Gabs

[𝐒𝐡𝐞/𝐇𝐞𝐫] love being cool :)

[gabsandbucky]

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Hello there!

Gabs, 21, she/her, aries, queer, writer, barista, general mess.

other blog: @gabsghostwriter (writing things)

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Requests are open, so send me something you'd like to see!

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[gabsandbucky]

Bewitching

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Witchy!Reader

wc: 3.9k

Summary: Eddie doesn’t understand why you like walking around in nature, but then you take him on a hike…suffice to say, you change his mind—and he falls completely in love with you.  Warnings: 18+, smut, freaky freaky freaky, loosely s4 era, reader staying with the hendersons, oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming.

border: @uzmacchiato

When Eddie first met you, he had claimed you were a witch—you called him paranoid. You were sequestered in the cabin with Hopper and Eleven because you had what Dustin called super-powers. And although Dustin was technically right, your general existence was more difficult to follow than Eleven’s. You had no idea where you came from, or how these powers developed—you had no relation to Hawkins Lab. Hopper had promised you he’d look into it, and then he died. 

Hawkins was no longer the place for Eleven, and her decision to leave had you contemplating leaving as well. It was good for Eleven to leave—she never had a chance to be a kid here. It also didn’t help that her grief was still fresh, and her powers mysteriously vanished. But there was something about Hawkins that you loved, perhaps it was the mystical goings-on in your own backyard or the need to uncover the truth about your existence—you couldn’t leave. 

Of course, you would’ve been more concerned about Eleven on her own had she not been accompanied by the Byers family. But the young girl was still hesitant to leave you. So before she left, you promised Eleven you would find a place to stay. It just so happened that Dustin convinced his mom to let you stay. 

The Hendersons made the first few months after Hopper’s death more manageable. But there was still something missing. You needed an outlet for yourself—that’s when you started hiking. You couldn’t explain it, not in a way that wouldn’t make you seem like a hippie. But being amongst the giant trees, listening to the rustling of leaves, it all bred calm. No one heard you in the forest.

The first time Eddie had met you, you were burning sage. To someone who was considered a member of the devil’s party, it really freaked him out. He had just dropped Dustin off after Hellfire when he was invited for dinner by Mrs. Henderson. Eddie had always been a polite boy—all things considered—so he accepted. Tasked with fetching you for dinner, Eddie had knocked on your door. When you opened it, you were holding the bundle of herbs, fire sizzling off the top. Eddie’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, dinner already?” You asked, a soft smile gracing your lips. 

Eddie’s mouth opened wide, but no sound came out. He was fixed on the bundle in your hand. You had heard of Eddie, who was Dustin’s new favourite guy—much to Steve’s chagrin. But he was shyer than you pictured. You giggled—something you weren’t sure you still could do—as you waved the sage around. “It’s just sage, I’m cleansing the room.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, still convinced it was evil. “You’re not gonna curse me, are you?” 

His words caused another laugh to fall from your lips. You wafted the sage around him, letting the herbal aroma engulf him. He looked at you, his nose twitching, “You sure that’s not weed?”

You blew the flame out, letting the bundle lie against your tray. “I think you’d know if it was weed, Eddie…”

He opened his mouth, before closing it—he was convinced that because you knew about the weed, you must know all his deepest secrets. He was now fully convinced that you were a witch, what with your dark, smudged eyes, crystal bracelets, and silver rings. 

He blinked before looking back up at you, “Um, anyways…dinnertime.”

He quickly left your room, trying to rub the smile off his face. You had caught him in a trance; he was sure of it. Why could he not stop thinking about you?

Dustin spotted him when he returned to the dining table, “You look relaxed…Y/N cleanse you?”

Eddie mumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s witchcraft, that’s what it is.”

Eddie was convinced he wasn’t ever going to see you again—mainly because he was now under the assumption that your appearance at Dustin’s had been an illusion. There was no other way of explaining it; there was no way a pretty girl like you just stumbled into Eddie’s life. 

But you kept showing up—either around town or at school, sometimes even in his dreams. That convinced him—you’d cast a spell on him. Usually, you’d be there to pick Dustin up from school, but Eddie hadn’t seen you in the parking lot. He figured you had other things to do—brewing potions and whatnot. Besides, he needed to stop focusing on you. 

Eddie had a free-standing appointment behind the school to sell his hearty lunchbox full of drugs. He had found this nice little alcove in the forest that no one ever came to. It was the perfect haven for Eddie’s customers. He had just finished a deal lunchbox sitting on the withered picnic bench. He twisted his rings around his fingers, just lazily chilling. 

When he heard the crunching of leaves, Eddie’s first thought was another customer. He hadn’t been anticipating you. You approached him softly, your feet moving against the earth as if you created it. Every step seemed ethereal, every breath you took bewitching. His ears had perked up when the figure approached him. His eyes widened instantly when he saw your face. 

You smiled, your lipstick crimson, “Hey, Eddie. I never would’ve pegged you for a nature guy.”

He blinked before he shook his head. He needed to play it cool. “Just here for business.”

“A shame, you look good amongst the foliage.”

He blushed before running his fingers along the lunchbox. 

You took his silence as an invitation to join him. You perched up beside him, your black skirt against the planks of wood. You left some space, but it’s not enough as Eddie’s head goes dizzy at the proximity. 

He was nervous, if not because of the witch thing but because of how pretty you were. He took a breath before turning to you. “Wanna smoke?”

You grinned widely. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Smoking weed with a pretty girl really scrambled Eddie’s mind, because soon enough, he was keen to spend more time with you—he wouldn’t admit it, but he got suckered into your trance. He suggested maybe a concert or bar, but you invited him to go hiking. Hiking? Did Eddie really seem like a nature guy to you? But you seem so excited to invite him, so he agreed.

He got some outdoor clothes from Harrington, because apparently, roughing it in his punk ensemble wasn’t going to cut it. He looked like a Zumba instructor with his hair pulled back. He stepped out of the van, with Harrington’s basketball shorts and his black shirt, converse-clad—as if he’d trudge around in hiking boots. 

You waved to him as you came out of the forest—he assumed you lived there at this point. But Eddie was no longer focused on that, because you were in your athletic clothes, a green tank top with matching green shorts. He had to keep his eyes up because he couldn’t stop looking at your ass in those tight shorts. He gulped, smiling as you walked over. 

“Eddie, I’m so glad you made it.”

He nervously grinned at you, his hands sitting on his waist. “Yes, I’m beyond excited to hike.” You both saw through his lie.

Eddie was nothing if not a complainer. Truth be told, the boy couldn’t act normally if he tried—his dramatics crawled into everything he did. You weren’t surprised when, fifteen minutes into the hike, he began to complain. 

“I think my legs are broken.” He huffed, trudging up the hill. 

You stayed in front of him, climbing up the hill, cursing Eddie with the view of your plush ass. You giggled. “Your legs are fine, Eddie.”

But Eddie wasn’t done. “Why do people even hike? Is it a death wish? Because I wish to tumble off the hill and die.”

You were starting to worry about this because his attitude never let up. You were hoping for a fun hike. You turned to look at him. “Try to embrace the fresh air.”

Eddie grumbled, tightening his curly ponytail. “I hope a bear comes to maul me.”

You rolled your eyes—this is what you got when you invited the cynical metalhead out. 

You stopped to look at him as you rolled your eyes, “You’re gonna die with that attitude. Embrace the fresh air.”

When you made it to the first lookout point, Eddie collapsed onto the bench. His breathing was heavy. “I’m done.”

You glared at him, your arms crossed. “Eddie, we’ve only been at it for twenty minutes.”

He sighed loudly. “Feels like twenty years.”

Your eyebrow twitched as an exasperated huff left your mouth. “Fine! You stay here and waste away while I finish the hike, jackass.”

You turned away from him, your two braids swishing behind you. Eddie sighed, watching your upset figure walk away. He took another breath before breaking out into a jog after you. 

When Eddie finally caught up to you, he was completely out-of-breath. 

“Wait, shit…you’re so fast.”

You paused, head turned around. “Eddie?”

He panted, holding his hands to his knees. “Just…one second…oh fuck…”

“I would’ve stopped if I knew you were following me.”

You smiled, rubbing your hand against his back as he tried to catch his breath. Your eyes drifted to the horizon and its breathtaking view. 

Eddie was beginning to steady his breath when you sighed. “I’m sorry I invited you hiking…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re having an awful time—”

“I’m having a great time…” He paused when he saw your glare. He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m just a complainer. It was really nice of you to invite me.”

Your heart warmed as you settled onto the log bench overlooking the cliff. Eddie sat beside you, his hand twitching. He knew that it was the perfect time for a grand romantic gesture, but his nerves were at an all-time high. He wanted to reach out to grab your hand, but was that too eager? What if you didn’t like him, what if—

His thoughts were silenced when you grabbed Eddie’s hand. His heart skipped a beat before squeezing your hand. He revelled in how soft your hand was, and how well you fit into his grasp. This was perfect. 

But you still felt a bit guilty for wearing out the poor boy, so you extended an offer. 

“I know a way to make hiking better…”

Eddie raised his eyebrow, “How?”

You sank to your knees, hands grasping at his crotch, “Can I?”

Eddie blinked—this couldn’t be real. “Can you what?”

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed his cock underneath his shorts, “Suck your cock?”

Eddie’s face went red, mouth agape—this couldn’t be real, this was straight out of Eddie’s imagination. You stayed there on your knees, waiting for an answer. Enough time had passed when you had begun to stand up. Eddie’s hand jutted out to yours. “No wait…please suck my cock.”

You smirked, tugging his shorts down, “Good…”

His cock slapped out of his boxers, eagerly waiting for your touch. You fluttered your lashes up at him as you pressed your lips to his shaft, just gently kitten-licking along the member. Eddie hissed at your slow movements. You pulled off when your hair fell in your face, but Eddie was quicker. He held your hair back, tying it up with his hair tie. You thanked him with a sheepish smile before returning to your lewd action. 

You gently bobbed your head, speeding up your movements. You went as far as you could before letting your throat relax, taking him farther down. Eddie threw his head back as your fingers tugged along his balls. He was surprised that you were so into him—and that you were so good at head. 

It didn’t take him long before he grew harder, cock straining in your mouth. 

He grunted, voice heavy. “Please, baby…” 

You tugged off for a moment, saliva dripping down your chin. “You gonna come?”

He nodded, squeezing his fist as you darted back onto his cock. You bobbed a few more times before Eddie began to whine. 

“Oh fuck, gonna come, oh fuck…” You quickly swallowed his seed, milking his orgasm as long as you could. Eddie whimpered, hips stuttering. You pulled off, before giving his tip one more kiss. Eddie hissed at the touch. You wiped your mouth and stood up, eyes darting around. “The next viewpoint’s just ahead.”

Eddie groaned, “I’m spent…”

You grasped his chin, looking into your eyes. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Eddie chuckled, tugging his pants up as he hurried up onto the trail. “I fucking love hiking.”

The next day, Eddie showed up at your house with a bouquet. Eddie had been sweating buckets the whole way to your house. What if you thought he was weird or too forward? Was this the proper gift for a girl? He was contemplating buying you a Walkman, but that felt weird. So he mustered up the courage to be a gentleman. 

When you heard the pounding on the front door, you wanted to ignore it. But the pounding continued, an almost incessant pattering. You grumbled, heading towards the door. Your eyes softened when they fell to Eddie. “Eddie, it’s not even noon, what are you…” 

Your words trailed off as you looked at the object in his hand. 

“I got you flowers.” He said sheepishly. 

You blinked a few times, not finding any words. 

“I figured you’d like flowers since you like nature and stuff. And also, well…I really like you. And, I want to take you out on a date.”

Your lips quirked up into a happy grin. “I’d love that, Eddie.”

Eddie was stressing about it the entire week. He wasn’t sure if you wanted something fancy, because he heard the portions at Enzo’s were only enough to feed a rabbit, yet the total ranged in the triple 0’s. He had contemplated going to the arcade, but then he realized it was the least romantic idea ever. He hadn’t meant to ask Dustin, but it spilled out of his mouth. Turns out, it was the smartest move Eddie made. 

You loved movies; therefore, he planned a movie night. What made it even luckier was that Dustin was staying over at Mike’s tonight. On his way out the door, Dustin shoved one of your favourite movies on VHS into Eddie’s hand—Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. Your head turned to the TV as the VHS began to play the familiar adventures. 

It was just as the rolling boulder began to chase Indiana when you settled against Eddie. He smiled down at you, arms wrapping around your waist. The two of you stayed cozied up until Indiana narrowly avoided death. You took the opportunity to move a bit closer. You had the blankets skillfully wrapped around the two of you, concealing your dirty thoughts. Your hips began to rock back into his lap. Eddie stayed still—he couldn’t be doing this on the couch. You said Claudia was a heavy sleeper, but Eddie wasn’t taking your words to chance. 

The grinding against him felt warm, but it wasn’t enough. You reached for his ring-clad hand just to slide it under your shirt. Eddie didn’t notice until he felt around; his fingers drifted across your nipple. Eddie’s hips jumped up, prompting a gasp out of you. He let his hand grasp your tit, squeezing you to tease. His hand drifted back around your waist. 

He gently peered down at you. “Y/N?”

You softly hummed. “Yes?”

You felt his chuckles rumble against your ears. “We’re still in the living room…can we…you know?”

You smirked at him. “Can we do what?”

Eddie glared at you. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.” He took a deep breath before looking into your eyes. “Could we have sex, please?”

You beamed widely. “I’d like that.”

Eddie was nervous to say the least, but your horniness outweighed his concerns. You lie against your bed, thighs drifting apart. You pouted up at Eddie with need. He smirked, tugging down your pyjama pants to your panties. He let his fingers tease around the fabric, smiling when your wetness soaked through. 

“Eddie…” You grumbled. 

He chuckled. “So bossy…” Eddie slid down your panties, letting his fingers trail your pussy. He spread your folds apart, watching as you clenched around nothing. He was still in the business of teasing you, at least until his tongue darted out. 

As soon as he got a taste of your pussy, he needed more. He dove back into your weeping pussy, devouring you fully. You moaned softly, spurring Eddie on. He pressed his mouth around your clit just as his fingers danced into you. You moaned louder, your fingers drifting under your shirt. Eddie pushed his face deeper into your folds, letting his tongue roam all around. He moaned against your folds, “Fuck…your pussy tastes so good.”

You gasped, rocking your hips against his face.

“Let me have it, please.” Eddie groaned, speeding up his movements. 

“Eddie…” Your hands drifted down to grip his hair. 

Eddie moaned when he felt your grip, his finger thrusting in and out. He couldn’t help but be entranced by your pleasure. He needed to watch you come; he yearned for it. 

“I want to feel this pussy come.”

Your thighs began to shake, pussy clenching around his tongue. “Eddie…oh fuck.” 

He smirked, dipping his tongue back to work. “Come on, baby.”

Your back arched as you hit your peak. “Eddie…fuck, I’m coming…”

Eddie’s fingers curled inside you, helping you ride out your high. 

“Pussy tastes so fucking good.”

Eddie kept fingering you, even with your sensitivity. You grabbed his hand, watching as his puppy dog eyes drifted up at you. “Yeah?”

You pushed him onto his back. “I wanna ride you.”

Eddie shivered at the thought, tugging his belt out. Your hands slid under his shirt, throwing it onto the ground. You let your lips trail across his tatted chest, carefully marking your territory. 

Eddie shuffled out of his pants and then his boxers, his cock springing out in front of you. You bit your lip, reaching for his cock as you pumped it. You never dropped eye-contact with him. Eddie loved your mouth, and fuck did he love your hands. He knew you could easily make him come, but he wanted, no, he needed to be inside you. 

His hands drifted around your waist, eyes begging up at you. 

“Please…”

You smirked, situated onto his bulge, gasping as his cock nudged your folds. As soon as you were settled, Eddie pressed his lips against yours in a hazy fervour. Your bounces initially started slow, as you got used to Eddie’s cock filling you up. But it wasn’t long before you grew restless, bounces speeding up. Eddie moaned, watching as your pussy swallowed his cock. It was the best feeling he’d ever had, nudging his cock through every ridge of your insides. 

Your moans grew whinier as your pussy grew slicker. It was no trouble rocking your hips onto him, especially when each roll granted his cock a deeper spot in your cervix. 

“Fuck…you feel so good…” Eddie moaned. 

You both needed it deeper and harder. You needed him as close to you as possible. Eddie seemed to pick up on your desire, because he began to thrust into you as well. 

“God…” You gasped, pussy clenching down. You didn’t think he could get deeper, but now he was practically kissing your cervix. 

“Oh fuck, you feel so good.” Eddie cried, hands squeezing into your hips. He lifted you up and down his cock, letting you feel every inch. 

You whimpered, Eddie’s smirk growing. “Knew you wanted this, you temptress…”

“Admit you love it.” You laughed into a moan, just as Eddie’s hands spread to your ass, smacking you. 

