening it to the page indicated in white chalk written on the blackboard. God, the reading is four pages, and the questions are a paragraph each. This much reading on the downfall of Mycenae? A jarring noise to your left surprises you, looking up to face his desk come closer and closer.

He leans over, a smile on his face that sends a thrill right through you. “So, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He talks low, you spend the time hoping he doesn’t notice the goosebumps that trails over your skin. “Uh, I just started today.” You beg yourself to seem normal, to look him in the eyes like a decent conversationalist. You can’t bring yourself to, no matter how hard you try. Somehow you know when you finally look in those eyes of his, you’ll be too mesmerized to look away.

The printed words on the page make no sense, just a blur of boring text in black and white.

He leans back in his chair; you can feel his eyes planted on you. “Ah, makes sense. I would’ve remembered seeing your pretty face around.”

Oh my god he just called me pretty. Surely, he’s lying? Being in his line of sight and being considered good looking enough to him for him to even glance at was never in your wildest imagination, picturing him glazing right over you. Just a bug on the windshield. You gulp, pretending to be infatuated with the page in front of you instead of the man next to you.

“You shy?” He asks. In the corner of your eye, you see him leaning onto his elbow, his eyes staring a hole in your head.

Finally, you tear your glance off the textbook and onto him. God were you right about his eyes. How can a pair of brown eyes be so captivating? They’re a perfect chocolate brown, his mouth in a lopsided expression that sucks the air out of your lungs. “A little.” You admit, distracted by the sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk.

His limber fingers are dressed in chunky silver rings, the sight of his hands moving distractedly suddenly sends the heat you felt in your stomach earlier into a frenzy, the pull strong and overwhelming. “I can work with that.” A shy smile lands on your face, clenching your teeth as a method of resisting the urge to smile ear to ear. “Can I get a name?”

You tell him and hearing it from his lips is a vice and a half. “And you’re Eddie.” You say before he can introduce himself.

“So, my reputation precedes me.” He laughs, crossing his arms. “Or am I exactly like they said?”

You shrug. “Not exactly.”

His shoulders indicate a silent huff of laughter. “Care to expand on that?”

You shrug again. “You’re just…different.”

The look on his face indicates this answer isn’t good enough, but he doesn’t care to ask you to expand any further. As you work on your homework, finally settling your heartbeat and breathing rate, he writes in a notebook littered with graffiti. His left foot rests on the edge of his desk, the book resting on his thigh as he writes with the dull pencil.

He’s not doing any homework, but he’s at least letting you work on yours. The bell finally rings, dismissing you from your class and the room fills with chatter as everyone packs their bags. “You know where your next class is?”

You shake your head; having told Nancy you could work it out on your own. “Uh, no. It’s AP Calculus with Mr. Warner.”

“Mr. Warner.” He muses, his notebook in one hand and carrying a small metal tin. “Here, I’ll walk you.”

You pause, gulping as your bag rests on one shoulder. “You don’t have to do that.” You insist, suddenly realizing he’s about a whole head taller than you.

He smiles, his gaze making you feel…hot. “I didn’t ask, sweetheart.”

The way you gulp, your wide eyes darting back and forth between his, your teeth biting on your bottom lip nervously, Eddie was startled at the physical reaction and it was all going straight to his dick. The urge to shove his thumb between your pretty, plump lips is overwhelming, to say the least.

“Oh.” You answer, fingernails digging into the strap of your backpack. “Then lead the way.”

Eddie shakes his head, starting down the hallway to the other end of the school. As soon as he reaches the classroom, he turns around, leaning against the locker on his arm, neck hunching over you. Oh god, he’s gorgeous. “Will you let me take you out on a date, tonight?”

Every bone in your body wants to say yes, fingers just itching to reach out and touch his lithe hips. “My mom won’t let me go out on a Monday.”

So, that was not a No. “I would’ve asked for Friday, but I can’t wait that long.”

His admission drives you crazy, that heat ever present. Things like this just don’t happen. “Neither can I.” You admit, feeling scared of the rush that overwhelms you, yet scared of the idea of it never happening. You think quickly, biting your lip. “Think you can pick me up from my cousin’s house?”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans against the locker. “Who’s your cousin?"

“Nancy Wheeler.”

His eyes bug out of the sockets, sighing in disbelief. “You’re cousins with Wheeler?” You nod, wondering if there’s any unspoken animosity between them. “I’ve dropped her kid brother off a few times, I know where she lives. You gonna tell your mom where you’re heading out for the night?”

You shake your head, sure he knows the answer, already.

Eddie huffs, hoping the crotch of his pants won’t give him away. “You ever snuck out before?”

“No.” You answer, looking up as the bell rings. “But I’m sure I can manage.”

You can’t place the expression on his face, somewhere between bewildered and amused.

For the record, it’s pure lust, having just met you and he’s already accidentally convincing you to sneak out for him. He wants you to, wondering if one day you’ll go so far to skip class to have fun with him under the bleachers.

His eyes leer down your body, watching as your skirt dances across your bare thighs while your feet can’t stay in place. He plays with his fingers absentmindedly, just barely resisting the urge to move them past the barrier and watch your face melt in pleasure.

“What time?” Eddie asks, eyes flickering up to your sweet face.

You think about it, knowing you’ll need time to grab at least a dress and get ready at the Wheelers’. “7:30.”

Eddie laughs, turning away from you and back down the hall to where you presumed his class was. “Pick you up at 7.”

“I-I said 7:30!”

“I’ll honk twice!” He answers, hand in his pocket like he didn’t just glue you into place.

The echo of his voice suddenly reminds you the halls are empty, only a few feet away from Mr. Warners classroom. You know more than anyone that AP Calculus students just aren’t late. Maybe he’ll give you grace on your first day.

You ignore the way every set of eyes switch to you, looking around the room for an empty seat. Luckily, Nance has saved one right next to you. “Hi, sorry. Couldn’t find it.”

“That’s alright, take this and have a seat right next to Miss.Wheeler, there.” He offers, gesturing to your cousin.

When the lecture ends and he assigns homework, she gets right to the point. “So, how was History?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes in exasperation. “You knew he’d be there.” You accuse, her grin affirming your assumption completely. “A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Not like you had to speak to him.” Nancy sighs, opening her textbook to the page indicated.

You stare at her pointedly, opening your book to a random page. “I sat next to him.”

Nancy instinctively knows something is up, seeing something was on your mind. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“You’ve barely given me a chance.” You comment sarcastically, looking over at her expectant face. “He…he asked me out.”

To say Nancy is surprised at this development would be simply, an understatement. “I’m sorry?”

You grin, finally letting that smile you’ve been hiding take over. “He’s picking me up at 7.”

“Like your mom will let you go out on a weekday.” She squints, knowing your mom’s tendencies to make you prioritize school over anything else.

“…which is why I need you to cover for me.” You hesitate, grinning shyly when she gives you a look of utter disbelief.

“Seriously?” You nod, pleading with her silently. “Fine. But you owe me big.”

You promise to make it up to her.

When the bell rings signifying the end of the day, your heart beats rapidly as the time for your date comes closer and closer. Nancy said she wouldn’t be able to help with your conundrum of the fact that you’ll need a dress and a way to get from your house to Nancy’s.

As you sit next to her while she writes a rough copy of an article wondering who you could possibly get to drive you. You might be shit out of luck. Like an angel, a freckled redhead appears out of nowhere. “Nance, is that the cousin?” She asks, sitting right across from you.

From the look on Nancy’s face, you’re unsure how close they actually are. “Yep.”

“Cool! I’m Robin, over-sharer, anxiety ridden, fast talker. Nice to meet ya.”

You take her extended hands, sort of hypnotized by her warm green eyes. “You too.”

“Hey, Steve busy?” Nancy asks, a million thoughts behind her head.

“Probably not.” Robin offers, getting up from the table. “Why?”

“Oh, she needs a ride.”

Robin eyes you, a smirk landing on her face. “I can convince him.” She side eyes, gesturing for you to follow.

You follow her around the school to the front where you face a handsome lanky dude sitting impatiently as he waits for his friend. When he turns the window down to ask who you are, you realize he’s not just handsome, he’s hot. God, you’ll have to reprimand Nancy for leaving that detail out. “What’s with the guest?”

“She’s Nance’s cousin. She needs a ride, would you mind?”

“What am I, a chauffeur?” Steve asks, face shifting into a deep scowl.

You stop Robin from responding, having an immediate comeback. “I had to listen to my cousin bitch about you for hours. Hours. I think I deserve a little compensation for my time, don’t you?”

Steve smirks, looking from under the hair falling into his face. “Whatever, get in.”

“Where you need a ride to?” He asks as you get into his backseat.

“My house.” You pause, hesitating to say the second location. “Then Nancy’s house.”

Steve squints suspiciously at you in his rear view. “Why two locations?”

“So my date can pick me up tonight.” You admit, glancing out the window shyly.

Robin turns in her seat, jaw dropping open. “Isn’t this your first day?”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “So?”

“Oh shit.” She glances to Steve and back to you. “Who? Do we know him?”

“Um, probably.”

“We know him.” Robin states.

“Turn here, third house on the left…” you tell him, getting out of his car as soon as it stops.

When you get inside your house, you explain to your mom you are way further behind on school than you thought you were and will need some time to get caught up. She asks how late you’ll be, and when you say midnight, she doesn’t even hesitate to let you go.

Thank god you don’t lie, because this should not be this easy. Your hands ruffle through the box of dresses by your bed, grabbing at a few you know look good on you. They’re stuffed into your backpack, cursing yourself for not unpacking your makeup earlier. Hopefully Nancy will be nice enough to lend you some. (You doubt it.)

You rush a love you out to your mom and back into Steve’s back seat, out of breath from running up and down the stairs so damn fast. God, the things you were doing for your goddamn date.

Nancy only lives down a few blocks from you, thus the easy carpool your moms figured out until you get your car. God, in Houston you could’ve just taken a METRORail, you didn’t need a damn car. You thank Steve profusely, thankful for his saving grace.

You would rather tell every member of Hawkins Senior class personally a fun fact about you than go out with Eddie in the same thing you wore to school. You’re shy, not pathetic.

“You don’t owe him anything if you tell us who asked you out.” She calls out of her open window, face full amusement. “C’mon!”

You wait as they pull forward, Steve shaking his head at his best friend’s shenanigans. “It’s Eddie Munson!” You shout, laughing as she shouts a what in utter disbelief.