Eddie whimpered, cock tightening. “I love it.”

It wasn’t long before your orgasm began to rise. Your body tensed up as pleasure began to spark. It was tedious. You held onto Eddie tightly. 

“I’m close, please…”

Eddie nodded, circling your swollen clit. You moaned at the sensation, pussy tightening around his cock. 

“Oh fuck…fuck.” He cried, “Oh god…”

You waited until the moment of pure ecstasy came. “Eddie…oh god…”

You felt the pleasure explode inside you as chills ran down your spine. It was the best you’d ever felt, and it became even better when Eddie followed after you. 

“Oh fuck, baby…I’m gonna come…where do you want it?”

“Inside, please.”

Eddie shook his head, “I’m not wearing a condom.”

“Don’t care…please, Eddie.”

Your words were enough to sway him. “Oh fuck…baby, I’m coming.”

His cum pulsed into your pussy, warmth filling you up sweetly. You felt him ride out as much as he could, aftershocks settling in. His mouth dripped the sweetest moans. 

When Eddie ceased, you were still held tight against his chest. His nose nudged against your forehead. “You’re okay?”

You hummed, eyes fluttering. “I’m good.”

Eddie began to tug his cock out when you stopped him. “Just stay inside for a bit.”

You fluttered your lashes as your thighs spread around him. 

Eddie sighed, letting his cock settle back into you. He gasped at the sensitivity—he could for sure blow his load again. But he was more than happy to let you cockwarm him, the intimate feeling of being connected stirring him up. He couldn’t help but let his fingers dance against your clit. You sighed, pressing your lips against him into a sloppy makeout. You didn’t think his teasing would get you there, but Eddie would drag pleasure out of you for the rest of his life.

Eddie’s skilled fingers kept going, whispering against your ear his filthy thoughts. 

“Can you come again for me?”

“Eddie…I…” You didn’t think you could, but his words spurred up a feeling that quickened. 

He smirked, fucking up into you again with a slow rhythm. It was a quick build, your pleasure cascading towards you. 

“Eddie, fuck, oh fuck.” 

The bliss washed over you, arms wrapping around Eddie’s shoulder. You squeezed like a vice against his cock, like the pleasure washed over you. 

Eddie wasn’t imagining coming again until you shuddered around him. 

His voice broke into a whimper. “Fuck…so good for me…oh fuck.”

He held you tightly, letting another load spill into you. He didn’t let up until you had both stopped shaking. You both sighed, Eddie laying back, curling you into a bare chest. 

You were already floating, your consciousness in and out as exhaustion overtook you. Eddie reached for the blanket, pulling it up over you. “I’m right here, baby.”

Your eyes hazily flutter open, a bit of alertness letting your lips drift towards him. Eddie’s kiss was delicate, cradling you like the most precious thing in the world. 

“I really like spending time with you.”

 “Yeah...I like spending time with you, Eds…” You said, a yawn ripping through you. 

He leaned into you, kissing your cheeks before kissing your lips. "Thank you, my lady.”

You cuddled into Eddie, your mind safe and serene. For once, there were no distractions—no drifting thoughts of psychic premonitions, or body spasms that inadvertently sparked up your powers. It was just you and Eddie. 

[gabsandbucky]

A Slippery Slope

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 3.2k

Summary: Spencer Reid thinks things through completely and utterly. His intellect was what made him such a good profiler. Yet, he can't help but get distracted by you, the accident-prone agent. Warnings: 18+, hurt/comfort, smut, dry-humping, oral f!receiving, dreamy!reader, last name is Jones (for both Indiana Jones and Fred Jones), morgan 

divider: @uzmacchiato

Ever since you’d joined the BAU, Spencer’s stress level had skyrocketed. You were an excellent profiler and an even better friend to Spencer. His stress was not considered with your capability to do the job, but rather your propensity for disaster. He likened it very similarly to that of his own mind—his brain worked faster than his mouth. For you, your limbs move faster than your brain. 

The team had been called to settle a case in North Dakota. Spencer had insisted it would be cold, so you made sure to pack a jacket. However, what Spencer’s forecast was misguided about was the chance of it snowing—he likened it to under 30%. The weather had been unpredictable as it started to cascade down flurries of snow. Spencer’s hands began to sweat—you already didn’t watch where you were going, and now he had to add black ice to the long list of things he was worried about you falling on. Unfortunately, his panic didn’t help—Hotch assigned him to work on the geographical profile while you and Morgan checked out the most recent crime scene. He prayed that Derek could keep you safe from your own clumsiness. 

Derek Morgan was good at a lot of things: kicking down doors, wooing the ladies, but not keeping you safe from your own feet. You braved through the snow with Derek, pulling up your hood as you approached the dilapidated barn. The old roof wasn’t very structurally sound, even more so now with the weight of the snow—you sounded like Spencer. You felt a twitch in your nose before you sneezed, the cold settling deep into your sinuses. Morgan chuckled before unzipping his sweater, passing it to you. “What is up with you and the cold?”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, zipping his sweater on. 

Now feeling a bit more lucid, you went around the back while Morgan took the front. The barn was evidently abandoned, having already been found as the dumpsite for the first two abductions, but it was worth profiling nonetheless. You softly walked along the snow, listening to the soft crunch. You smiled—your pessimism always lost out when it came to snow. You may hate the cold, but the snow was ethereal. So perhaps you were distracted by the snow, but you were at no real harm. You took a step forward, just for your boot to get caught on a rock, and in an attempt to dislodge, you slipped on a sheet of black ice.

You knew you should’ve listened to Spencer—that was your first thought when your knee slammed down. The pain began to bloom seconds after, causing you to groan. It only took a few seconds before Morgan ran towards you, his eyes wide, “I leave you alone for two seconds…”

You pouted as you reached for his hands, “Please help me up.”

“Reid was right…you are a walking hazard.”

You and Morgan hadn’t discovered anything worthwhile, except for the seriousness of black ice. You begged Morgan not to tell the team, since your previous accident had resulted in being stuck on desk duty while your broken ankle healed. He agreed—just to ease the scolding you would get from Reid. So, you kept it on the downlow. You made sure not to limp or walk funny, since Spencer’s profiler skills would perk up like a flashing beacon.

You took a deep breath before walking into the room, only to find Spencer locked into his geoprofile. Your shoulders relaxed—you could hide this easily. Hotch walked into the conference room, his eyebrows raised at your tense expression. You gave him a sheepish smile, to which he just sighed. 

“Reid, Jones…I want you to scope out the ice cream shop where the first victim worked.”

Reid’s head darted out of the pages. “Haven’t we already ruled out the location?”

“Consider it a reprieve…you’ve been working nonstop since this morning.”

Spencer was about to protest when you chimed in, “Ice cream sounds great!”

Morgan smirked, “Sure, it’s just the ice cream you like…nothing else—”

You shoved Morgan softly, before smiling at Spencer, “Shall we?”

True to his overprepared nature, Spencer packed two scarves. Your stomach erupted tered with butterflies as he wrapped the black-and-purple scarf around your neck. 

“Scarves have been around since early times, and they’re not just used for cold. It can be used to ward away dust and sand in hotter climates and—”

His head turned to you, “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

You smiled, “Yeah, but I don’t mind. I like it when you teach me new things.”

The ice cream shop was just around the corner. It had a quaint interior, although you figured the only thing ice cream stores needed was their titular dessert. The menu list sparked a bit of worry in your mind; there were so many options. You nervously chewed on your lip before Spencer reached for your hand. “You like mango, right?”

You nodded with a soft smile. He ordered you a mango sorbet and himself a rocky road. He was smooth with his payment, not even giving you a chance to pay. He just insisted it was his treat to you—your cheeks were embarrassingly warm. 

You walked along the street with Spencer, hands brushing against one another. You wanted to hold his hand, but your overthinking got the best of you. You barely registered what he said before you tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Spencer quickly caught you, just for your ice cream to smear over his cardigan. It wasn’t that big of a deal to Spencer—he always came prepared with Tide pens in his go-bag. Sure, he hated being dirty, but he knew it was just a byproduct of your clumsiness. But you didn’t see it the same; you saw his favourite cardigan being ruined by your stupidity. 

When Spencer looked back at you, your eyes were crinkling with tears. 

His eyes immediately soften, “Hey…it’s okay.”

You shook your head, sniffling, “I ruined your favourite cardigan.” 

“This is a nice cardigan, yes, but it’s hardly my favourite,” Spencer said, trying to ease your worry. You had retreated into yourself, covering your face with your hand. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered, your voice breaking. 

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, “There’s nothing to be sorry for…it was an accident.”

“That’s all I seem good for anyway…”

Spencer guided you to a nearby bench. “That’s not true. Why would you say that?”

You tried to hide your guilty expression, but there was no fooling Spencer.

“Did something happen?”

You softly darted your eyes away from his, “No…”

Spencer leaned into your face, picking up on your microexpressions, “You’re telling me nothing happened?”

“Yes, I’m telling you that, because…it’s the truth.”

He sighed, letting his hand brush against your knee. You winced softly, immediately drawing Spencer’s attention. “You hurt yourself, didn’t you?”

You caved in with a shaky nod. You let Spencer pull your black skirt up to reveal your bruised knee. His eyes widened as he looked at the purple skin. “It’s already swollen. Did you not ice it when you got back?”

“Didn’t want anyone to notice.”

His eyes widened. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself…you should’ve said something.”

You couldn’t look at him anymore; the shame was festering in your head. He must have noticed you go quiet because his hand brushed against yours. “Hey…I’m not mad. Why don’t we go back to the station so I can ice it?”

“Okay.”

Spencer forced you to sit when you got back to the station before running off to find ice. Morgan walked over to you with a teasing grin, “Oh, is Reid living up to his doctor name?”

“Shut up, Morgan…” You mumbled. 

Spencer came trodding back, an icepack in his hand with a cloth. “Okay, let’s elevate your leg and then…” He gently placed the ice pack on your knee. You hissed at the sensation. 

“So, want to tell me how this happened?”

You huffed, “It’s embarrassing.”

“I won’t think so.”

You took a deep breath, “It was stupid black ice.”

Spencer nodded. “Black ice is responsible for 467 slip-and-fall deaths annually, and that’s not counting the vehicle collisions.”

You blinked at him before he continued, “I’m saying…this wasn’t your fault. It’s notoriously tricky to spot.”

Morgan chuckled while taking a sip of his coffee, “We really ought to hire a safety team for you, spitfire.”

You and Spencer worked on the victimology for the rest of the night, which involved him not letting you out of your chair.  “You need to rest.” He insisted, to which you rolled your eyes. But there was a part deep down inside you that was happy—it was sweet that someone was taking care of you, especially Spencer. 

When you were finally sent back to your hotel room, Spencer paused at your door. His mouth opened, unsure of what to say. You looked up at him. “Thank you for helping me today.”

“It’s easy when it comes to you.”

You grinned. “I didn’t mean to completely freak out earlier…I was just nervous and got it into my head. I’m really sorry, truly…it was stupid of me…” Your words began to ramble. 

Spencer paused your freak-out. “Hey…deep breath.”

You followed along with a deep breath before settling back to your words, “The truth is…I like you so much.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “You do?”

You nodded, “I think that’s why I get so incredibly clumsy around you. Anyways, I just wanted you to know because crying over spilt ice cream is a little—”

Spencer pressed his lips against yours, effectively silencing your ramble. You leaned into his touch, letting his plush lips cushion into yours. 

He pulled away soon after with a smile. “I like you too, if that wasn’t clear.”

You leaned against the door frame, your hand gently tugging his tie. “You could…come inside?”

His cheeks went pink before he nodded, “Yes—I mean, sure, why not.”

Spencer was completely nervous to be alone with you in your hotel room. Kissing you was one thing, but coming inside? He needed his hands to stop shaking. You weren’t nervous in the slightest, going through your nighttime routine. It was only when you reached for your go-bag that you noticed Spencer hadn’t moved. Your eyebrow softly raised at his position. 

“You can sit down on the bed, if you want?” You suggested, hands clasped behind you. God, now you felt overly shy. 

But your suggestion eased Spencer, who unlaced his sneakers before gently removing his tie. You had to pretend his actions weren’t so arousing, but god, you couldn’t stop watching his hands. You couldn’t tear your gaze away even as he gently folded up his green tie. Spencer’s hands travelled down the buttons of his shirt—the first, then the second, third. You couldn’t help but trail your eyes down the bare expanse of his chest. Spencer’s head finally turned to yours, eyes narrowing in on your state. He couldn’t help the flush in his cheeks when he gulped. 

You reached for your go-bag. “I’m just gonna…pyjamas…” You explained. Eyes darting away from him. You had been so obvious. 

Spencer nodded. “Yup—me too!” He kept his eyes on the wall until he heard the bathroom door click; that’s when he finally groaned. “I’m such an idiot.”

Spencer knew exactly how long it would take him to put on his pyjamas, and according to his previous times, you always came out a few minutes later. So he settled into the bed, tugging up the blanket over his plaid pjs—subsequently hiding his growing tent. 

Just as Spencer predicted, you came out of the bathroom. He smiled at your fresh face, your big glasses settling onto your nose. He always loved the way you looked. And as much as he loved your glasses, his eyes narrowed down to your hair. He was in awe of how it cascaded down your shoulders—your hair was so restrictive at work, by nature of the profession. But he loved the way you made your hair still feel cute when it was up. Penelope had taken you under her wing when you complimented the tech genius’s styled hair. Penelope had helped you find something whimsical about this job—and Spencer had to thank her.  

Spencer loved your little barrettes, whether they were pink, green, or even leopard print. He wasn’t sure what he liked better, your hair up in one pony or two, or braided into a bun. Or sometimes, the headband you wore for style. 

But here you were, in an intimate manner with your patterned pjs and natural hair. Spencer’s throat went dry. You frowned, looked down at yourself. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong…you just look beautiful.” 

You just smiled softly, reaching for the covers. You settled into the mattress while Spencer lay on his back like a stiff board. You rolled your eyes, your hand crawling down his arm. Your touch soothed his nerves, loosening up his muscles. It wasn’t long before your hand found a home in his, squeezing it tightly. 

Spencer turned to face you. “We should get some sleep.”

You looked over to him with a nod. “Of course.”

An air of silence hovered between the two of you while you stared at one another. Spencer had the prettiest brown eyes, soft like a doe. You could get lost in them. Your eyes dropped to his lips before they flickered back up. “We could make out for a bit?”

Spencer nodded as quickly as he could before diving into your lips. You giggled as you slid your hands around his waist, lips lurching back at him. His hands found the base of your neck, softly holding you. 

You turned over, settling onto his lap. Spencer moaned, reaching for your hips. You fluttered your lashes as your hands went to his cheeks. “You’re such a pretty boy.”

He stifled his whimper, kissing up at you instead. It was all-consuming, how his lips devoured yours. Your kisses grew sloppier, movement more frenzied. Your hips were rocking gently, craving a sense of friction. 

Spencer’s hands squeezed around your hips, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. “Shit…”

Your eyes widened as you listened to his sweet sounds—he sounded like heaven. You rolled your hips again, but more forcefully. He let out a breathy whimper. “Oh god, please…”

You held his cheeks, forcing his eyes to look up at you. “Yeah, that feels good?”

He nodded immediately, eyes watery and voice chipped. “So good.”

Your finger travelled underneath his eye, softly wiping away the tear, before placing a kiss on his forehead. “You wanna keep going?”

Spencer craved your touch more than he could fathom. He nodded, hands reaching for yours. “Please don’t stop.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it, pretty boy.”

His cheeks flushed again at your petname. He didn’t think that you saying pretty boy would make him feel this way, but hearing it come from your lips was like music to his ears. 

You knew it was unwise to sleep with him, at least, until the case was done. But you didn’t want to remove any chance of fun. You kept rolling your hips ever so slowly into his bulge, gasping at the warmth of pleasure. 

Your grinding was torture to Spencer—he knew you were teasing him. You wanted to see how long he’d hold out: it wasn’t very long. Spencer had you hitched onto his lap, rutting his hips into you. He edged his cock back and forth, needing any sort of friction. His mind was filled with nothing but dirty thoughts. 

“Oh Spencer…” You moaned as he thrust his bulge up to meet you. It was dizzying

and electric. You already felt yourself getting closer and closer. You returned to kissing him, more frenzied this time. You let your tongue slip into his mouth, clashing the two muscles together. You were both getting close, more desperate. Your hands curled into his hair, tugging gently. 

Spencer gasped at your nails against his scalp, and it wasn’t long before he cried. His hips jerked up, faster and faster, before he came with a strangled moan. He came in his pants, a messy, sticky sight. You felt the warmth leaking through his pyjama pants. Spencer wanted to hide, but you thought it was incredibly hot. You stared into his eyes as you darted your fingers beneath the plaid, letting his cum drip onto your fingers. 