You wave as they take off, thinking you and her could actually be great friends. She has the kind of spunk you look for in a friend, the same spunk you’ve witnessed in your cousin. A large part of you wonders why they’re not friends.

When your Aunt Karen wonders why she wasn’t alerted, you give the disclaimer you’re just there to catch up on the schoolwork. Your Uncle Ted insinuates Houston must be so far behind Hawkins, and you grit a smile in response, an indent on the tip of your tongue from your teeth. Most of your lessons from the school day you had learned last year, already earning top marks on those questions. The only class that was remotely hard was calculus.

It was borderline hilarious.

You run up the stairs, stomach in knots.                                                                         

Nancy is nice enough to let you use her makeup, grinning up at you with amusement as you ruffle through the dresses you so hurriedly packed. She gives a definite yes to a dress you knew stands out but worry at the way it just brushes against your thigh, and the neckline dives deeper than what you’re used to.

When it cascades down your body, the look in her stark green eyes tells you everything you need to know. This was the dress. Nancy is kind enough to do your hair, talking quietly with you as she curls your hair.

The half hour leading up to 7 has you lying on her bed, freaking out. She does the homework you’re supposed to be doing, answering your questions vaguely. She tries to make you feel better, grinning cheekily as she never imagined her sweet cousin going on date with Hawkin’s resident metal head.

When two honks occur down the street, you sit up starkly at the sound, biting your lip as you glance to her. “Go. I’ll distract my parents.”

She does, asking them for faux advice in the living room as you sneak past them to the front door, closing it with the most care you could muster. When you don’t hear any commotions, that gives you the go ahead to run down the street to the large van that sticks out, headlights on as it sits idly.

You peer up at him through the passenger window, waving as he unlocks it for you. The lopsided smile on his face starts that heat up again, like he turns on burners all over your body at will. The door shuts behind you, and you smile up at him shyly when he turns down the music.

“You look…wow.” He compliments you, watching the way your eyes look up at him, that beautiful shine.

You assess his outfit, a leather jacket worn with a graphic t-shirt and jeans with rips at the knee. He looked casual, but damn fine regardless. Him losing his metal accessories and devil-may-care look probably would’ve disappointed you, anyway. “So do you.” You offer back, taking in the way he looks as he starts his van and pulls out.

“Thanks.” He winks, turning at a traffic intersection. “So, there are several places we can go, the movies, Hal’s Diner, Benny’s Burgers, bowling alley, the Drive In, up to you, sweetheart.” He insists, driving his van around the small town.

The only thing you want at the current moment is to be in close quarters with him, with the need to kiss him crazy, a need you’ve experienced far too much this quickly. There’s only one thing that allows that. “Drive in.” You decide, the prospect of those same close quarters sending a thrill down your spine.

Eddie signals left, the drive-in location the opposite way from where he’s been driving. “Sounds good, love.”

Eddie doesn’t ignore the way you subtly avoid eye contact from him, shyly looking at your near bare thighs. By the way, were you trying to get a rise out of him with this wonderfully slinky dress you’re wearing? The moment you crawled into his van he was overthrown by your sweet perfume and the way your dress smooths over your gorgeous curves. It’s too hard, impossibly hard, to resist leaning in for your sweet scent, to nuzzle his nose in your neck. The idea that you don’t want to leave the intimacy of the van any more than he does is enough to bring the urge to readjust the crotch of his jeans.

By the time he pulls up into the far corner of the lot, turning on his radio so it connects with the movie mid-beginning credit scene, you take in the sparce parking lot, only a few vehicles spread apart sporadically. Well, you wanted intimate. You wanted close, now you've got it. His freshly showered self with the mix of his cologne just adding fuel to the ever-increasing fire.

This fire suddenly sends the need to squeeze your legs together, not completely understanding the feeling, but there’s an inkling. An instinct that on some level you know what it is, but no one ever warned you it could be this intense.

The first act of the movie is shared by you and Eddie laughing at the same jokes together, grabbing candy from his hands when he offers it. You sip on a straw in a glass coke bottle, if only to calm the nerves combined with heat that has completely overshadowed any sense you seem to have. Eddie leans back comfortably in his fabric covered seat, a hand landing on your bare thigh.

Oh, that turned up the heat several notches. It starts to become clearer that this heat is what can now be more clearly defined as a want. A want for…more of his hands, further up, him, close to you. Closer.

As your thighs tense and clench under his touch, Eddie can’t hold back any more like he planned. His other hand is tucked under your chin, lifting your big eyes to look up at his. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, your mouth parting as you look up at him with stars in your eyes. “Can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow, breath stuttering as you peer up at him. You nod your head, glancing at his shiny pink lips. Every inch of air is tugged from your lungs as he leans forward, lips open as he places them on yours.

Eddie had every intention of kissing you delicately, the way he knows you deserve to be kissed, gently and patiently. As soon as the whimper leaves your throat and vibrates into his mouth, he forgets his good intentions. The kiss turns dirty, fast, the pressure of his spread hand increasing in the best fucking way, making your body fold involuntarily towards him.

Just when you’re enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours, mewling pathetically against his lips, Eddie starts to kiss down your throat. You sigh, leaning back as that heat finally gains a resolve. Oh, god you're horny. Is that what that is? No wonder teenage boys are such perverts.