Spencer was now convinced this was a dream. You were still perched on his lap, sucking your two fingers, moaning at his taste. He couldn’t look away. The erotic display that you had performed just pushed him to pleasure you. With a quick movement, Spencer had you flat on your back, his hands pulling down your pyjamas. 

“Spencer…you don’t have to.”

He looked up at you. “I really want to…please?” 

You couldn’t say no to his face, especially when you’d always been entranced with his fingers—the idea of having them inside of you was turning you on beyond belief. 

Spencer’s fingers trailed towards your panties, hitching them to the side. He gasped at the wetness leaving your hole, letting his pointer finger gently push in. He sucked his finger before worshipping your pussy. He dove through your folds, kissing every inch of you. He knew from his research that women had a higher chance of orgasm with clitoral stimulation, so he took no time in focusing on your clit. Your hips jumped up, thighs squeezing around his head. “Fuck Spence…”

He pushed two of his fingers inside you, trying to work you up to pleasure. He was eager to hear that his pleasure was to your satisfaction, prompting him to up the speed. The pleasure was skyrocketing in your stomach, thighs already beginning to shake. You had never been able to work yourself up this quickly, but Spencer was a master of your body.

“Spencer…I’m so close.” You whined, hands tugging his curls. 

He moaned into your pussy, sucking your clit harder while thrusting his fingers deeper into you. It wasn’t long before his actions had you tipping over into complete pleasure. 

“Oh fuck…Spence…fuck.” You cried, back arching up as your orgasm hit your full-force. Spencer didn’t relent his actions, wanting to milk every last moment out of you. 

When your body began to go slack, that’s when Spencer stopped his movements. He pulled your panties back before tugging up your pyjamas. He lay beside you, gently stroking your hair. 

“Was that okay?” He asked. 

You smiled. “Spencer…that was so fucking good.”

He blushed at your expletive before kissing you softly. 

“We need to be up early.”

You pouted before kissing him a bit deeper. He moaned into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you. You pulled away after a few more pecks, eyes locking with him. 

“You’ll stay tonight?”

He smiled, tucking the blanket around you. “Of course I will…aftercare is essential for regulating your body after you orgasm.”

Your cheeks warmed at his scientific explanation. “You’re too good to me.”

You crawled into Spencer’s arms, head resting against his chest. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

He held you tight, feeling intimacy unlike anything he’d ever had before. He placed a kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

[gabsandbucky]

A Pit of Shadows

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Reader

wc: 5.5k

Summary: Having not seen you in years, Bucky is surprised by the turn of events that force you and him (and five other rascals) to become the new face of the Avengers. Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, immortal (ish) reader, sleep deprivation, nightmares, aversion to loud sounds (thunder). Bucky’s mental stability is good; the reader’s is not. Bucky and Reader no.1 Bob stans. 

divider by: @uzmacchiato

AN: finally writing about my man...😋

You had never considered a life outside of pain. The path you’d walked on had never been your choice—no matter how much you kicked and screamed, you had been chained to this life. Any chance of a different one fluttered away each time your head rested against the stale mattress your captors called a bed. Your home, your entire being, was fragmented into merciless warfare.

If you remembered one thing from your childhood, it would’ve been your kindness. You always knew that you wanted to help people. Instead of saving lives, you were conditioned to take them—funny how that worked out. So you learnt how to hurt rather than heal, to terminate the problem rather than search for a remedy. It was a hopeless existence. 

You never saw a life for yourself outside of Hydra; then again, you hadn’t ever believed someone would come rescue you. That was the hope of an adolescent mind, that one day you would be whisked away from your tall tower into the arms of a handsome knight. You stopped wishing for a miracle (or fairy godmother) a long time ago. 

Yet this time, life surprised you for the better. The Avengers was their group name, a sparkly band of heroes dedicated to protecting the world from threats. When they had found you in the ruins of a Hydra base, you were barely breathing—the trauma you had undergone was so severe, the doctors weren’t sure if you’d ever recover. But you did, just with a few mental scars (well, more than a few). 

You weren’t thrust into the spotlight or asked to join the Avengers; you were just a reminder of Shield’s past corruption. You knew it wasn’t your fault. You hadn’t asked to join Hydra—but their sins were synonymous with your own. Your rescue hadn’t brought about the chance for the retribution of your actions—you weren’t even sure they’d let you near weapons.

The fairytale dream was just another nightmare—isolation was your only state. You suppose that’s when you turned to the private sector. Hunting people was what you knew, and at least this time you’d receive a pricey bounty. 

Now, the Thunderbolts, your initiation was another story. You never really considered yourself a team person. Yet when stuck between a rock and a hard place—trapped in a room with a self-destruct countdown accompanied by three other assassins and a guy named Bob—you found yourself ready to chip in. Everyone was distrustful of you—on the surface, you looked like a regular girl, but underneath all that was tragedy. Unfortunately, it seemed their familiarity with you was targeted more to your past deeds, thinking you a homicidal manic. 

You were only a bit upset when they had all levelled their weapons against you—an understandable response. Yet, your anger raged when you weren’t given a moment to defend yourself before the rejected Captain America shot you through the heart. You had been ready to help them out. Now, you were less inclined to do so, considering you were lying on the ground in a pool of your blood. Just as they appeared, the four vanished, leaving you to wither away on your own. Thanks to your abilities, you slipped into the shadows, reappearing in the desert, taking your last breath. 

A few seconds passed before you were thrust back into life—one of the many curses you’d been affected by during your time as an assassin was immortality. You weren’t sure if it was definite, each time tipping closer to the ultimate death. But you gambled with death just as you gambled with your life. You traversed the desert, fanning yourself from the dust clouds, when Bucky Barnes rode past you. You didn’t know the man well—you’d met him in passing during your killing days, and a few times after his escape through Steve. All that to say, you weren’t expecting to see him. 

Bucky was on his own mission to take down Valentina and all her illegal assets. Being a senator was fine, but Bucky knew he could make real change with a machine gun and his motorcycle. Yet, on his way to said destruction, he stumbled upon you. It was an utter shock—he’d never thought he’d see you again. After you had been recused from Hydra, you’d follow Steve around like a lost puppy. Bucky couldn’t blame you—he did the same. He understood what it was like to be missing your identity, replaced with a soulless automaton of himself. But why were you here? He had hoped your disappearance over the years was due to having moved on, not being stuck in the same rut of trauma. 

He slowed down his bike, leaning over to you, “Hey, Bones, wasn’t expecting to see you…in the middle of the desert.”

Your lips turned up at his remark, “Hadn’t been planning it either.”

His eyes wandered down to your shirt, a sheen of blood soaking through. “Shit, did you get hurt, doll?”

You shook your head, insisting that he not worry. He cursed under his breath, something along the lines of you’re a goddamn idiot if you think I’m gonna ignore this. Of course, Bucky was privy to your divine resurrections (though he will say the first time spooked him), but that was all during the fog of battle. 

You sighed, letting your hand gather up the fabric, revealing the scar rapidly settling over the wound. Bucky’s eyes softened as he looked into your eyes, “How’d it happen?”

You grumbled, boots punting rocks in the sand. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Bucky sighed, kicking the stand on his bike as he wandered over to you. “You know you can talk to me…”

It was true—Bucky and you had more in common than you’d like to acknowledge. But it wasn’t the mistake of dying again that stung; it was how they all looked at you. They were misfits like you were, but you seemed to be so abhorrent that you needed to be eliminated. You knew you were a good person—you kept telling yourself that. But people’s behaviour towards you made you question your purpose, that maybe you’d be better off dead. It was the curse of living that was a weighty cost on your soul. 

But how could you explain all that to Bucky—your crippling self-worth and destructive emotions. After all these years, you’d thought maybe you could repent, but you couldn’t wash your hands clean of the blood. You took a deep breath, eyes wandering to Bucky. “It’s nothing really…”

“Doll…”

You grumbled, rubbing your eyes. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially because of the circumstances in which you’d died. But you were trying to be a better person, and part of that meant expressing your feelings. 

You sighed, “It was that idiot, Walker…shot me.”

Bucky’s eyebrows narrowed as fury stirred in his heart—of course, John was the one who shot first and assessed second. He let that sink in as he watched the despair in your actions. 

“It wasn’t your fault…” He began. 

“I know that!” You said sharply, before lowering your volume, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, doll. Would you wanna come with me?” He asked hesitantly, hand outstretched to yours. You looked up at his glistening eyes before you nodded—it would be nice to not be alone. 

While Bucky knew you could handle yourself, he didn’t want you to make it a habit to hurt yourself—he knew how bad that road could get. He especially wanted to keep you from the brink of death; your betrayal of the natural order always made him a bit queasy. 

He instructed you to wait for him at the little barn, intending to bring his prisoners back there. You waited patiently, twiddling your fingers before he arrived with the captives. They all turned to look at you. “But you died…” John gasped. 

You glared at him, “You must be a lousy shot.”

Walker tugged his restraints to no avail, while Bucky got back to his off-the-clock avenging. 

Things snowballed from there—and now all of a sudden, you were one of the new faces of the Avengers. You’d never expected yourself to end up in this position, and alongside Bucky Barnes no less. You felt weird about it, considering the hushed phone calls Bucky had with Sam—you wished this situation hadn’t gotten in the way of their friendship. It all just felt tense. 

Living at the tower was okay…at least you had your own room. The rag-tag group of Thunderbolts, as Alexi so beautifully named, were all messed up in their own ways and came with their own set of coping mechanisms. But you were fine—no traumas were lingering at all. Well, a bit of a half-truth since they were there just buried deep down, never to be seen again. 

The first week of Tower living was easy—you developed a routine in which you’d only ever use the kitchen when no one was there, you’d only spar when the gym was empty, and of course, you’d only ever hang out in the lounge if you were, you guessed it, alone. Normally, you would have all this time to focus your mind, to confront the root of your pain—that was until the Void.

You were no stranger to shadows; you lived amongst them, but the frightening remnants left by the figure sent terror through your veins. You had barely noticed disappearing amongst the others until you arrived at your memories, the darkest ones rising up. Now every time you closed your eyes, all your haunting memories came flooding back—each bloodier than the last. You hadn’t wanted to shut your eyes, lest your body would begin to sleep, and begin to dream. Thus, on day two of no sleep, you spent the early hours in the gym. 

Bucky couldn’t sleep; it wasn’t anything new. His sleep issues began long before his Hydra days. He had always been immersed in combat—though he considered being a soldier more honourable than a brainwashed assassin. He had his own fair share of coping mechanisms thanks to his court-ordained therapist. Exercise was good, in moderation.

When he stepped into the dimly-lit gym, he watched you swing against the punching bag. He paused the doors for a moment, eyes wandering over your form—your onslaught of punches were intensive and worried him. You were off your game, plain and simple. He’d seen you fight better than this. But here, during the midnight hours, you were tense, less fluid than before. The speed of punches was slower, yet there was a harder intensity to them, frustration seeping out like sweat. 

He carefully approached you, his first aim being to soothe you. He’d never seen you like this, so on edge, but then again, had he really known you that well? He stepped with steady feet, approaching you as if you were a scared animal. 

He stopped inches away from you before he spoke up, “Hey, is everything alright?”

Your head briefly turned as you heard Bucky’s voice, the soft timbre sending shivers down your spine. Were you okay? That was such a complicated question. You didn’t know what to say, except something that wouldn’t worry him. 

“Everything’s fine, Bucky,” You mumbled before the punching bag came swinging back at you. You hadn’t been ready for it—the weight of the coarse sand knocking you off balance. Bucky caught you before you could try to steady yourself. He was even more suspicious; he never saw your reflexes so…off. 

“Whoa, easy there, doll.” Bucky held you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles against your back. His touch brought you back, your eyes fixing up at the handsome man, “Bucky?”

Your recognition caused him to smile. He reached out for your hand, his flesh hand meeting your bandaged fist. You winced softly at the stinging pain—you had been in such a rush that you hadn’t properly wrapped them up, another slip in your psyche. 

But Bucky wasn’t dissuaded from your aches—he unwrapped the gauzy material around your knuckles, softly caressing the irritated skin. 

“Doll,” He began to say with a soft voice, “You really have got to take better care of yourself.”

You blinked, feeling a bit ashamed—he hadn’t needed to worry about you, not at all. “It’s fine really…I’m okay.”

He scoffed at your dismissal, “It’s not okay, Y/N. I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be worried.”

That wasn’t what Bucky wanted to hear—he wanted you to reach out for help rather than curl inside your isolation. You stepped back from him, plastering on a fake smile—it was ever-practiced and flawless. “I’m gonna get some rest, you should too, Bucky.”

You paused for a moment, hiding any stumbles in your movements. Bucky sighed, watching you closely; he wasn’t entirely convinced of your sudden recovery, but then again, he wasn’t going to push it, at least, not yet. “Have a good night, doll.”

You really tried to have a good night, but your determination couldn’t outweigh the debilitating feeling in your soul. The nightmares came full force after days of insomnia—you were contemplating never sleeping again. No matter how often you got your hellish night terrors, you never skipped training. Although your dedication seemed to be more your detriment. 

Partnered training, not your favourite combat scenario. You suppose it would be easier to do it with Bucky, but he had already been on your case last night. You figured you’d go for the least menacing member, Bob. You couldn’t help but note the shaking muscles felt with every punch. You could feel the flaws sinking into your movements, opening up snippets of opportunities for your opponent to kick.

It was when Bob briefly knocked you off your stance that he noticed your exhaustion. His fist immediately opened back up, his eyes wide and fearful. He hadn’t been hitting very hard, and even then, you still stumbled. That fear that has been permeating ever since the Void came creeping back for you and Bob. 

Bob dragged you over to the corner, nervously fiddling with his hands. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, softly avoiding eye contact. That wasn’t like you; you never seemed so distraught. Bob had always considered you a force to be reckoned with—in the nicest way possible, of course.

“It’s nothing…” You whispered.

Bob blinked, confused by your retort, “It has to be something…you didn’t touch your breakfast.”

Your eyes widened as Bob continued, “Your favourite breakfast is yogurt with berries and granola, but you didn’t bother.”

You were shocked by how much he paid attention to you—you thought you managed pretty well on the outskirts of the team, but it seemed you’d let on more about yourself. Bob’s eyes flickered to yours—you could see the care in his eyes, and it almost made you break. 

You felt saltwater teetering on the edge of your lashline—you couldn’t do that here. You composed yourself with a quick wipe of your eyes. “I think I just need to sleep.”

It wasn’t until dinnertime that Bucky finally caught sight of you. He wasn’t sure if you were avoiding him—who was he kidding, you were definitely avoiding him. He observed your behaviour and made one conclusion: you were just like him. He felt sympathy for you; it had taken years of reparations and therapy to undo Hydra’s grip. He only wished he could offer you some reprieve. But you were stubborn, just like him. 

You hadn’t eaten dinner with the team. You had just popped in halfway through, reaching for your fruit in the fridge. You executed your mission with the skills of a thief. Your hope to go unnoticed failed as Bucky met your gaze. 

You softly approached him, “Hey…”

Bucky smiled, “Hey, Y/N. You’ve been quiet today.”

You shrugged, opening the drawer for a fork, “It’s been a long day.”

He nodded, his hand clasping yours, “You’re sure everything’s alright…I know last night—”

You shook your head, cutting him off, “James, I’m fine.”

You hadn’t even offered a second glance before you headed back to your room, your fruit in hand. Bucky grumbled, scratching his head—what had he done wrong?

From the end of the table, Bob sat up, gently standing next to Bucky. “Um, Bucky?”

Bucky’s head turned. “Yes, Bob?”

He took a shaky breath, eyes darting around. “Is Y/N gonna be okay?”

Bucky’s heart warmed—it was nice to see others caring about you, too. He just hoped you could see the love that surrounded you. “I’m sure. You’re a real good friend to her, Bob.”

Bob’s eyes widened, a large smile spreading across his face, “I don’t know about that. Thanks for the chat, Bucky.”

You were getting ready to turn in when you heard knocking on your door. You huffed, opening it as Ava stared in front of you. She looked a bit uneasy, her eyes drifting over your tired-state.

You looked up at him, trying to reassure her, “Hey Ava…”

She smiled at you, hands darting into her pockets, “Bones, I just wanted to invite you to drinks…Alexi’s paying.”

You chuckled before shaking your head, “I’m just going to turn in early.”

Alcohol would cause you to fall asleep, and the nightmares would come back. You thought about what Bucky would say, how he’d try to levy your concerns—going out with the team could be fun. But the nerves quelled in your stomach at the thought of that many people, or the incessant pounding of the DJ’s bass. 

Ava’s eyes widened as she leaned in, trying to see through your lie. You didn’t think she could phase into your mind, but her gaze was strong. Thankfully, your acting was foolproof. “If you insist…” She turned to leave before looking back at you, “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.” So you stayed in your room trying to resist your urge to go to sleep. 