The combination of teeth and tongue is everything you needed and more; every muscle feeling like jelly as his lips and hands work like magic over you. Eddie licks a strip up to your ear, a startled and blissful moan filling up the car. He skips right past the pleasantries, past any inclination that you were anything other than wild for eachother. “You ever touch yourself, sweetheart?”

Only God knows why, but the dirty sentence just makes you hungrier for him, more eager. However, the answer to that jarring question is an honest and stuttered, “No.”

 Eddie separates from you, giving you a look, you can’t quite place. “Wait, really?” You confirm it, breathing heavily, gasping as his eyes visibly darken. “So, you’ve never cum before?”

The sentence makes your eyes widen, gulping at that gorgeous face of his. You think you know what he means, but you still need clarification.

“Orgasm, princess. Have you ever had an orgasm?” He asks, a hand placed on your cheek as he watches your reaction.

Oh. That’s what you thought. That’s an absolute and definitive, “No.”

His fingers increase their pressure, a reflex of from his reaction. God, you’re more innocent than he even knew. The idea of even teaching you what it means to get off sends a swoop through his gut, picturing you looking at him with those wide eyes as he corrupts you.

God, does he want to corrupt you. He wants to corrupt every inch of you, turn you into someone who begs him to skip class so you can guzzle on his cock. The way you stare up at him waiting for a response, eyes glazed over as you wait for him to continue kissing you, as if you don’t even remember you’re at a drive in to begin with.

His cock has never hurt so much from the blood pulsing through it, probably an angry red at this point.

“Can I give you one?” He asks, thumb starting to rub on your bottom lip again.

“An-an orgasm?” You stutter, voice squeaking through the question. He’s gorgeous, the way he stares down at you, those same chocolate brown eyes making that heat pool. Despite the fear, the arousal is greater. “Uh, sure.”

He smirks, watching your eyes dart back and forth nervously. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You confirm, pulling him for the kiss you so desperately crave. You weren’t sure how it happens, your hands having a damn mind of their own. Despite him pulling away, he slips back into the kiss easily, the hand on your thigh and hand on your face making you feel dizzy.

You’ve had kisses before, but you knew you were missing something in them. At last, you’ve found it, desperately clinging onto his kiss. God, he’s good at making you turn into mush, relaxing into his seats almost completely.

His hand inches up your thigh, waiting for you to protest. Your breath hitches as he gets closer and closer. “I'm gonna make you feel so good.” He promises, his hot breath turning you into a liquid. Finally, his hand lands on the cotton of your underwear, his strokes tugging mewls into his open mouth. “Shit, you’re soaked, baby. You even know how much you want me? Probably confusing, hmm?”

He puts pressure at the top, rubbing small circles and it feels like fire is set to your center, gasping as your concentration falls apart. His fingers feel good, in a way you didn’t think was possible. Words in your mind echo the thought of how damn good he feels, mouth attempting to tell him, but nothing comes out but wanton gasps.

Eddie watches you wither in his chair, legs opening for him. Sure, giving you an orgasm is a fierce turn on, but knowing you’ve never experienced any type of pleasure or want is sent straight to his cock. He remembers learning how good it felt to start rubbing his cock when it got hard, how often he started doing it when he realized it led to something.

All he wants to do is turn you into a pervert, one orgasm at a time.

That same warmth that’s made home in your gut starts to build, your thighs tensing up when it occurs to you what its building to. “Fuck.” You gasp, Eddie humming at the swear that leaves your lips. “Close, and I haven’t even really touched you, hmm?” He muses, lips starting to add a second sensation on your neck with his hot and wet tongue.

He pushes your underwear aside, fingers finally making direct contact with the wet slick of your folds. “Eddie.” You gasp. The skin on skin makes your head spin, clutching onto his leather jacket with desire. The pleasure jumps up thirty notches, that build reaching an all-time high. Nothing has ever felt better, never so fantastic. Again, now you understand why teenagers are such perverts.

“Let me see you cum, I can feel it coming, baby.” He whispers, licking his lips.

He slides a finger deep in you, the sudden intrusion alien but welcome. On the edge, you become even more completely desperate for him. How was his finger even better? How was that possible? The feat thrills you, happily and willingly giving into everything he gives you. “Damn. Baby. You look so fucking good, think you can cum for me?”

His fingers hook within you, and it pushes you over the edge you’ve been staring down, stars invading your vision, the heat you’ve felt everywhere, all at once. Your tight entrance pulses around his fingers, twitching, not aware of the loud, whiny moans that Eddie’s sure the concession stand less than twenty feet away can hear, but he’s proud of it, grinning maniacally at his hard work.

He guides you through it, thrusting his fingers as he watches you come apart under his touch. When you stop shaking, his hand rubs your pussy gently, admiring the slick that is now pooled down your thighs and even onto his chair. He smirks, catching your eye when they finally open to face him. “How’re you doing, love?”

You forget to be shy in your smile, grinning maniacally as you grab him, yanking him in for a hot, wet kiss. It’s even dirtier than before, attempting to show him how grateful you feel for his magical fingers. “That was…so…good.” You mumble, smiling wider when you can feel him do the same.

“Feels good, hmm?” He asks, his fingers still stroking you gently.

“Jesus.” You answer, thighs convulsing involuntarily.

Eddie chuckles, amused that it takes you cumming to cum out of your shell. “You’re pretty like this, you know?” You roll your eyes, and he can feel the dismissal of his compliment. “Can I eat you out, baby?” It shouldn’t be this embarrassing, but it is. You barely know any of this terminology, and he can feel you tense up below him, your once liquid limbs turning to steel. “You have no idea what that means, do you, baby?”

You shake your head, gulping in the embarrassment.

“That’s ok. Of course, I don’t mind helping you.” Eddie doesn’t mind. When he says that he’s under exaggerating, not showing an ounce of his true feelings. How much does it take for you to squirm under his dirty words? How much patience does he have before he begs you to let him shove his hardened cock down your throat. How long will it be until you’re riding him like a porn star? If he was even slightly sleezier, he’d bet on it with someone. “I’d make that pretty pussy feel even better with my tongue.”

Oh. That sounds miles better than anything your brain could’ve come up with. You bite your lip, staring up at him with pure want. “You’d do that?”

“If you’re willing to come into the back with me.” He muses, nodding his head to his elongated trunk. You turn your head, facing a fleece blanket placed on the floor of the van with a few pillows. Did he do this for you, or is it always this nice?

Eddie doesn’t think you can get any cuter, but when you nod excitedly, starting to crawl into the back before he can say anything, he’s proven dead wrong. He’s never been so happy to be wrong. As you crawl, he watches your ass, your underwear still pulled to the side as the shine on your folds is still visible in the light of the movie.

He smiles, crawling as soon as you land awkwardly on the floor of the van. You sit cross legged waiting for him, one spaghetti strap fallen off your shoulder as you bite your lip anxiously. It doesn’t help Eddie that the strap on your shoulder starts to reveal a breast, just peeking at the top of the nipple. He’s barely seen you, just at the tip of the iceberg of touching you, and he’s about to pop from the anticipation.

How are you doing this to him so easily?

Eddie leans in for a kiss, something as soft as he wanted to give you the moment he saw you sitting in the desk next to his, but his hormones got the worst of him. He kisses each bare shoulder, admiring the way you relax into it.  His long fingers reach to the already fallen strap, fingers brushing as he tugs it down further, fully exposing the partially exposed tit. Your heart races, loud, too loud, in your temple and you wonder if he can hear it.

Eddie can’t, as heartbeats are usually inaudible to the naked ear. He can hear, however, the way those sweet breaths get louder, faster, and even more utterly pathetic for him. Eddie feels a goal take over his mind like a parasite, one he welcomes with a bed made. He plans to make you moan and whine louder so that everyone within ten miles can hear how good you feel, what a good whore you are—he’s getting ahead of himself.

Right now, he focuses on making you feel comfortable, helping you become at ease so you will never be self-conscious with him, never afraid of being too loud, or too eager. He can’t imagine ever thinking otherwise with you. He thought he knew the definition of impossible, but now he knows he had no clue.

Every sensible, distinguishable thought has left your brain, too focused on how good his tongue and teeth feel as he expertly works on your beaded nipple. His brain is going a million miles per hour, yours left behind in the middle of a desert. His hand guides the other strap down your shoulder, fully exposing your chest, the soft material falling so it sits wrapped around your hips.

Teeth scrape against the curve of your breast, as if his tongue is attempting to taste every inch, every centimetre of it. One hand smoothing the skin just below them. Wet kisses trail down your torso, tongue dipping into your navel, the sweet swell of your stomach, his dull nails digging into your soft flesh, the pain adding to the beauty of the mixed sensations.

Your pussy is raging in fire, shouting for the same attention he had been so generous at providing. He feels your thighs tensing, attempting to provide friction for yourself where you need it the most. “Does it hurt, baby?” He asks, mouth now at the base of your neck. “Does that sweet pussy hurt for it?” You nod, rubbing your thighs like a damn cricket. “Oh, I know, I’ll make it all feel better, don’t you worry.”

He admires your face, the way your eyes are closed with the muscles beautifully crumpled up.

“Lie down for me, and I’ll eat that fucking pretty pussy.” Without hesitation, you lay down, shifting your body so you can lie comfortably on the floor of the van.

When you do, his hands tug at the fabric around your waist, not pulling it off you, just clutching it like a vice. They slink under it, fingers tight on the waistband on your panties as he pulls them down your legs. As they leave your feet, pulling them around your heels, Eddie stares at the drenched middle, fingers playing with the thick slick that had gathered. Eddie seems to have a talent for stealing the air from your lungs, doing so as you watch him taste them. “Taste so fucking good, sweets.” He makes a show of placing them into his back pocket, shooting a wink when you give him a questioning look.

He adjusts himself onto his forearms, both hands landing on the top of your thighs as his head dives in between them. Your thigh muscles tense in his hold, begging him for mercy, any kind. “Eddie…please…I need…I need—”

He chuckles, bending over your wanton body. “I love how you say my name, but I’m gonna make you scream it.” He mutters, the scent of your arousal making his vision fizzle.

Finally, finally, his tongue touches you, relishing in the immediate whine that leaves your lips. He hums against you, enjoying the way your legs move restlessly. The first touches are so delicate, your heels digging in his (still) clothed back and grinding your hips to force more contact. “That’s a girl, take what you want from me.” He praises you, hand stroking your thigh gently.

The simple instruction drives your hips to grind more, Eddie’s tongue licking up your slick folds harder in response. At this point, fire isn’t a hot enough word to describe the heat in your pussy. Eddie starts to focus on your clit, his ears suddenly muffled by your thighs abruptly closing on his head. He starts a rhythm, switching back and forth, listening to how your sweet whines answer him.