You were still up the next morning when your alarm rang. Looking like the opposite of well-rested—your eyes were red, hidden behind your glasses, as you stifled every yawn. You had shuffled into the briefing room with your mug of tea as you took your place next to Bucky. Mission assignments always dragged on, as Valentina did everything she could to boost the Avengers’ image—and with that, also her own. It was always better having Bucky by your side during these. 

He rolled his chair closer towards yours, hand dragging into your palm. Your head lifted as you smiled. You couldn’t help how you felt around Bucky, how your stomach would flutter with butterflies. You were mostly out of the loop during the mission briefings. 

Your ears only perked up when you were assigned a risky mission with Yelena and Ava. You weren’t too worried about it, but it seemed the soldier had other ideas. 

Bucky offered to take your place, citing it might be too dangerous for you. Your eyes twitched as he looked over to you; he may have thought it was a kind gesture, but all you could hear was him thinking you were weak. You had gone on plenty of missions, many that had gotten you killed. But every time, some miracle—being, your stupid immortality, had you woken up fresh as a daisy.

You frowned, sinking into your chair. Since Bucky, Ava and Yelena got to go on the exciting bomb extraction mission, you were stuck on a reconnaissance mission with John and Alexi. 

You had no problems with Alexi. Sure, he was loud sometimes, but he made up for it by always saving you a bowl of Avengers brand wheaties—it was embarrassing, but you couldn't deny that they were tasty. The Red Guardian could be clueless, but he was just a big softie. 

John, on the other hand, oh boy. He was a fraud, the fake replacement to Steve, despite Sam being handed down the shield. You had spent enough time with Steve to know that John would never live up to his legacy. And you may have told him that—several times during the situation with the Flagsmashers. Oh, and he had shot you, so that too. All you could do was manifest calm thoughts. 

You had no idea how long this mission would be. It had only been twenty minutes, and you were already bored. You sat in the backseat, eyes fixed out the window as Alexi softly hummed along to the radio. If that wasn’t enough, Walker had been constantly disassembling and reassembling his gun. You squeezed your eyes trying to shut out all the grating noises.

You were getting antsy, so perhaps that’s why you snuck off. You already said teams weren’t your thing. It’s not like they noticed, which was bad on their stakeout demeanour. You had read the case file—you were bored—so you knew what you were getting into. Or so you thought. You had slowly come into the warehouse, infiltrating the drug deal in a more obvious manner than decided upon. You smiled nervously as gunshots rang out, aiming at you. 

“Oh shit,” You yelped, darting behind a storage container. You couldn’t die, but you surely could get hurt. You fumbled with your earpiece as you alerted your teammates. “Um, I’m sorta taking fire.” 

From within the van, John turned his head to find you missing. He groaned, opening the car door, “Jesus, kid, your disappearing act is worse than Ava’s.”

Alexi beamed, joyfully chuckling as he jumped out of the car. He primed his fists up, getting ready to storm in. “I don’t think these bad guys are ready for the Red Guardian Rampage!” 

You blinked a few times—was he working on a battle catchphrase? “Just, help?”

John huffed, kicking up the door of the warehouse with his gun, aimed at the left side of the dealers. Alexi bashed through the door and tackled the dealers on the right. 

You caught your breath, surprised that you were exhausted. “Thanks for that.”

Alexi laughed, “When can we hit more people?”

John just ignored the Russian, his eyes flickering over the scene before it landed on your stomach. “Bones, did you get hit?”

You looked down at the gunshot wound, now feeling the pain throbbing, “Oh…”

Alexi quickly picked you up, holding you in his arms, “We shall save you, little Skeleton.” This was going to be a long night. 

Did the mission succeed? Yep. Did you follow the mission plans? Not exactly. Listen, you got a bit hurt, nothing major. A bullet to the side was hardly anything to cry about. You wouldn’t admit it, mainly to keep your pride in check, but you’d never been in this much pain before. You suppose that was due to being yourself for the first time after just being a hazy killer. You were completely off your game—the team couldn’t have someone on it who was slacking. God, you really needed to sleep. 

Valentina sent you to the infirmary room, whether by means of actual care (unlikely) or avoiding a potential PR crisis (likely), to get patched up. You hadn’t been in a room like this for a while. It was too sterile, too white—everyone dressed the same and held your arms down while they injected you with poison. You shook your head—your memories were starting to blend into reality. You just took a deep breath as the doctor tied in some stitches. You winced before turning your head away—you were still so squeamish. 

The doctor instructed you to wait about half an hour, so all the stitches could settle. She seemed firm on that, like she knew you would go straight to the training room and tear them. 

You were mindlessly flicking through the channels on the TV when Bucky stormed into the infirmary bay. You had been thinking about him when you realized you had gotten hurt, and again when the Doctor patched you up. Maybe this could be the chance to confide in him. Your head lifted expectantly to see Bucky huffing, his eyebrows crossed. 

“Do you want to tell me what in god’s name were you thinking?”

The flicker in your eyes vanished as you felt disappointment rear to the forefront. “What?”

He placed his hands on his hips, eyes bearing into yours. “Mission debrief with Walker, he told me you just disappeared. You can’t just—” He threw up his hands, frustratingly trailing off. 

All your notions of speaking with him vanished, and you were left with anger—did he not think you were good enough on the team? You sat up in the bed, crossing your own arms in response. “I can’t what?”

“You could’ve died.”

You scoffed, “I would’ve been fine.”

Bucky let out a shaky breath. “You don’t know that, not for certain. You and I both know your powers won’t save you forever.”

It was true—there was a lingering feeling of death in your heart. Every time you sank back, you got a little closer to the gates of death—just an inch. Her whispers got louder each time—you’d already imagined how Death's soothing voice would lull you to eternal sleep. You took a purposeful breath. “We were just gathering intel. I would’ve been fine.”

Bucky seemed to scoff, his voice taking on a frustrated quality, “But you weren’t fine! You got shot! Did you ever think about what might happen if you went into a warehouse of armed thugs, vulnerable and alone? When you were supposed to be gathering intel only, mind you? Do you know what happens? You get shot, that’s what happens.”

He was so frustrated, not at you, but himself—he knew it wasn’t your fault, that he was most definitely overreacting. All he wanted was to see you get some proper rest, take care of yourself. He knew this slip-up wouldn’t have happened if you finally begun to discuss what happened to you all these years before. 

He continued, his voice dropping a bit, “We both know that was reckless, you leaving on your own.”

“It wasn’t reckless, you’re being paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” He ran his hand through his messy hair. “I’m sorry if caring about you is somehow alarming, because we both know why you’d be more susceptible to discipline.” He didn’t care, he couldn’t—you had so little care for your own life.

He left on that note, as a pit formed in your stomach—you were so quick to defend yourself from criticism because you knew what that led to. He knew as well. But surely he wasn’t that disappointed in you, right?

He hadn’t spoken to you for the rest of the night, but you suppose neither had you. You didn’t seek his care out; you just sheltered away in your room. You weren’t just exhausted, you were scared—you’d be scared ever since the void, ever since Hydra. It all hit you at once. You were just a scared little girl again—fearing the feeling of being in trouble, that deep drop in the stomach as your knees began to bounce. 

You were dragged out of your thoughts when you heard a soft knocking at your door, uncharacteristically soft. You took a breath before opening the door. Yelena stood in front of your room, a bit of a troubled look on her face. 

“Bob was worried about you…” She began running her fingers across her rings. “He didn’t know what to do; he said he’d talked to Bucky, but when he overheard your argument—”

You pulled her inside when she said that, lest Bucky hear her with his keen super senses. “Yelena, shh, get inside!”

She chuckled at your grip, not commenting on the fact that it was extremely weak, “Oi, alright, Bones. I got the memo, you’re in love with Bucky.”

Your face flushed as you shook your head, a bit too many times. “Bucky? I’m not—why would I be in love with him? That’s so insane…” You trailed off the horribly executed lie. 

She frowned, “I’m happy for you, but now I owe Alexi five bucks.”

You blinked, “You were betting on me?”

“Oi, don’t be so surprised.” She smirked before turning to leave your room, “Bob wants you to hear his gift ideas, oh, and his cookie recipes.”

You smiled, of course Bob would help you with something like that. Bless his heart. Yelena felt the conflict was resolved, and honestly, she wasn't very good at comforting people—so this was considered a win.

She paused for a moment. “Oh, we’re going out for drinks, you in?”

You shook your head, to which she just shrugged. “Have a nice night.”

Like almost every night, the team was going out for drinks—booze was one of the easiest coping mechanisms for trauma-induced heroes. Although Yelena and Alexi’s vice of choice was gambling on your love life. So, like usual, you declined. 

Bucky also declined going out for drinks, but covered it under the guise of not caring, which was pretty much every time they had invited him out for drinks. He was 109 years old, and sometimes you just wanted to curl up with your first edition of The Hobbit like a proper lad. But his reasoning today was due to the guilt he felt. He should never have blown up at you like that; it was unwarranted.

He knew you weren’t going to the bar; you never had. But yours was for a different reason, Bucky knew how you felt around loud spaces, the overwhelming sense of claustrophobia. It used to happen to him, especially in Budapest. When he’d travel to the food markets with his hat hung low and a glove on his metal hand, he could sometimes get shuffled in the crowd, disoriented with all the people and noises. Sure enough, he was always able to calm himself down with a fresh plum. So, how could he help you with calming down after all your years of pain? 

You were roused out of a spiteful meditation session when Bucky knocked on your door. He stood in front of you, “Could we talk?” 

Your eyes widened, “About what…exactly?”

He awkwardly smiled at you, “When I lashed out at you earlier today. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.”

You smiled softly before taking a shaky breath, “You’re right, though, I was being reckless. Truth is, I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“I’ve noticed. You’re nervous, you don’t get nervous.”

Your fingers twitched against one another—it was embarrassing how easily you let yourself slip up. The thunder began shortly after. It was impactful, coming just out of nowhere. Bucky’s jump at the thunder was less forceful—still, for a few seconds, he was transported back. But his fear could be settled now. He was no longer the same man he had been – he had worked through these challenges, even when they were difficult.

He couldn’t say the same about you—he’d heard your rushed breaths as they came in. His hand clasped yours immediately. You started to explain, but your voice wavered, “I…”

“Just focus on me.”

You could hear him until the next flash of lightning, thunder booming against your mind. Your breath quickened as a sickening chill ran down your body. You buried your head in your hands. The lightning bolts felt as though they were ringing inside your ears. Seeing you like this, it broke Bucky’s heart. He wanted to alleviate it, to help put the past behind you. You huffed, laying your head onto his chest, looking up at him with teary eyes, “The noise, everything was rushing back…”

He shook his head as he held your hands, “Take a breath, doll. You’re safe with me.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath before another boom began to erupt. You frowned, but Bucky was quicker, holding your ears in his hands. You smiled up at him—it made you fuzzy, how much he cared. 

He kissed your forehead, “You want to stay with me tonight?”

You nodded without hesitation—you couldn’t do this alone anymore. 

He smiled, walking with you back to his room. You slid under the comforter before Bucky shuffled in afterwards. He let you lie against his chest, his hand near your ear. The thunder struck, Bucky stroking your cheek. “Focus on me, doll, not the thunder…”

You let his soft words lull you into a sweet slumber, Bucky the only thing on your mind. 

You woke up after the thunder had ceased. Bucky holding you tightly against his chest with a book in the other. You smiled, blinking up at him. Bucky smiled and ran his hand through your hair, “Are you feeling better?”

You softly looked up at him, “Uh-huh, still tired though.”

“That’s completely normal, those memories bring up pain, but it gets better. I know it will. Get some more rest.” 

You smiled, curling closer to his chest, inhaling his sweet cedar scent. You let yourself completely relax in the moment. Bucky chuckled at your soft face, holding you tighter, “Think we should sleep in tomorrow?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re such a dork.”

“We could go for brunch, Bob said he found a spot.”

You yawned softly as you smiled up at him, “That sounds nice.”

He smiled, pressing one last kiss to your forehead, “Brunch with Bob it is.”

And at that moment, everything was calm. 

[gabsandbucky]

I had a bit of a busy month, so there were some delays. I do, however, have many one-shots in the works, so please vote for what you'd like to see. ✨🫶🏽🍪🦕

WIP preferences

Spencer Reid x Reader (a snowy day comes with clumsiness)

Din Djarin x Reader (finds you as a stowaway in his ship)

Eddie Munson x reader (witchy vibes in nature)

Remus Lupin x reader (potter!reader, studious to your detriment)

Voting ended onFeb 1

Updating

Spencer Reid, A Slippery Slope. Eddie Munson: Bewitching

[gabsandbucky]

Practice Makes Perfect

wc: 2.6k

Pairing: Tim Drake x Constantine!Reader

Summary: You ask Tim to teach you how to kiss. What kind of best friend would he be if he were to decline? Warnings: 18+, smut, inexperienced!reader, kissing, dry-humping, fingering.

divider by: @uzmacchiato

AN: trying to bring some recognition to our boy Timmy Drake.

You weren’t very experienced, it was true. Your formative teenage years hadn’t been spent making out or dry-humping—you hadn’t any time for that. And it wasn’t like you were too busy studying, no, you were too busy exorcising demons. Even with things like school dances, you had always ended up leaving halfway through because, well, demons again. 

If you even mentioned liking a guy or girl to Constantine, he would just claim they were a demon, and you needed to train more. They hadn’t been demons, but your overbearing father would’ve never let you out of his sight. Therefore, freshly on the cusp of adulthood, you realized that you were completely inexperienced. 

You kept all these insecurities bottled deep down—something you learnt from your father. If you were to confide in someone, of course, it would be Tim. You and Tim Drake met like most teenage vigilantes, through your parents. Batman was dealing with an occult issue and called in Constantine to help. You came along begrudgingly until Bruce introduced you to Tim. Tim was your person, your best friend. You told him everything, except for your embarrassing non-existent sexual past. 

It was only fitting that Tim’s apartment be your sanctuary—a tiny piece of property owned by someone who wasn’t your father. No rules about curfew, magic, or mentioning his nicotine problem. You were grateful to your best friend for letting you come and go as you pleased. It became routine, you spent most nights there—Tim had insisted on making you a key.

It was no surprise to Tim to see you lounging on the couch when he returned from Wayne Enterprises. You were locked into your phone—you had made a grave error, and you turned to online dating. You felt stupid for doing so, but you didn’t have any other avenue of possible connections. The people in Gotham you saw were either villains or demons—your options were limited. 

But the prospective suitors on the dating app were terrible. They were either extremely boring or extremely creepy. You had almost given up hope until Mark messaged you. He was a sweet guy, an aspiring veterinarian who’d grown up in Gotham. You had told him you loved animals too, although you left out the part that your animal expertise was more of the otherworldly fauna, hellhounds, dragons, all the works. You figured it would do no harm to message him; he was sweet. 

It had gone farther than you suspected. Mark really liked talking to you and invited you on a date. You were so worried that you had gone to the lengths of begging for a possession case, but they never really came when you wanted. Your eyes were sharp as you read the message: “Can’t wait to see you tonight ;).”

A winky face—you were screwed. How could you face his flirty gestures as a complete fraud? You threw your phone beside you, burying your head in the pillow with a loud groan. 

Tim was in the midst of untying his serpent tie when his eyes were drawn to your dramatics. “Jeez, what is up with you?”

You looked up at him, despair clear as day to the young detective. He sighed, “Oh, so it’s bad…”

You shoved your face back into the pillow, hoping that all the feathers would engulf you. Tim tried to pull you up out of your spiral. “Enough with the pillows, talk to Timmy…”

You sighed, sitting up. You held your stomach gently, the nerves rumbling through it. “There’s this guy I’ve been talking to…and he wants to take me out on a date, but it’s just…I’ve never kissed someone before.”

That’s not what Tim was expecting, so he couldn’t mask his shock, nor the drop of his jaw. 

“Tim!” You groaned.

He chuckled, reaching for your hand. “I’m sorry…it’s just you’re so pretty. It surprised me, that’s all.”

You rubbed your eyes as you looked up at him. The stress was resonating in you like waves. “What do I do, Tim?”

Tim held your hand, gently caressing your knuckles. “Well, if he’s a decent guy, then he won’t care…and it’s simpler than you think…”

Simple? What sort of simplicity comes with the most romantic profession of love? The stakes were too high. You had one final move, yet you were too worried to say it. What if you ruined your entire friendship? You couldn’t take that chance; then again, you didn’t want to take the chance at being an unqualified kisser. Your stress led you to blurt out, “Can you teach me to kiss?”

Tim’s face went beet-red. “You want me to do what?”

Had he heard you right? Kissing…him? You wanted to kiss Tim? Tim, as in him? As in Red Robin sitting beside you?

You frowned, “What, is it so repulsive to even think about?”

Tim shook his head, “No, of course not. It’s just…are you sure?”

You glared at him—a typical response by you. Tim nodded, “Okay, you’re sure.”

“I really need the practice, please, Timmy?”