Any thoughts occurring in your head are long gone, all out of your mouth before your brain even knows you’re thinking it. You wonder how you didn’t think of this, ‘how the first thing you thought when you saw Eddie not how good he would look between your legs’?

Answer: the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. (Spoiler, there will be better things.)

Eddie is more than happy to play with you, to listen how you react to every touch he provides. So far, his favourite sound is when his tongue enters your sopping hole, fucking it gloriously. It was the first truly uninhibited sound he managed to pull from you. Every decision he made for you was purposeful, doing his damn best to send you over the edge again. He wonders how willing he is to put off his own pleasure for the sake of yours.

Honestly, to hear you come apart repeatedly is 1000% worth it to him, even if he has to rut against the floor of the van.

“Cl-close, Eddie.” You tell him, that sudden ending sneaking up on you. “So, so, so, so, good!”

Eddie takes your admission with pride, and as the stars invade your vision, your every limb tensing as you cum, he keeps going.

In your post orgasm haze, the over sensitivity of your pussy is overwhelming. However, his continuing and relentless mouth feels so good you relish in it, absolutely sure your legs will be sore from the constant convulsing. You whimper through a hushed and delayed swear, your hands weaving through his curls and tugging on his scalp.

His thumb meets your clit, rubbing feverishly and driving another orgasm out of you faster than you ever expected. His name is music to his ears as you shout it when the orgasm takes over you. “Fuck, Eddie, mouth feels…ah!”

His brown eyes open, nose nuzzling your clit as he stares at you through those darkened eyes. His tongue licks a long stripe, chin resting the mound of your pubic bone. “Think you can handle a few more?”

Your chest heaves, struggling to catch your breath as you lift your head up to face him.  Your head feels like a weight, too heavy on your neck. Your mouth opens to answer him, but the weight of your head wins, landing back on the van.

Eddie works your clit again, watching your breasts move up and down as you struggle to catch your breath. “Maybe not that many more, hmm? Maybe just one?” …if he’s strong enough to hold back from giving you two.

Stopping at this point would give you a break you need, but at the same time you can’t bear to, Eddie’s tongue acting as a siren’s song. You’re hypnotized by him. “More, please. Please keep going.”

“I love hearing your voice beg for me. Your whimpers are the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sweets.”

Eddie dives in again, your choked whimpers telling any near neighbors that you simply don’t remember they exist. They’re not important enough to care about anymore.

As much as you are sensitive to every single touch, even over-stimulated, you welcome the next three orgasms he gives you. At the end of your third, or sixth, orgasm, Eddie rests his chin on your mound again, staring up at you as you recollect yourself. He’s patient, watching the light making its way back into your eyes.

Eddie nearly asks you a question, when your hand reaches out to grab him by his leather collar. He lets out a yelp of surprise, his fully clothed form an odd juxtaposition against your completely naked one. Well, save for the dress still on your waist. Your lips meet, tongues gliding against each other beautifully, and you taste yourself in his mouth. Even with your brain as foggy as it is, your body feeling as weak as it does, the number one thing you can focus on is getting those clothes off him.

Your hands fidget on the harsh leather collar, forcing it off his back. “Take it off,” you tell him, Eddie grinning cheekily in response. As soon as his jacket is off, you feel the graphic shirt start to come off with it. The reveal of his patched treasure trail, his bare skin against yours a marvel of sensations. You become impatient, attempting to hurry the process of taking his shirt off.

A symphony of laughter leaves his lips as his shirt finally is tossed off to the side, watching your eyes marvel at his tattoo littered chest. Your tits pressed against him pulls a groan from his lips, a sound that drives your legs to tug his tented jeans down against your bare pussy. If you thought his tongue felt good, it’s nothing compared to his hips against yours.

His voice is strained, dripping in husk. “Sh-shit, doll. I-I need you. Need to feel that virgin pussy wrapped around my cock. Need it so bad, please.”

Eddie begging like this being such a turn on is a surprise, to say the least. And from the pleasure he gave you, you’re willing him to do whatever he wants to you.

Whatever. He wants.

“Really? You want me?” You ask, whining as he ruts again.

“Desperately.”

Your hand moves down to the button of his jeans, undoing it with shaky hands and even shakier breathing. “You gonna take my virginity, Eddie?”

Somehow you knew this would make him crazy. You enjoyed it, enjoyed the crazy, adored his moan in approval. “I’m gonna take you, baby.” He grunts, starting to move his jeans down his ass, legs, taking his briefs with them.

He’s quick about it, tongue against your skin as he grabs the dress around your waist and slowly drags it down your legs, tongue dragging down along with it. Slyly, he holds a condom from his pants pockets between two fingers. “You ready?”

You bite your lip, making the bottom lip swell from the constant fidgeting. “I’m on birth control…” you admit, only on it to regulate a heavy flow.

He makes a show of tossing the condom over his shoulder, grinning at his crazy eyes. “Well, shit, darling.” He leans in, feeling the size of him as it brushes against your hip. He’s big, right? “Before I enter that pussy, I need you to do me a favour.”

“Hmm?” You ask, the only thing in your mind is how good his bulge felt when it rutted up against your heat. If that felt that good? Sex with Eddie…your mind goes dizzy from the need.

Eddie takes your hand resting by your head, wrapping it around his hardened length. The moan that leaves his lips is deep and rough. Your unsure fingers allow him to assist you, getting a hold of the rhythm. When you do, he lets you take over, face falling in your neck when your grip tightens. “Okay, I can’t take it any longer.” He whispers, gentle, goosebumps erupting in their wake. “Here, help me, will you?”

You don’t ask, only because you don’t have the chance to, when his hips help you brush the head of his cock against your wet entrance. You tease the two of you simultaneously, brushing it numerous times, both of you gasping in harmony. “Oh, you little tease.”

His hand replaces yours, whining as the head finally, finally brushes into your entrance. “Eddie.” You whisper, clinging onto him desperately. “S-so, so, so full.”

“Yeah?” He asks, both winded by the feel of you and by the blissed look on your face. Maybe if he kisses the middle of your eyebrow enough, he can settle every wrinkle you demonstrate from the pain beautifully mixed with pleasure. “Look at you, so drunk on it, did you ever think a cock could make you feel this good? Ever think how much you could want to be fucked so desperately?”

You shake your head, drunk on his words, drunk on his cock. “More, please.”

“Think you can take it?”

You whine impatiently, legs attempting to pull him in harder. “Eddie.”

He smiles as you fall into his trap, pushing in more than he knows he should. He can’t help it, the smile that takes over your face is the perfect reward. “I thought you were shy?”

You roll your eyes, knowing when someone is this close to you, has seen this much of you, there is barely any time to be shy. “Shut up.”

He listens, kissing you deeply as his hips start to move. Your hand weaves itself into his hair, whimpering into his ear as he hits, deeper, harder.

You can’t fully understand the sounds coming out of his mouth, the once coherent, cocky sentences turn into mumbled groans, and it’s refreshing to know he seems to want you as you did him, craved for you the same way. A string of words on repeat come from your mouth, just his name.

The only thing you seem to be able to think of is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEddieEddieEddie…

“God, your tight pussy, I’m gonna cum soon…” At least, that’s what you think he says. “Gonna fill you up…” You tighten around him, enjoying the prospect of it. “Gonna see it dripping out of you.”

He doesn’t know how it’s possible you tighten around him more.

“God, you take me so well, it’s like you were made for me, made for my cock.”

Head? Empty. Cunt? Full.

Him? Perfect.

“Fill me up, please.”

“Listen to those dirty little words, gonna turn you into a filthy whore.” He whispers, whining together with you in bliss as his hips rut a final, harsh, jagged time.

Time seems to be endless, as he whispers in your ear, hands on his broad back when he settles, keeping his cock warm. Time is so endless; you don’t even notice the movie turning off and the subtle turnover of engines and wheels driving off past the van.

It takes a poor teenage employee to knock on the van doors, politely asking if you could leave because the drive-in is closed, and they need to lock the gate.

To say the way you avoid their eyes after hurriedly putting your dress back on turns Eddie on would be an understatement.

To say when you waltz with him hand in hand down the hallways the next day turns into a sideshow, would be an even bigger understatement.

You sit on his lap during lunch, curious to the reaction of the other boys sitting with him. When Eddie slips his hand under your skirt and plays with your clothed cunt, he knows he’s just starting to corrupt you as you attempt to seem normal.

He’s just getting started.

-

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Thanks for all the love!

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve knows the kids don't mean it when they make him feel stupid. Mostly because they're just as dumb as they are smart. If they were curious enough, they'd stick a fork in an outlet. That's what Steve was for, and he's okay with looking out for them until they realize they can start doing it for themselves. They're learning. . .slowly.

Of course, Eddie doesn't realize this until after Vecna, and he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off and he's trying to stop Max from smothering Mike with a pillow in his sleep. Suddenly, he's a stressed-out dad smoking on the back porch at the homecoming party they've thrown at the Munson's new home. He's watching them run around the backyard, looking tired, and Wayne is laughing at him.

"It's not funny," Eddie muttered. "I love those kids but they're going to make me go gray."

"Or lose your hair," Wayne said in amusement.

"Don't even joke about that," Eddie said.

"Got you something, boy," Wayne said and handed him a small box.

Eddie opened it up to reveal a world's greatest dad mug. He looked up to find Wayne drinking out of a world's greatest grandpa mug.

"Seriously? Did you buy that for yourself?" Eddie asked.

"Yep."

Steve came out on the porch, drinking out of a world's greatest mom mug.

"Not you too," Eddie said.

"I think it's funny," Joyce said from beside Hopper.

"Even if it's about one of your kids?" Eddie asked, and she just grinned.

"You know, I think Will and El are the only ones we don't have to worry about," Steve grinned, sitting next to Eddie. "They're angels."

"That's true. . .wait, what's Max doing to Mike?" Eddie asked.

"Well, it looks like Mike has fallen asleep in the grass, and Max is. . .Max is giving Mike a free haircut," Steve said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, I figured that was coming when Mike said skateboarding is stupid," Hopper said.

"You knew Max would cut his hair?" Eddie asked.

"You gave her the scissors, didn't you?" Steve asked.

Hopper stared off in the distance as he sipped his own cup of coffee. Joyce looked at her husband in horror.

"Hop!"

"Should we stop him?" Eddie asked.

"Nah," Steve said.