He relented—god, he could never say no to you. “...Fine.”

You felt ready—no, you didn’t, you felt terrified. What if you messed it all up? What if you accidentally cast a spell on him using your lips? Not that you knew that was a thing that could happen, just maybe. Tim reached out for your hand. “Hey, just say the word, and we can stop.”

You shook your head, nervously running your fingers along his knuckles. “I want to…I’m just nervous.”

He smiled, calming your nerves down. “It’s natural to be nervous…just relax, sit closer to me.”

You repositioned yourself on the couch, sitting inches away from Tim. Your fingers drummed by your side—it was all going to be fine. You’d exorcised thousands of demons; how hard could kissing be? You crossed your legs on the couch, eyes darting away from his. 

He shook his head, “You’ve got to look at me.”

You glared at him—of course, you knew that. Sometimes Tim was a smartass. You wanted to kick his teeth out, until you remembered he was doing you a favour. 

Tim could sense your turmoil—he was always so attuned to your emotions. He always knew just what to do. “Just do what feels natural.” 

“Natural…okay.” You mumbled to yourself. 

You stopped thinking about it and just leaned in, giving Tim a small peck. 

It was tiny, not more than a millisecond long. In all honesty, you thought you had done pretty well—it’s not like you knew how it was supposed to feel. 

“That’s it?” Tim asked, eyes wide. 

Oh god, that wasn’t the glowing review you were hoping for. 

You buried your head onto his shoulder, groaning, “I’m hopeless.”

“No, you’re not…lemme just…”

He pulled you back up, gently kissing against your lips. It was different than before—it wasn’t rushed, he took his time to make you swoon. He knew just how much pressure to use, enough to make your head spin. You sighed into the kiss, feeling his soft lips. Your stomach stirred with butterflies, but you didn’t mind. It was exciting. 

He tasted of coffee (he’d made the switch from energy drinks as you got older), and of course, mint—he always tried to hide his coffee habits. He would try to convince you that coffee was more sophisticated. To which you’d reply, not when you’re drinking five cups a day. You didn’t think it could feel any better until Tim reached for your neck. You gasped, letting him hold you in place—it was so intimate, him guiding you into the kiss. 

When he broke away, his lips were still inches away from you; it made your head dizzy. His breath was hot against your lips as he steadied his breathing. You tried to look up at him, but you felt so giddy. You wanted to kiss him more, to touch him, to hold him. Tim gently caressed your cheeks, trying to soothe you. “See, it’s easy…”

You nodded, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “Yeah, easy.”

After the kiss, Tim felt good. Holding you in his arms, having you so close to him, it was everything he ever dreamed of. He had to admit that he’d been harbouring a crush on you ever since Constatine had brought you along. You were unlike any other girl he’d met—you were smart and feisty. You were more than capable of keeping up with Tim. So his offer of further practice wasn’t for his sake; it was for yours. It would benefit you to learn more—that’s all. 

Tim placed his hands on your waist. “I could teach you something else…if you wanted.” He gently stroked your waist, keeping you close to him. 

“Please, Tim.”

Tim exhaled sharply—this was real, not a dream. “Put your hands on me…” 

You blinked, unsure of his instructions. He chuckled, reaching for your hands and placing them directly on his lap. 

You gasped, your hand meeting his bulge. Your eyes locked onto his, watching the lust pool in his serene irises. You thought you’d feel embarrassed, maybe ashamed, but you didn’t. Your thighs squeezed together as you tried to chase the tingling in your pussy. 

“Just like that…you can start moving.”

You nodded, guiding your hand down to his bulge, groaning at the weight of him in your hands. Even beneath his slacks, you could feel just how meaty he was. If you could learn how to kiss, then how hard was giving a handjob? You slipped your hand under his sweatpants, beginning to stroke him. 

“Oh fuck…” Tim whimpered, hands clenching into fists. 

You paused your hand, “Is this good?”

“God, so good. Just...mhm, keep going.”

His words inspired you to go faster, curling your wrist around his hard cock as you stroked. Tim moaned loudly before tugging you back into a kiss. And as much as you wanted to hear his moans, Tim slipping his tongue inside your mouth was also acceptable.  

In the heat of the kiss, Tim’s hands ran under your shirt, sparking goosebumps against your skin. His slender fingers found home at your chest, twisting around your hard nipples. You moaned, squeezing his cock faster. You’d never felt like this, so completely free in Tim’s arms. It was liberating, and oh, so intimate. You wanted to tease him a little, so you trailed kisses down his neck, leaving little marks in its wake. Tim gasped—you were always a quick learner. 

But the handjob wasn’t enough, Tim pulled you into his lap, situating you on top of his bulge. You moaned as you felt him brush against your shorts. He gazed into your eyes before devouring you in a long kiss. You never wanted to stop kissing him. You grew sloppier with your kisses. In the midst of craving any sort of stimulation, you had begun grinding on him. Your hips rocked against his lap a bit sheepishly, but as you moved, you felt better and better.  “Are you…” Tim asked, his eyes wide.

You paused your rocking, cursing yourself at the complete debauchery of your actions, “I’m sorry—”

But Tim wasn’t upset; he was turned on. He pulled you back into his lap, thrusting his bulge into your pussy. “Don’t be sorry…it feels good, really good. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

You let out a soft whine as his tongue kept exploring your mouth—you’d never expect kissing to get so sloppy. Tim’s kisses drove you so wild that you hadn’t even noticed his hand made it to the front of your pyjama shorts. “Do you want a little more?”

“Please…” You moaned. Tim smirked, kissing you once more. His hands focused on sliding off your tiny shorts to get to your panties. He pulled your panties to the side, gently stroking through your folds. He groaned, feeling the wetness on his fingers, “Shit…you’re soaking.”

It wasn’t just his words that made you dizzy; it was his skilled fingers. You knew he was a fast typer, but oh god, did it feel good. He began circling your swollen clit. You weren’t sure how he knew where it was—you’d overheard women talking about it all the time. But Tim was skilled. 

You whined from the pleasure, throwing your head back.  Sure, you’d touched yourself before—you weren’t a prude. But with Tim, it felt like he knew your body inside and out. He could play you like a fiddle, and fuck, it felt so good. 

He met your gaze, a whimpering tone to his voice, “Can I put my fingers inside?”

You looked down at his wet fingers inching towards your hole. You knew he’d only make you feel even better, so you agreed. The moment his finger slipped into your weeping hole, your pussy cried, wetness coating his fingers. Tim smirked—you were so responsive to him. It was a weird feeling, but it was good—you wanted him to fill you up. 

He knew you were untouched, so he started out slow. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you in any way. So he started with the one finger, which you took better than expected. You chased your pleasure with your rocking hips against his finger. He smirked, pushing another finger inside of you—he’d do anything for you. It was a tight fit; your eyes were squeezing shut. Tim relaxed you, “Easy…open up for me.” 

You let his words wash over you, relaxing the walls of your pussy. It was plenty of space to work with now, as he thrusted up and down. He couldn’t help but groan at how your pussy was made for him—but he’d wait until his cock was shoved inside of you. 

You moaned, your ears picking up the squelching of your crying pussy. But you didn’t care, because Tim milked your sopping pussy—you felt proud of your arousal. 

Tim groaned into your neck, “You’re so cute.” He kissed your neck, continuing to compliment you. “I’ve got the prettiest girl in the world, with the prettiest fucking pussy.”

You went back for another kiss, needing him to guide you to pleasure. “I’m close, Timmy…”

He smirked, kissing your cheek, “Yeah, you’re close, baby?” He thrust his fingers faster, while his adept thumb circled your clit, “I wanna see you come for me, baby.”

You let his words build up the pleasure inside of you, just as you rocked your hips into his hand. It wasn’t a steady rise; it was quick and fast. It was only a matter of time until you came. Tim could feel you clenching on his fingers, knowing you were ready, “Come all over my fingers.”

You cried out, your pussy squeezed around his fingers as he kept fingering you through your orgasm. The waves of pleasure continue to ebb and flow with his touches—you had to hold onto Tim just to be sure it wasn’t all a dream. When he finally concluded your orgasm to be finished, he held you against his chest. 

“Did such a good job, baby.”

Tim kissed you softly before sucking his fingers to clean off your delicious juices. You bit your lip as he moaned at the taste. You curled closer in his lap, your eyes growing heavy.  He looked down at you, “You tired?”

You nodded, kissing him softly, “Yeah, cuddle with me?”

He smiled, “Thought you’d never ask.”

He carried you in his arms to his bed, tucking you under the soft sheets. Your nose always picked up on the lavender detergent—it was your favourite, so Tim bought one for himself. He crawled into the bed after you, holding you tight against him. You turned your head to lie on his chest, Tim’s smile widening. Tim looked down at you, “You feel okay?”

You weren’t sure how to put it—you felt completely content. You were so relaxed, so carefree, but mostly, you were safe. 

“I feel more than okay, thank you, Tim…for everything.”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, holding you until your eyes grew hazy. “Have a good night, sweets.” 

You hummed, nuzzling against his chest, as Tim’s hands curled around your waist.

You knew you made the right decision—now, maybe he could help you lose your virginity.

[gabsandbucky]

holy sh!t steve‘s alive.. that fall really scared me..!

in celebration that we’ve got to keep steve i had this idea, set after they’ve defeated vecna. let’s pretend steve didn’t have that disgusting slimy stuff on him!🤧

they‘re riding back to the WSQK & everyone gets out of the truck except steve & gf!reader. reader clings to steve & starts kissing him, they make out & they’re literally so desperate that all the clothing’s still on, removing just as much to ride him. she’s tearing up while they’re doing it, holding each other so close. „i thought i lost you, steve…“ „it’s okay, i’m still here.. i’ve got you..!“ „i love you!!“ „i love you!!“ while they’re both crying so hard!!

happy end🫶🏼

AN: Happy New Year! So blessed that Steve is alive (or is he?) :)

The Epilogue to Love

Wc: 2.1k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Even as the dust settled and the war was won, you still couldn't help but shake off all the tragedies of the past. But all that mattered was that you had Steve, and no one was taking him away from you. Warnings: 18+, smut, hurt/comfort, minor season five spoilers, dryhumping, love confessions, unprotected (and emotional) sex,

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

The ride back to the WSQK was quiet. It seemed surreal—everything was over, you were no longer in any danger. Still then, why did it feel so off? After years of watching your back, worrying that a creature from the upside down was lingering, it was all over. Your gaze was fixed out the window, on the shining stars up above—yet it did nothing to quell your anxieties. Your limbs still shook with the adrenaline of battle. No one knew what to say, how to tidy up the conclusion of a lifetime of fear. Hawkins was safe now, yet you couldn’t help being afraid. 

You couldn’t stop repeating it, the moment when you'd almost lost Steve. You had wailed, voice raw with grief, as you watched him tumble off the side. Those few seconds had destroyed you, until Johnathan saved him. While the threat was no longer present, his near-death experience had shaken you. The weight hadn’t left your stomach, nor the worry. You began to fear that any wrong move would cost Steve his life. 

You hadn’t even noticed Steve park the van. The rest of the party headed out, needing a well-deserved rest, but not you. You were stuck in your head, panic seizing your mind over and over. Your fingers twitched against your lap in a hazy rhythm.

Steve had picked up on your quietness, but he figured it had been a long night and you were tired. He knew something was wrong when he heard the sharp hitch of your breath. In an instant, Steve unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to you. “Y/N?”

Your mind was fixed on tragedy—Steve’s body plunging down into the shadows, crimson lighting fluttering all around. It repeated itself over and over. Your throat tightened, stiff as a board. Worry swelled your heart as you squeezed your hand into a fist, hoping the sensation would ease you.

Steve’s fingers danced along your knuckles, soothing your tension.

“It’s done, we’re okay.”

His words reached your ears, causing your head to lift ever so slightly. Steve could see the glimmer of tears in your eyes, threatening to spill. 

He understood your feelings; it was taking everything in him not to break right now. He had been so worried for you, for Dustin, for the whole party. But he wouldn’t delve into that—not when you needed him more. God, all he needed was to see you smile again. 

“Y/N, talk to me…please.” You heard the way his voice cracked in his pleading. 

A droplet of water leaked from your eyes. “I thought I lost you, Steve…”

Steve reached for you, pulling both of you into the back of the van. He settled you gently, holding you tight against his chest. You curled into him, needing his embrace. You needed to convince yourself that everything was okay, that Steve was here with you. His heartbeat was proof of his existence—proof that he had survived.

No matter how you tried to trick your brain, your emotions still seized you. Your tears flowed like a hazy rain cloud. Steve frowned as he watched your shaky cries. He knew why you were feeling like this, no doubt, to the grief of almost losing one another, but how could he comfort you?

“I’m right here, sweetheart. We’re both okay," He mumbled, hands squeezing yours tightly. 

You looked up at Steve, letting him wipe your tears. It felt so intimate. Your mouth slightly lifted into a grin, just as Steve pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

You clung to him like a koala, hands clutching his back. His sweet kiss had spurred you on, and soon enough, your lips were pressing against his with an intense fervour. It was rushed, hurried—the emotions of all that panic coursing out of you like a storm. Steve accepted your kisses, returning them with his own ardour. 

It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him—you needed him close. His kisses made you dizzy, the way his tongue danced in your mouth. Oh boy, was Steve talented with his tongue.

You needed each other entirely; your very souls were intertwined. As Steve continued his kisses, you let out a moan. His large hands tightened around your waist, spurred on by your desires.

Your breath was heavy—emotions continued to seize you, small tears dripping down your cheek. Steve hungrily accepted your lips, despite the saltwater remains. He craved you more than oxygen. Steve’s hands dipped under your shirt, hot hands warming you up. You gasped as he pressed up against your ribs. The more he touched you, the more you ached for him. 

“I need to feel you, Steve…please.”

You'd spent countless nights in the back of the van with Steve during the crawls, yet that was all business—tonight, you'd indulge in pleasure.

His eyes widened as you looked up at him—he’d seen you like this before, during those late nights in your bedroom, where your thighs were spread about as he worked his cock inside you. Those nights, you had to be quiet, god forbid anyone heard you.

All Steve wanted was to hear your moans, your gasps—he wanted to know just how much you craved him. He whined softly, nodding, “God, I want you so badly.”

His backwards hat seemed to flutter off his head, revealing his prized locks. His hair curled in front of his face, and your fingers threaded into his strands to push it back. You rested your forehead against his, sighing softly, “You’re so beautiful…” 

Steve’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Not as beautiful as you.”

You just smiled, settling your thighs over his lap. There was a hint of desire in your eyes as you began to rock into his bulge. There was no mistaking the hardness underneath his tight green slacks. Your mouth watered thinking of the thickening of his cock beneath the fabric.

Your dry-humping started minimally. You had only needed the slightest bit of friction—the seam of your pants against his huge cock—to light you up. Steve winced, thrusting up into you a bit too hard.

"Shit, sorry..." He muttered, but you shushed him. You didn’t mind, not when you craved his cock. You wanted him to know your desires.

You sped up your rocking, hips rolling like a cowgirl. You could feel his rigid cock beneath his trousers as you rocked against it. Your tempo jutted up, faster and faster.

You could hear his grunts as he let lust overtake him. But Steve didn’t want to rock against you; he wanted, no, he needed to be inside you. But ever the dutiful boyfriend, he tried to compose himself—unsuccessfully.

He kept chasing the pleasure, even as his cock ached. He groaned into your mouth as he slid you back and forth onto his lap.

“Fuck, baby…please.” His words were finished with his frantic hands dipping underneath your jeans. He groaned as his fingers met the wet patch of your panties.

You whimpered, rutting against his hand. “Just fuck me, Steve…need it so bad.”

His eyes widened as he smiled, eyes crinkling.

“Yeah? Cause I really need to fuck you.”

You smirked at him, leaning into his ear. “Do it then…”

He moved back to your lips, devouring you entirely. Your head spun as you made out with him. It was sloppy and filled with yearning. But the whole thing made you too hot—god, he always made you so hot.

You barely pulled away, zipping down your jeans. You didn't care—you got rid of the fabric in the way as quickly as possible. Steve had the same idea. You gawked at Steve as he unbuttoned his slacks, tugging his fat cock out. 

It stood up straight, a slight curve to the left.

Your eyes fixated on his mushroom head, the pre-cum spilling out of the tip. You couldn’t wait to touch him—your sneaky hand crawling into his lap, stroking his heavy cock. You slowly dragged your hand up the pressing green vein against the flesh.

Steve whined, “Please…just let me fuck you.” His words were accentuated by the jump of his cock, bulging even bigger—which you didn't think possible—in front of you. It wasn’t long before he let his hand tug your panties to the side. He needed you.

Steve gazed at your pussy—she was completely soaked. He watched as you spread your folds, letting the wetness drip down onto his bulging cock. It was a scene of debauchery, presenting yourself as a goddess. Steve was more than willing to worship you.

You hovered over his bulbous head just enough that your folds began to suck him in. Steve groaned, watching as your pussy ever so slowly widened over his cock. You were so warm and wet—it wasn't enough, he needed to fill you up.

Steve stuffed his cock into your hole, causing your back to arch and a moan to leave your lips. Your hands slid to his shoulders, holding yourself upright. He thrust all the way inside of you before he paused. You both sighed, holding each other tight, comfortable in the space you had created. 

It wasn’t long before he began to move ever so slowly. It was a nice rhythm, but it wasn’t what you needed.

“Steve…” You moaned, leaning closer towards his lips. His hands came up to your cheeks as he just gazed at you. It was overwhelming, the feeling of being with him. It consumed your every thought, your every worry. His eyes glistened as he gazed at you with pure adoration.

You pulled away, eyes back to teary, “I was really scared, Steve. I thought I'd lost you..."

He wiped your tears away as he held you, “I was terrified too, thought it was the last time I'd ever see you.”

“You were?”

He nodded, holding your hand tightly. “The truth is...I can’t live without you, darling.”

Your lips quivered as you kissed his lips. It was an overwhelming feeling, caring about someone that much. But Steve dissuaded your concerns, letting you return to your pleasure.

You pushed up, his cock half inside you, before you began to roll your hips. Steve watched the entrancing sway of your hips as you bounced on him.

Steve whimpered, his own tears beginning to fall. You tugged on the bandana around his neck as he lurched closer to you. You rode him like you were the only two in the universe. The van felt hot, the humidity of your sex fogging up the windows, but you didn’t care. 

You both got closer and closer, crying as you held onto one another tight. 

“Feels so good…” He moaned, tears free-falling. He lifted up your shirt, suckling over your tits as you bounced. He could spend hours worshipping you. The impending sense of pleasure was rising, tears spilling out of you. 

Your legs were shaking, your strength beginning to ebb. Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and down on his cock. 

“I love you…” You whimpered out, ass bouncing onto his thighs.

He stared into your eyes, heart yearning for you. “I love you too.”

That was it. The waves built inside you as the dam burst. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you clenched down on him, shivers wracking through your body.

“Oh fuck, Steve," You cried. You could feel his cock stretching you out as you squeezed down. Steve tightened his arms around you, eyes beginning to roll back. “Oh shit, I’m gonna come too…”

You kept riding him through your pleasure as he shot up a pearly load into you, remnants of his love pulsing through you. You took one more bounce before collapsing against his chest. His warmth permeated inside you.

It was silent except for your heavy breaths.

“Can you hold me, Steve?”

His eyes flickered to yours, a soft smile squirming up. “Of course I will.”

You curled back against his chest, nuzzling against his neck. His cock softened inside of you as he kissed your forehead.

"Could you stay over tonight?" He asked.

"Only if you make pancakes in the morning."

He chuckled, gently stroking your hair. He had never been so in love. 

"Pancakes it is."

His eyes fell to the world outside, the soft, sleepy town of Hawkins. How could it be that so much terror had impacted one town? He'd feel cursed if it wasn't for you. You were the only thing that made sense to Steve. He couldn't decide what he loved most about you: if it was your kindness, your beauty, your ruthlessness in the face of danger?

Maybe what he loved most about you was just you. Nothing mattered while you were safe in his arms, knowing how much he loved you. The battle was won, and he could spend the rest of his love devoting himself to you. Steve couldn’t have asked for a better ending. 

[gabsandbucky]

Do You Ever Wonder?

wc: 2.2k

pairing: Dick Grayson x Wonder Girl!reader

Summary: The life of a superhero is tough, especially as a protege of Wonder Woman. Alas, you've had to find ways to cope; Dick helps you find a more...satisfying outlet. Or, the delusional dry-humping Dick Grayson we deserve. Warnings: 18+, smut, haley aka best dog, best-friends-to-lovers, sub!Dick, dry-humping, unprotected sex,

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

You and Dick were friends, just friends, nothing more. You’d been friends for years; Dick trained with Bruce, and you trained with Diana. Your childhood was spent alongside him, yet it had only ever been platonic. All that to say, you couldn’t explain his longing glances. You tried to forget about it, but the thought of his stares crawled into the back of your mind. 

After your stint as a sidekick to Diana, you knew you needed a change of scenery. Spending months at a time on Themyscira seemed idyllic, but it was mainly spent with nothing but nonstop training. When you had told Dick of your conundrum, he offered his spare bedroom. You accepted, despite the worrying feeling growing in your stomach—how would you handle being so close to him and not kissing him? It was utterly infuriating. 

The stipulation for moving out was still training with Diana a few times a week. You loved your mentor—she had moulded you into the warrior you were today. But you did have a few issues. Diana’s training style was built on the essence of keeping you on your toes. She never repeated a movement, nor showed any hesitancy in her hits.

She had told you when you were little that the only thing you needed for battle was the divine courage of your Amazonian ancestors. While that sentiment was sweet, Diana seemed to forget how you lacked the complete strength of an Amazonian. You weren’t just a human, nor were you really an Amazonian. You always felt lost. What you wanted in Diana was to confide in her, but her responsibilities as Wonder Woman went beyond you. 

You wondered what life would be like if you were just a human; you’d seen powerless heroes fight with the skill of a warrior. Dick had always impressed you, frequently besting your hand in combat. When the two of you sparred, it was playful. When you and Diana sparred, she pushed you beyond your brink. You were exhausted—you just couldn’t keep up. 

You sighed, before unlocking the door—trying to settle your tense muscles. You moved through your routine like clockwork, letting your coat hang on the rack. You heard Dick in the kitchen with his soft humming, but you couldn’t even work up the strength to smile. You slid your sneakers off, barely sparing the boy a glance as your door shut behind you. 

Dick had known you for years, and you were never this distant. He popped his head out of the kitchen, waiting for you to come out of your room—yet you never did. It was strange. He knocked on your bedroom door, shuffling his hands into his pockets. You opened the door, now clad in your pyjamas. He could see the exhaustion radiating off you. 

“Hi…” You mumbled, staring up at Dick. 

His mouth parted—how could he convey just how dull you seemed? He sighed softly, “You look tired…everything okay?”

You huffed—you knew why you looked tired. You barrelled into the couch, curling against the cushions, “Had training with Diana…again.”

Dick’s eyes followed you as you sat, before settling beside you, “That bad, huh?”

You let out a shuddery sigh, laying your head against his shoulder. You felt like you were going to break—your eyes were completely glassy, and your throat was tight. Everything had built up, and you were afraid it was all going to break. 

When you stopped responding to him, Dick’s heart sank. He gazed at you, noting the way you refused to meet his eyes. He gently caressed your cheek, “Hey, you know you can always talk to me?”

You sniffled softly, eyes finally meeting him. How could you explain the debilitating feeling of weight against your soul? “It’s too much, Dickie…” Your voice broke. 

It had always been hard for you to show your pain—Dick learnt that at a very early age when you had gotten stabbed on patrol and didn’t flinch. He knew you were carrying so much baggage, and he would always be there for you. 

Dick pulled you into his arms, shushing you gently as you cried, “Deep breaths for me, Wonder. It’s all gonna be okay. I think you’re doing a great job.”

His words soothed you, lulling you into a sense of calmness. It was okay, everything was okay. You repeated the mantra in your head, letting Dick pull you against his chest. You yearned for his embrace, as your whole body curled against his. 

“Just close your eyes. I’m not going anywhere.”

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised with Haley, Dick’s dog, licking your hand. You giggled as you looked down at the pup, letting your hand scratch along her head. Your soft coos to Haley is what Dick woke up to—and boy, how he wished he could wake up to you every day. When you looked at Dick, your heart fluttered: he looked so handsome in the morning, with the mussing of his hair. 

He yawned softly before he glanced down at Haley with a smile, “Haley, did you wake our Sleeping Beauty up?”

Haley yipped, nudging her nose into Dick’s hand. She wanted Dick’s attention before her gaze went back to her dog bed. She trodden back to her nap spot, lying down with her belly up. 

Your attention fell back onto Dick again as he pulled you into his lap, hand caressing your thigh. It was such a simple action, but it stirred something inside of you. 

“Dick…”

His eyes widened as he immediately stopped his actions—what had he been thinking? He pulled his hand back, “Sorry, I didn’t—”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining it with yours, “Don’t stop…please.”

With your sweet voice, he would do anything you asked of him. He leaned into your lips before capturing yours. It was the kind of kiss that made your head heavy, had your thighs squeezing together. You sighed into his kiss, listening to the heaviness of his breath. 

When he pulled away, he held your cheek in his hands just to look into your eyes, “Can…I keep going?”

“Please Dickie…”

Your words entranced him as he held you tighter. He would give you the world, expressing his passion in his sloppy kisses. 

“You’re so pretty,” He groaned, his kisses growing increasingly more needy. He explored your mouth with his devious tongue, moaning at your taste. tongue slipped in. 

Dick needed you closer; he tugged you farther down on his lap. He took the moment to just admire you; you were so beautiful. He grasped your hand tightly, sliding it over his chest. He wanted you to feel his love, to know just how deeply he cared for you. You groaned as he tugged you closer, lips melting against yours. 

You stared at one another, as a burning question at the back of each of your minds—would you ruin the friendship by sleeping with each other? You wanted his touch so badly, but you didn’t want your relationship to suffer. 

Dick held your cheeks, noticing your distress, “I can just…I don’t have to put it inside. It won’t count.”

You nodded, happy with his reasoning, “Okay, fuck please…”

He reached for your sweatpants, hands curling under the fabric as he pulled them down. He smiled to himself, noticing the little D.G. sharpied in the back—you always wore his clothes. Seeing your bare legs, Dick couldn’t help but kiss them, to caress you. He would show you his deep devotion.

When he removed his own sweatpants, you couldn’t help but groan. You weren’t sure his boxers could contain him, not with the way the fabric strained. You shuffle farther down in his lap, rubbing your pink panties against his clothed cock. He held onto your waist, rocking himself into you, the two of you dry-humping like teenagers. 

It felt incredible—Dick needing you completely for his pleasure. You returned to his lips, sucking into his mouth as he dragged across your swollen clit. You and Dick were insatiable. You rode along his cock as if it were inside of you, letting him slide across your wet cunt. It became easier to glide with your wetness coating the fabric, but you weren’t the only one. Dick’s boxers had begun to leak as his tip shifted against the fabric. You felt fuzzy, as if it was just you and Dick in this little world.

Dick was completely at your mercy—he knew you’d feel good, but oh God. His cock nudged against the fabric, both he and his member agreeing on something; they needed to be inside of you. He told himself he’d just rut against you, letting his cock slide against your slick. It was messy, both of your arousals mixing together. He hissed as he thrusted deeper into your lap, almost breaching your hole. “Christ, sorry.”

You stopped his movements, looking into his eyes, “Don’t be sorry, just…”

You pouted as you gently pulled down your panties. Dick’s fingers swiped through your folds; It was so wet, so hot. 

He held his cock in his hand—your pussy clenching at the thought of him stretching you out. But you’d restrain yourself, sure you would. Dick gently slapped his cock against your wet pussy, wanting to tease you a bit. It would’ve been mean had it not struck your clit and sent shocks down your spine. He let himself fully rut against you, your pussy gliding over his cock. 

His whines grew louder—it was a noise complaint in the making. Your hands dipped into his mouth, closing around your fingers and sucking on them. You moaned at his submission, pussy leaking against his member. 

You kissed him harder; there was no restraint, it was sloppy and rushed. His cock slid through your folds softly, but it wasn’t enough. “Faster…” You cried. 

Dick’s movements grew faster, as requested. It was too much, but it was so good. 

The entire time Dick was trying to be a gentleman, to restrain himself. But he couldn’t anymore, not with your soft, whiny moans. However, it had been an accident when his tip slipped in, “Fuck, didn’t mean to…”

But your pussy welcomed him in, and so did your moans. He nodded, “Okay, just the tip then.” He thrust back in, meaning your pussy clenched around his mushroom tip. You gently moved up and down the edge of his cock, riding him like a toy. He pushed the tip out before pushing back in. 

Dick was unsure why he was restraining himself when he saw how badly you were trying to hold back. Maybe it would be fine. You were just so warm around him, and so fucking tight. If it was a bad idea, why did it feel so good? Your pussy was calling to him.

He answered her call by pushing deeper into you, your pussy clenching on his shaft. He kept his movements slow, just in and out. 

He guided you onto your side, gently hitching up your leg as before his cock thrust back in. The new angle had you opening wide—you arched back, trying to push yourself further onto his cock. He moaned, his lips finding yours in a desperate state. 

His eyes squeezed closed as he held onto you tightly, “I need to fuck you…please.”

How could you say no to that? You pushed your leg farther behind your head, Dick salivating at your flexibility—this opened a whole wide world of positions. He smirked, rocking his pelvis into you, stretching you nicely. He eased any of your distress as his hands teased your nipples—he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure. 

Your pussy was made for him, as she clenched down along his shaft. Dick couldn’t take it anymore. His teary eyes found yours, “Please, let me fill you up.”

His voice broke as he tried to keep his tight thrusts, “Please…oh, let me come.”

“Yeah, my birdie wants to come…do it then.” 

You felt his grip tightening around you—listening to, at last, his whimper, “Please come with me…Oh fuck…”

His cock throbbed inside of you, squeezing before it burst. His load spurted into you, the warmth comforting. You had followed quickly behind him, thanks to your tactical fingers around your clit. Your pussy clenched down, milking his cock every drop worth. It was heaven—a sticky heaven. Aftershocks ran through both of you as you held him tight.

He whimpered against you, coming down from his high, “Thank you…oh fuck, so good.” It had been a long wind-up, so the coming-down was tiring. He gently pulled out, watching as his cum leaked down your thighs.

He gasped before pushing back in, “Don’t want to waste a drop.” You let him stuff you full of his cum as you bit your lip—he was slurping against your folds. You knew you needed him to eat you out for every meal. 

The two of you sighed, still tightly connected, foreheads resting against one another. Sweat beaded across your forehead, and you were sticky—yet, none of that mattered to you. Dick was here with you, and you both were safe. It made your heart flutter. Dick held you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know that wasn’t really just the tip, sorry…”

You giggled as you held onto his hand, “I wanted all of you, that’s what I got.”

“Good,” He nodded, before kissing your lips, “I love you.”

Your heart fluttered, “I love you too, Dick Grayson.”

[gabsandbucky]

i’ve got another steddiexreader smut idea..

robin, steve, nancy, jonathan, eddie & reader go to the hideout for a drink (let’s pretend they’re all 21). at some point of the night steve goes off to the toilets. some minutes later eddie & reader go into the same toilet, heavily making out, dirty talking, while steve is still in one of the stalls, listening cause he’s like „i can’t get out now, it’d be awkward..“

soooo the two know steve’s in there listening, they start dry humping, moaning & finally eddie fucks her againt the sink. at this point steve’s rock hard, sooo turned on.. then eddie says „say his name, cmon..“ & reader then moans steve’s name!😮‍💨

eddie’s all like „fuck.. yeah, you want him to fuck you??“, reader says „yes!!“ & steve’s so shocked, eyes wide open!! did he hear that right? one of his best friends wants him to fuck her?? & her boyfriend, also one of his best friends, supporting it?? he must be dreaming..

this is getting long so, they cum, leave the toilet & some days later at a party all three get a bit drunk & steve admits what he heard, eddie admitting they knew he was listening & boom they have a threesome.🤭

You are singlehandedly fuelling my Steddie x reader agenda... (I changed it a little bit, hope you enjoy!)

Steve’s Bisexual Awakening

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

wc. 4.1k

Summary: After a recent string of bad dates, Steve's given up on love. Yet, it doesn't explain the way he feels about you...or his feelings towards Eddie. In short, Steve has a bisexual awakening. Warnings: 18+, smut, dryhumping, oral sex (f!receiving), threesome, fingering, cumplay, anal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m!receiving),

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

The Hideout had unofficially become your new group hangout. It was nothing special: a dingy interior, cheap beer, and the one odd flickering light in the bathroom. It didn’t help that the service wasn’t great, and the patrons were usually double your age. Despite all this, you loved your Saturday nights with your friends. It gave you a reprieve away from the kiddos, as much as you loved them, sometimes you just wanted to dance in a sleazy bar with Eddie’s hands all over you without the gross gagging from teenagers. 

This Saturday was no different than the others—you got ready at Eddie’s trailer while he napped. You smiled over at the sleeping boy as you started on your hair. By the time you were finishing applying your lipstick, Eddie had come up behind you. 

“You look so pretty…” He mumbled before kissing your lips, the scarlet mark striking across his own lips. 

You huffed, eyes flickering to yourself in the mirror, “Eds, I have to reapply now.”

He smirked, gently smearing the red lipstick against your neck, “I’m sorry that my girlfriend’s so kissable.”