"What did he say to you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Dustin joked about us acting like a married couple, and Mike said that I would never marry you in a million years," Steve scoffed and looked at Eddie seriously. "I would marry you in a heartbeat, baby."

Mike yawned and stretched, his brows furrowing.

"Does anyone else feel a breeze?" Mike asked.

"He's looking this way," Eddie said with a grin. "May I kiss you in front of everyone?"

"Absolutely," Steve said with a grin.

Eddie leaned forward and captured Steve’s lips with his.

"Finally," Robin said, coming out of the house.

She was sipping on a mug filled with tea. On the mug, it said: world's worst godmother. Dustin came out a moment later wearing a hat that said: world's loudest child. Eddie glanced at Wayne with an amused look.

"You really went all out, huh?" Eddie asked.

"We had plenty of hush money," Wayne shrugged.

As Max wondered inside, she handed Dustin a pair of scissors.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" He asked.

"Oh my God! My hair!" Mike shrieked. "Henderson! You're dead!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!" Dustin exclaimed and ran off when Mike started chasing him.

"Dustin! You butthead!" Eddie exclaimed. "No running with scissors!"

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Best mistake

Azriel x Reader

Summary; Reader doesn't quite understand how mating bonds work.

Warnings; Mentions of sex

Masterlist

Velaris was always beautiful during the day, but during the night? It was a sight of dreams, if you really think about it; that’s one of the reasons it is called court of dreams. Because of this you decided that tonight’s dinner party should be held in the main balcony of the house of wind where the view was spectacular. Thankfully Feyre and Nesta volunteered to help you, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it. You were so lucky that Nesta preferred the bookstore you worked at, because if she didn’t you wouldn’t have met the inner circle, they wouldn’t become your family too and most importantly you wouldn’t have met him. The night court’s shadowsinger-your mate. Technically he wasn’t your mate-mate yet if that’s a thing, but you were making progress. You knew you had to accept him as your mate but with everything going on -the recent war, the reconstruction of Velaris and his missions- it was nearly impossible to find a free day -or several (wink wink)- for the mating ceremony. You still had no clue how you would accept him but the idea of asking anyone filled you with embarrassment. You are a fae for crying out loud shouldn’t you know this already?

You and Feyre were preparing the meals, everything was perfect until you noticed that you both forgot about Azriel’s request; apple pie. You whipped your head in Feyre’s direction to inform her, but she was gone, probably bickering with Nesta for something irrelevant. You shook your head and started making the apple pie. You knew that the house was enchanted, and it could make the food -weird- yet you wanted the dinner to be special and full of love thus you made all the food.

Everything was set and by the beating sound of wings you knew that Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand were approaching the house. You took your apron off and headed to the balcony.  Just a moment before the males landed, black smoke filled the air and Mor, Elain and Amren fell into the balcony. You laughed at their panting knowing that they were probably racing the boys here.

Strong arms engulfed you from behind and the musky scent of cedar and whiskey had you shivering. His face rested in your neck where he left a soft kiss.

“Hello angel” his voice melodic and soft like the finest velvet.

You just leaned back enjoying his Illyrian warmth and closing your eyes.

“Enough I’m starving” Cassian exclaimed earning a growl from your mate.

Soon everyone was devouring your food, complimenting you. After everyone was finished, you and Feyre walked back inside to get the desserts, you picked a plate and filled it with apple pie keeping the rest in the kitchen in case Azriel wanted more, after all you made it for him. As soon as Feyre had moved the desserts to the table you picked the plate and walked back outside, taking a seat next to Azriel you placed it in front of him without interrupting his conversation with Rhysand. He was briefing him about his last mission, so lost in the discussion that he didn’t notice your movement. Cassian did though and leaned back in his chair a smirk forming on his face. You lifted your eyebrow and he just shrugged pulling his gaze from you.

Azriel stopped talking and picked up his fork taking a piece of the apple pie, he chewed and a low moan left his mouth.

“This is amazing” he said, already picking a second piece.

“Really? I made it for you” you smiled excitedly.

Silence.

Everyone’s head whipped towards you. Azriel gulped, his eyes wide.

“What?” You asked. Fear filled your body.

Rhysand was standing up slowly as to not provoke the shadowsinger.

“Y/n don’t you know that this is how you accept the mating bond?” Feyre spoke her gaze fixed on Azriel. You gave her a confused look. “Offering food.” She specified.

“But we made all the food and we’ve done it again before” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Did you make the apple pie specifically for Azriel?” Cassian asked the smirk never leaving his face and his eyes filled with amusement. He knew.

You nodded.

“There you have it. You just accepted the bond and sent your mate into a sexual frenzy” he boomed. Your jaw almost touched the ground.

“You saw me leaving the plate there…you knew… why didn’t you tell me?” You shouted.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this” he leaned back more and placed his hands behind his head.

Your gaze turned to Azriel who was shaking and then you felt it too. Every feeling was million times stronger, his scent filling all of your senses making you clench your thighs, a faint smell of your arousal leaving your body.

Azriel lifted his gaze on you, his eyes filled with darkness and dominance.

“Do you want this?” His voice feral and possessive.

“Yes” you breathed.

In an instant you were in his arms, his wings flaring behind him.

“Don’t come to the cabin” he growled to the others and with that you were on the sky, a yelp leaving your lips.

He glanced at you and then you decided.

This was the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Requests are open.