You rolled your eyes, just for Eddie to run his hands across your ass. You smacked his hand back. “Oi, you do remember we need to leave at ten.”

Eddie pouted, “Can’t we just—”

“No, we were late last time. I can’t stand disappointing Robin again.

“Fine—lemme just...I'll go put on my shoes.”

You made sure you had all your essentials in your bag before you left his room. You leaned across the wall, watching Eddie tie up his shoes. He curtseyed before you, outstretching his hand. You giggled as you handed him your purple purse. He looked at your lips, seeing the freshly applied crimson. “Would a kiss on the cheek be acceptable for the princess?”

You softly nodded as Eddie pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. He knelt back down as he pulled out your Doc Martens, unlacing them before sliding them over your striped socks. He knew how much you hated to tie your shoes, especially with the laces of your boots. Eddie was considerate in that way, in any way, regarding you. You were the centre of his universe, and he’d do anything to make you smile. 

Before you left the trailer, Eddie slung his denim jacket over your bare shoulders, “Don’t want you to get cold, princess.”

Your heart fluttered as you accepted the gesture, “Thanks, Eddie.”

He sheepishly grinned, opening the door of his van for you. “After you…”

You hopped into your seat, leaning back against the headrest. Eddie jumped into the driver’s seat, his head turned to you. “Have everything?”

You nodded, “Uh-huh.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Even your lipstick?”

You frowned as you held your head—curse you for forgetting something again. 

Eddie handed you the lipstick, with a wide grin, “Grabbed it for you.”

You looked up at him with lust in your eyes—god, he was so fucking considerate.

“We could always be a little late…” You started to say as you undid your seatbelt, slowly crawling into the backseats. Eddie’s eyes widened before he followed after you, laying you down on your cute picnic blanket. He slid his hand under your skirt, gasping, “Fuck, missed this pretty pussy.”

Every Saturday, Steve arrived at nine o’clock, like clockwork. His responsible nature only started to form with his role as a babysitter. Turns out, protecting a bunch of kids with only a nailed bat can bring about profound life changes. Stepping into the dingy bar, Steve barely had to wait a second before Robin waved over to him. Robin at least brightened up his day, his best friend rambling about some wacky theory with Nancy. Steve smiled, heading over to the bar to pick up a drink. 

It was then that he looked over the group: there was Nancy and Rob, and what seemed like Jonathan at the bar, but neither you nor Eddie. He wondered what the two of you were doing, probably a spontaneous act of love. The thought made him churn—he missed being in love. Perhaps that’s why he started going to the hideout, to try to distract his mind. Steve sipped on his beer, eyes glancing at his watch—it was going to be a long night. 

Steve had been tired of his love life, or lack thereof. It was just date after date, bad after bad. No one seemed to stick. He knew he was desirable with his charming smile and bouncy hair, so it couldn’t have been him. They were utterly horrible—one girl had asked if he was balding, which sent Steve into an existential crisis. It was hopeless.

He turned his head just as the door swung open, you and Eddie walking into the bar together. Steve sighed, going back to his beer—it was unfair how perfect you looked. Your hair had this effortless messiness to it as you bounced in your dark boots. Steve felt guilty because, however attractive he thought you were, he thought the same about Eddie. He wouldn’t admit this to anyone but himself, but Eddie stirred something inside of him. He wasn’t sure if it was the confidence or the guitar-playing, but Steve had fallen. So Steve was stuck between his two friends who were already happily dating—shit.

Robin greeted you and Eddie as you approached your regular table. Her smile grew wider at the sight of her dear friend. “Would you like a shot for surviving another week?”

You grabbed one of the various glasses on the table before smiling, “Oh, cheers to that.”

Eddie chuckled at your eagerness, sliding one of the glasses to Steve, “Rough week?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised—was he being so obvious? Steve shook his head, “Just tired…”

Eddie nodded before looking back at you, his hand sliding to your thigh. You smiled, leaning into the metalhead, intertwining your hand with his. 

Steve squeezed his eyes, trying to contain himself. It was too much for Steve—Christ, it was unbearable. He quickly headed to the bathroom, “Pardon me…”

Steve’s disappearance was lost on the two of you. You were focused on Eddie and the tight grip on his beer bottle. You bit your lip, running your hand across his knuckles. 

His head turned as he took in your state, “Yes, Princess?”

Your hand twirled the mini umbrella in your pink cocktail with a hum.

“You look pretty.” You leaned against his shoulder, as your eyes fluttered. 

Eddie smirked, hands curling into your hair, “You’re the pretty one.”

You felt your cheeks warm up before you dragged your hand across his thigh, “Eddie…”

He stroked your cheek before grabbing your wrist, “Come on…”

The dingy bathroom did nothing to ease the queasiness in Steve’s stomach. He pressed his hands against his forehead—at this point, true love was far away. He was in the middle of locking the stall door when he heard the bathroom door swing open. He wasn’t paying much attention until he heard your whine. Steve’s eyes peered through the crack, watching you and Eddie make out. 

Eddie kissed your lips down to your neck—he knew how to tease you. You whined, wrapping your arms around him as you began rocking your hips into his. It was so intimate, grinding on each other fully clothed, but you couldn’t help it, Eddie made you feel so hot. You had hitched your skirt up, revealing your pink panties. Eddie groaned, rubbing his tight jeans against the thin fabric. You didn’t care who saw—all you cared about was reaching your peak. Steve gulped, slowly sinking back into the stall, listening to your moans. 

“Eddie…” You gasped out as his bulge met your aching clit. 

He chuckled, grinding deeper into you, “Feels good?”

You nodded, your whines broken. It was too much, but not enough. You reached for Eddie’s hands directly to the wet spot. 

He chuckled, “Is my pretty pussy feeling neglected?”

You whimpered, to which Eddie happily obliged your pleasure. He lifted you onto the sink before kneeling before you. He pulled the fabric to the side as he gazed into your dripping pussy. He softly circled your clit, watching as your hips bucked from the minimal stimulation. You threw your head back at the sensation; Eddie loved to tease you. 

His mouth watered as he stared into your weeping folds. Your pussy was beautiful, with her soft curls and aching hole. Eddie didn’t waste any time before kissing your clit, wrapping his supple lips around the bud. 

You whimpered louder, tugging his hair, “Eddie, fuck, fingers please.”

He pulled away, wetness dripping down his chin, “Anything for you.”

From within the stall, Steve had held his breath—this was so wrong. His hand wandered down to his jeans—his bulge was straining against the fabric, aching for release. He couldn’t help it; this was his biggest wet dream come true. Touching himself wouldn’t hurt, right?

Eddie held out his two fingers, sucking on them generously before inserting them into your hole. You moaned at the intrusion, your thighs opening wider to let him inside.

“Such a good girl.” He smirked. 

You bit your lip as he pushed in slowly, curling up to your G-spot. You whimpered just for Eddie to remove his fingers. His alluring brown eyes were entranced with your slick. He sucked his fingers again, this time moaning at your taste. You tugged his hair, causing him to refocus, “Shit, sorry…”

He kissed your clit before fingering you again—drawing out all your moans thanks to how deep his long fingers reached.

“Eddie…oh fuck.” You cried. 

He kissed your thighs as he nodded, “I know, princess. You’re doing so good for me.”

You groaned as he pushed faster into you, your eyes squeezing closed. It was getting too much; you could feel it building up. Eddie’s other hand squeezed your ass as he worked a third finger into your pussy. You whimpered—you felt so full, yet you needed more

Steve bit his lip as he stared at his cock—he’d never been so hard before; he was pulsating, staring at how his cock yearned. He watched the precum leak all over his hand as he grasped his cock. He had to swallow all his moans—he could never let you both find out about this. The sound of your wet pussy against Eddie’s fingers was too much. He squeezed his cock tightly, trying not to come prematurely, lest they both hear him. The pressure was building in his cock, and Steve was too hard to feel guilty.

“Come for me,” Eddie said, his eyes locked with yours. 

Eddie’s command had Steve coming all over his hand. He’d never come so much before—the seed dripped down his hands, pearly white. Steve stared at it before licking his hands like a slut. God, he was so sweet. It was then that the guilt set in: had he just jerked himself off to you and Eddie?

Steve couldn’t tear himself away from your orgasm, watching your thighs shake around Eddie’s firm hands. You cried—sometimes the pleasure became too much. Eddie understood your body and how overwhelmed you could get. He held your hand tightly as he kissed your pussy softly. He slurped all your juices up before coming back up to kiss you. 

Eddie grinned, sliding your panties back over your pussy, “You good?”

“Uh-huh…”  You sighed, moaning into another kiss. 

Eddie chuckled at your blissed-out face, “Better head back before anyone notices…”

The entire week, Steve felt a pit in his stomach. You and Eddie didn’t know of his infraction; if you did, well, he figured he’d be six feet under by now. He was trying to take the week to relax. The group only got together once a week—or so he thought. Robin told him all about the party Eddie’s friend was hosting and how he’d scored them all invites. House parties brought Steve back to his high school years, a shudder wracking through his body. So no, he didn’t want to go—but Robin was good at convincing him. 

Steve planned to drink to forget—a real adult way to fix his problems. As much as he tried to hide it, he looked miserable. Robin cracked open a beer, her head tilting to Steve, “Everything good?”

Steve looked up from the lukewarm can in his hand, “I suppose…”

Robin smirked, “Oh, Steve…” She grabbed a joint from her pocket and offered it to him, “I believe you need this more than I do.”

Steve smiled widely, thanking Robin, before heading outside to smoke up. 

Robin grabbed a joint from her pocket and gave it to him, “The beer sucks…smoking will help.” Steve couldn’t agree more. 

One can say that Steve’s tolerance changed when he had kids (if babysitting was on par with maternity). He hadn’t smoked as much as he had in high school, leading to the embarrassing realization of how high he really was. Eddie was the first one to find Steve lounging on the couch with a wide grin. 

Eddie tapped the boy, trying to grab his attention, “Harrington, everything alright?”

Steve’s head softly turned, his eyes slowly widening, “Munson!”

Steve wrapped his hands around the metalhead in an unusually friendly gesture. Eddie just politely reciprocated, “You’re so high right now.”

Steve chuckled, leaning back into the couch, mumbling something into the cushion. 

Eddie’s ears perked up as you approached him, curling up in his lap. Your gaze fell to Steve as you, too, picked up on his inebriation. 

“Having fun, Steve?”

Steve smiled at the two of you, “I’m so happy for you guys.”

You and Eddie blinked at one another, just for Steve to continue, “The hottest people in Hawkins get together…and you’ll probably make the cutest babies…meanwhile, I’m an unpaid babysitter.” His mouth turned into a frown, worry brewing in your stomach. 

Your eyes softened just as you reached for Steve’s hand, “Steve, you’re a hot guy.”

Steve’s eyes widened as he hiccuped, “Really?”

Eddie laughed, his hand reaching for Steve’s hair. “You’re very hot, Steve.”

Steve nuzzled into Eddie’s touch. Eddie brought his lips up to Steve’s ear, voice dropping to a whisper, “I mean, with your tight jeans…makes me wonder…”

Your thighs squeezed together at Eddie’s admission. It was true, you and Eddie were as fluid as queer people could be. You both found each other, sure, but there was always this lingering feeling of something missing. You loved Eddie, but you wanted him to be able to experiment with men, just as you had done with women.

Steve stared at both of you, “I think I’m really high…did you just call me hot?”

You giggled, “He called you a lot more than hot…” Your hands trailed down to his lap, with a devilish smirk. Steve gulped, staring at the two of you; this had to be a nightmare, in which you and Eddie were tempting him with the debauchery of sex. He was waiting for the punchline or for Eddie to beat the shit out of him. But it never came—Steve had to reckon with the fact that it was real. You felt the way Steve’s cock hardened and pushed against his tight jeans. It was unmistakable. Eddie smirked, “There’s the big boy…”

You were certain how you got into this situation, well, not really. The lust tumbling between the three of you was unmistakable. You suppose that’s how you ended up in Eddie’s trailer. Stepping inside, you watched as Steve untied his shoes before placing his jacket on the coatrack. You giggled at his manners—Steve was always such a good guest. You reached for his face, kissing him passionately. Steve moaned into the kiss, his hands reaching around to hold his waist. You and he kissed for a few minutes before he pulled back, “Where’s Eddie?”

Eddie walked out of his room in his boxers, a joint resting in his hand, “Called for me, pretty boy?”

You giggled, kissing Eddie before taking a hit of the joint. You sensually blew the smoke to the side, all while never breaking eye contact with Steve. When you handed him the joint, he gulped—his eyes had wandered to Eddie’s. Of course, he knew Eddie had tattoos, but he hadn’t known it would make him feel this turned on. But that could also be from watching your hands drag across Eddie’s pale chest to tweak his nipples. Eddie’s hips bucked in your palm, Steve’s eyes narrowing in on his cock. You turned to look at Steve, “Ready?”

Steve wasn’t ready; nothing could prepare him for this. The room smelled like weed and sex; his senses were fuzzy. The weed had stirred him up like a carbonated drink—he was fizzing and aching for release. The whole time felt like heaven; you were on one side of him, kissing down his neck, while Eddie reached his cold hands under Steve’s shirt before kissing his ear. It felt like all his sensations were yours to play with. 

Steve moaned as Eddie tugged off his shirt, revealing his hairy chest. You must admit you did crave that ruggedness. Eddie was pretty much a hairless cat aside from his curly mop. You bit your lip as your hands wandered down Steve’s chest. He gulped before you tugged him into another kiss. 

Eddie was happy to take the lead, pulling down Steve’s tight jeans. This was everything he had been dreaming about: Steve’s cock. Eddie had never done this before, but he knew how he liked you to suck his dick, so how hard could it be? Steve whimpered as Eddie pulled his cock out of his boxers, the size of it appealing. His cock slapped against his stomach as you and Eddie both stared—Eddie was above average, but it was his length that got you. With Steve, it was all about his girth. Face-to-face with the hard cock, Eddie salivated, “Can I suck your cock, big boy?”

Steve nodded immediately, focusing on the way you kissed his chest and Eddie kissed his cock. His tip was aching, as Eddie teased him, slurping up his precome on his tongue. He closed his lips around the tip, dragging down to the shaft. Steve moaned; his mouth felt so fucking good. Eddie pulled up, saliva dripping down his chin.

You giggled as you kissed along Steve’s cock, focusing on the green vein that pulsed under your touch. You pulled Eddie close as you began to kiss him, all while Steve’s cock was between you. This was the hottest thing Steve had ever seen. Before long, Eddie went back to sucking Steve’s cock while you sucked along his balls. Steve moaned, his abdomen clenched as his cock began to tighten. “Oh shit…please, I’m gonna come.”

Eddie bobbed his head down further before stroking the rest of his cock. Steve spurted his heavy load into Eddie’s mouth, watching as it filled up and it dripped down his chin. You licked up the leftover cum, before making out with Eddie to swap the rest of Steve’s cum. Steve’s eyes widened; his cock was already starting to get hard. 

You looked up at Steve and kissed his cock, “You taste so good, Stevie.”

Eddie smirked as he licked his fingers, “So fucking good.”

This was all about Steve, and you’d do your part. You pulled off your dress, letting your tits out. Steve gulped, his mouth open like a fish. Eddie chuckled as he tugged Steve’s hair, bringing him down to your tit. “Yeah, you wanna suck on my girl’s tits?”

Steve nodded as his lips closed around your nipples. You moaned softly, giving Steve the confidence to suck harder, practically devouring them. You couldn’t help but buck your hips against his thigh, to which Eddie smirked, “I’ll get you prepared, princess…”

He lay you on your back, letting his tongue circle your pussy. 

You moaned, grabbing Steve’s attention. Your wet tit left his mouth as he stared down at Eddie—he was entranced with his mouth covered in your juices. He didn’t think before reaching for Eddie to kiss him, exploring his tongue in the metalhead’s mouth. You smiled at the two of them, letting them make out before the aching returned to your pussy. 

You squeezed your legs before the two boys stared up at you with wide eyes. They went back to devouring your pussy together, as your hips bucked and your thighs threatened to close. Eddie’s hand clasped around your thigh, “Be a good girl and keep them open.”

But it was too much, Eddie rolled his eyes as he smacked your ass. You moaned before you looked down at him with a grin. “Can I just fuck Steve already?”

“Such an impatient girl…”

Eddie instructed Steve to lie down as his cock nudged between your folds. You moaned, just the head of his tip already filling you up. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, “You okay, princess?”

“He’s just so big…”

Eddie chuckled as he spat into his hand, slicking up Steve’s cock, “Bounce on him for me, princess, while I fuck his ass.”

Steve’s eyes widened at Eddie’s words before he threw his head back. The combination of your tight walls squeezing him and Eddie’s fingers breaching his ass—it was ecstasy. Steve’s ass wasn’t as tight as Eddie had expected—he figured the slut fingered his ass at night. 

Eddie stroked his cock before he pushed into Steve’s ass, causing Steve to cry out in pleasure. 

You bounced up and down on his cock as Eddie pounded into Steve. Steve thrusts became faster as he chased the high from his ass-fucking, pounding deeper into you. Your moans grew louder as Eddie held onto your waist, “Steve’s cock feels good, princess?”

You cried as you kissed Eddie’s lips, his wandering hands squeezing over your tits. “So fucking good…”

You spread your thighs wider into Steve’s lap as your ass bounced up and down. All you could hear was moans and squelching—it was completely erotic. Your back arched as you moaned, chasing the ever-climbing high. 

Steve was getting closer. He needed you impossibly close to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. He’d never felt so open before, but the need to be good for Eddie outweighed his nerves. Eddie thrusted faster, Steve’s ass squeezing around his lengthy cock, reaching deep inside the boy. You were all in states of bliss; it was just a matter of time before one of you toppled over. Obviously, it was Steve first. His eyes squeezed shut as his moans became increasingly whiny and broken.

He thrusted deeper and deeper before it was too much, and he cried, “Oh fuck…please, please.”

Eddie leaned forward as he pistoned harder into Steve, watching as the boy came. He cried as he spurted into your awaiting pussy. You watched as it overflowed, leaking onto his stomach.

You kept riding him, before Eddie’s hand circled your clit. You cried out as your thighs shook just as Eddie spurted into Steve’s slutty hole. You felt the pleasure build up inside you as you clamped down on Steve’s cock, leading the sensitive boy to cry out with more moans of pleasure. 

You slide off Steve’s cock, cum pooling out of your pussy and all over Steve’s stomach. Eddie pulled his cock out of Steve’s ass, watching his cum slowly drip. It was all so messy, yet none of you seemed bothered. Eddie smirked, kneeling as he slurped the cum off of Steve’s stomach. Ever the gentleman, Eddie stood up to grab a towel. He cleaned Steve up while you went to the bathroom—Steve missed when people doted on him. He wanted to express his gratitude, reaching for Eddie’s hand, “I don’t know how to—thank you.”

Eddie smiled, kissing the sweet boy, “You’re stuck with us now.” 

Eddie happily dressed the boy in a pair of boxers. Yet, he couldn’t help but tease, but kissed all down Steve’s neck. Steve just moaned as he sank into the bed. You came bouncing back, clad in Eddie’s t-shirt that fell to your knees, “Miss me?”

Steve nodded, reaching for you. “So much.”

You immediately curled next to Steve, head against his chest. 

Eddie chuckled as he kissed your forehead, “She gets so sleepy after…”

Steve yawned with a sleepy smile. “That makes two of us.”

Eddie slipped on his pyjama pants before sliding in next to you; the three of you snuggled together. Eddie watched the two of you blissfully sleeping with a smile—he couldn’t fathom the love he felt for the two of you.

He didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you, but Steve was special like that. Eddie held the two of you, as his heart fluttered—he felt loved and full. He couldn’t wait until the morning, when he’d attempt to cook for the two of you and express his love—hopefully the fire alarm wouldn’t go off again. But all that could wait until tomorrow. He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep, his dreams nowhere as precious as tonight. 

[gabsandbucky]

A Purgatory Called Grief

pairing: Jason Todd x Witch!Reader

wc: 2.2k

Summary: Your world ended the day Jason died. Now you wander the world like a lost soul, hoping you'd be taken away, vanished into the ether. Grief was your purgatory, and Jason was your angel. Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, profound grief, stab wound (injuries).

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

AN: Please enjoy this grief-struck witch as I study for finals :(

Jason was gone, of course, you knew that. You were reminded of it every day: when the phone rang, or when the window would rattle. You still hopped up in anticipation as if he’d reappear in your life—your hope was false. It had been ages, yet you still couldn’t stop grieving him. And you tried, god help us, you tried. Spending your nights scouring every ancient book under candlelight, hoping something would fix this. Maybe you could reanimate him, or sacrifice someone—but it was all pointless. The only person who had the power to change his fate was Death herself. Your spiritual meditations were no longer spent honing your skills; you tuned into the spirits, sifting through every shadowy figure, trying to find the remnant of your love. But he was gone, lost to the shadows. It made you sick thinking about it, that his spirit may never rest. But what made you sicker was thinking about life without him. 

Batman’s wards tried to help you out of this perpetual funk, but it never worked. Dick told you to move on, but honestly, what did Nightwing know about love? You’d go on his planned dates—mostly to appease him—just to end up alone in your bed, sobbing into your pillows. It wasn’t like you’d completely isolated yourself from the manor; you visit frequently. Family dinner was important to Bruce, and you couldn’t resist Alfred’s cooking. But even when the night dragged on into an unreasonable hour, you’d always leave. Visiting the manor was one thing; staying over was strictly your time with Jason. Nighttime had always been your favourite, perhaps for some mystical reasons, but mostly because of Jason. You’d hold his hand, waiting until Bruce’s steps trailed away before creeping out to the library to read. On the clear nights, he’d whisk you up to the rooftop, wrapping a blanket around the two of you as you watched the stars. 

You had been a shell of yourself ever since his death, and nothing was convincing you that it would ever get better. When you found moments to yourself in the manor, you’d always find yourself in front of his door, hands gently pressing against the wood.  The first month after his death, you rarely left his room. It was the only comfort you had. It all smelt like him, felt like him. Eventually, it was too much to bear. You hadn’t been able to step inside for years; it was the last thing of Jason’s untouched.

Bruce hadn’t been thrilled when you told him you were moving out of the manor; he’d promised Constantine he’d keep an eye on you—after all, it was partly John’s fault that you were sent to live out in Gotham. But it was to keep you safe, and Bruce was more than capable of doing so. You didn’t blame him for Jason’s death, but a part of you no longer trusted the Dark Knight. If you stuck around any longer, the rage inside of you would boil over, and you knew Bruce didn’t deserve that. 

It was too much to be in the manor, Bruce understood. He didn’t want you to fall into a darker pit. So, he did what any wealthy guardian would: he leased out your apartment. It was fine, nothing fancy—you would’ve felt guilty if he went above and beyond. He made sure it was safe, and on the safer side of Gotham (if there really was such a place). Having your own space kept you busy; you tried to keep your plants alive and cook like the chefs on TV. You were happy to welcome visitors. Dick came over anytime he needed to rant about girls, before he fell asleep on your couch. Tim showed up every few weeks specifically to crash in your guest room. Damian was your most frequent visitor—he needed somewhere to be himself, and you were more than happy to let it be here. 

Life had been better; it wasn’t entirely bleak. Yet, on those tough days when the air grew colder and the sky pitch black, your heart wouldn’t beat as fast. You’d feel a tight pain in your chest as you curled in on yourself. You could feel his loss, and it tore you apart. You barely got out of bed on these days, instead comforted by staring at the grainy photo of you and Jason. People told you life would go on, but you didn’t believe it; there was no life without Jason.

Tonight had been one of those dark days. You curled up in your sheets, heart feeling numb. You could hear the soft buzzing from your phone, notifications from Bruce and the others. You turned it off; you didn’t want their help. All you wanted was gone forever. You knew they were just worried, but what sort of life could you live at this point? You were off your game; magic used to be an extension of yourself, and combat had been instilled by Batman. But you never practiced your talents, nor trained your skills: you were completely off your game. 

You were no longer alert to your surroundings, completely defenceless to anything. When your ears picked up on the shuffling of your window, it was only as someone fell to the ground. You shakily jumped out of bed, peering into your kitchen. Your breath was shaky, so were your fingers as you tried to quell any of your magic back into you. You stepped inside, hand reaching for your kitchen knife as you stared at the man on your carpet, the one with the Red Hood. You gulped softly as you looked him over. He barely glanced at you as he pushed himself up, only to stumble to the couch. Your nose twitched at the smell of iron, shit. 

You scurried over to the man, clad in your dorky plaid pyjamas, as you helped him to the couch. You ran your hands along his chest, palms discovering the dampness of his bloody chest.

“Holy shit…” You mumbled, eyes widening at the wound. It was deep, gushing—no wonder he stumbled into the first apartment he saw. 

Red Hood just grumbled, spreading out his thighs. You could tell he was holding the pain in, what with the ways his gloved hands clenched around the arm of your sofa. 

You pushed up your glasses, nervously rambling, “What even happened? Why did you come here?”

Red Hood reached up a shaky hand as he pulled off his helmet. The metal mussed up his hair a bit, but that’s not what you focused on. Your eyes were locked onto his; the ever-so familiar eyes of your lost love. Your body froze as you softly whispered, “Jason?”

True to his character, he tried to smirk, only to reach for his wound with a groan. 

You stood up abruptly, running out of the room. You needed a moment, one singular moment, to process what the hell was going on. Was this a dream? Had your grief-stricken brain conjured up some reasonable excuse as to why Jason was missing? 

Your head was growing dizzy. “It’s fine, Y/N…it’s just your dead boyfriend.” 

You reached for your first-aid kit, softly tucked under the sink, before returning to him. 

You couldn’t look into his eyes. You tugged off his brown jacket, hands smoothing against the leather. You just mumbled, whether to yourself or him, you were unsure, “You’re gonna be okay…” 

When your hands reached the fabric of his T-shirt, you finally locked eyes with him. “I need to…Can I take this off?”

He gently huffed, “It’s fine.”

You smiled at the sound of his voice before your eyes focused on the pallor in his cheeks. Your movements grew quicker, the fabric sliding off, and yes, he was more muscular than you remembered. Your hands couldn’t help but brush across the scars marring his body. Your breath hitched across the deep ones, “What happened to you, Jay?”

He didn’t speak; he couldn’t. You didn’t blame him; he was in bad shape. The stab wound on his stomach continued to gush out blood—you had to start stitching him up now. You knew it would hurt, and you felt guilty at causing him more pain. 

“I’m sorry…” You whispered as you threaded the stitch into his abdomen. You watched as his breath hitched, stomach muscles squeezing tight. His jaw was clenched shut, his hand completely relying on the arm of your couch. 

He was in bad shape, really bad. You’d never seen him like this, not like Robin, not until that night. You couldn’t get the image out of your head, his bludgeoned skull, the bloody crowbar. You didn’t even notice when your hands began to shake, and you began to cry. 

Jason felt guilty for coming back like this. He’d thought about it many times before, how he could return to your life. But it always ended up the same: believing he was no longer good for you. He’d done horrible things, become a horrible person; he wouldn’t ever want you to see his shame, to see how broken he was. 

He heard you the second you began to sniffle, and his reflexes were imminent. Jason reached for your hand, gently brushing against your knuckles, “Hey…what’s going on?”

You let your eyes drift up to his, lips clutching between your teeth, “You died, how are you even here?”

His eyes softened—it was a reasonable question; his death-defying stunt was one for the history books. But could he really reveal to you what he had done?

“I don’t even know how to…” He took a shaky breath, trying to find his words. His grip on your hand loosened, causing your heart to drop.

“Jason?” 

His body went slack against the couch, his breathing slowing. 

“Jason, Jason? Don’t you dare…god, Jason please!” You were losing him, again. 

You shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up, but as the seconds passed by, the worry grew in your chest. Was this the last time you’d ever see him? Dead, bleeding out, helpless? Was this his fate, to return to you only for you to let him die?

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears streamed down your face. You knew what to do, you just weren’t sure you even knew how to. Your shaky hands pressed against the wound, mind deep in concentration. You let out a sharp exhale, as sweat beading down your face. You felt a soft flicker, but it wasn’t enough—your magic was buried. You choked out another sob—you had to try, for his sake. 

“You’re not leaving me again, Jason…please.”

You let your mind think about Jason, and it all becomes easy. Your hands emitted a soft glow as they worked along the wound, softly stitching it up. You kept your eyes shut until you heard his tight gasp. Jason’s eyes sparked open, and he stared at your face. He had always been in awe of your magic, how the soft glow warmed your face—this was what heaven had felt like. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N.” Jason whispered. 

When you heard his words, your eyes peeled open. You stared at him; you never forgot how beautiful he was. You knew he’d grow up handsome, you just never thought you’d get to see it. 

You let out a soft cry, hands curling into his black hair as you found the striking white strand. His hands wrapped around you, feeling the way your body slumped against him. 

“You need to rest.”

“So do you,” You mumbled, head resting against his chest. 

He smirked letting out a soft chuckle, “You’re always right.”

You blinked up at him, “Could you come to bed with me…please?”

He couldn’t resist you. “How could I say no?”

The sun streamed through the window, meeting the face of Jason Todd. There were things you miss about being alive, the sun on your face being one of them; holding you in his arms being the other. He smiled at you, the way you curled tightly around his bicep, ear pressed against his chest, as if you were worried his heart would stop.

He didn’t want to wake you; he was comfortable like this, and he felt at ease. It was something he hadn’t felt in a while. He was different, sure—he was taller, face sharper, voice deeper. But you were still the same. He noticed your affinity still for classical novels, his worn-out copy of Pride and Prejudice sitting on your nightstand. He knew your connection with nature, so he wasn’t surprised when he saw your herbs sitting on your windowsill. You were the same, except for your smile. He’d only seen it a few times last night; mostly, he was struck by your fearful grimace. But seeing you now, completely relaxed by his side, warmed his heart. 

You stirred a few minutes later, eyes scrunching at the impending sunlight. Your head was still hazy, but you remembered one thing: Jason. You squeezed his bicep, reassuring yourself he was real. He curled his arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him, “I promise I’m here, my juniper.”

Your heart warmed at his sweet words, yet your eyes still widned, “You’re really here?”

He placed a kiss on your forehead, “Yes, and I’m never leaving you again.”

And by Hecate as your witness, you’d make sure he kept that promise. 

[gabsandbucky]

just read „Pinch Me, I Think I'm Dreaming“ & it was sooooo hot!

would you write reader x eddie x steve where she’s having a kind of fwb relationship with both of them but they don’t know about the other? like on some days she’s fucking steve on others she’s fucking eddie & they don’t know they’re not the only one.

and one day she’s going at it with eddie in his trailer & they totally forgot that steve & robin are about to come over for a movie. they get caught mid-fuck & robin leaves, while steve stays & it ends in a threesome?🤭

So...that's hot. Hope you enjoy! :)

Three's Have More Fun

Pairing: Henderson!Reader x Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

wc. 4.0k

Summary: You honestly thought it wouldn’t get to this point, but here you were, fucking your two best friends. If only you could skip town and change your name... Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, friends-with-benefits, virginity loss, Steve and Eddie being completely in love with the reader (get in line, kings), fingering, pussy eating, unprotected sex, anal sex, threesome obv

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

In all honesty, you weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. You just wanted some experience, that’s it. You couldn’t fool yourself; it was true, you were a complete virgin. It wasn’t your fault; you just weren’t cool in high school. And bless your dear friend Eddie—a freak in high school —who accepted your hesitant request. 

Maybe you should’ve told him with a little more warning. 

“You want to lose your virginity to me?” His face was beet red; this must be a dream, but then again, you weren’t in a princess gown, nor he in knight attire (he was a dork). 

“Is that a problem?”

He shook his head rather eagerly, “Of course not…I mean…are you sure?”

“I trust you…”

He nodded, nervously twisting his chunky rings, “Okay, just a one-time thing…” 

He paused before, “But…you really mean it?” 

You rolled your eyes as you tugged him by his wild mane. “Ow, ow, watch the hair…”

“Please Eddie…”

He looked at your sweet eyes, radiating pure lust. He gulped, watching as your coloured iris darkened to black. Oh shit, he didn’t need to be hesitant, not with you like this. 

 “Okay…shit, okay. Just lie back.” He mumbled, his hands brushing against your chest. 

You smiled as you leaned back, your body lying against his flannel sheets. You felt safe, you felt happy; you knew you’d made the right choice. 

He gently kissed down your neck, hands skimming across your torso. You pouted, letting out a disgruntled sound. Eddie just chuckled, kissing your lips. You moaned into the kiss as his hands came to stroke your cheek. He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, but he worried it would kill the mood. 

He kissed you harder. You felt flushed as he let his tongue slip into your mouth. 

He pulled back, much to your dismay. His hands began trailing down your thighs, gently letting the soft fabric of your pyjama pants ripple under his touch. 

You knew you had to be patient because if not, Eddie was guaranteed to tease you. 

But you couldn’t help, your eyelashes fluttered as you reached for his wrist, “Eddie…I need you.”

His eyes went wide; holy shit, he’d be remembering this moment for his midnight jerk-off. 

“Course, baby…lemme take this off…” He tugged down your pyjama pants as he smiled at your pretty pink panties. “Oh, did you dress this cute for me?”

You huffed, your thighs opening wider. Eddie smiled gently, rubbing his thumb along the growing wet patch, “Pretty little pussy.”

Tugging your panties down, he gently blew over your folds. He watched you tense up, reaching for his hands, “Eddie…stop teasing.”

“Can’t help…you’re too pretty.” He licked a big stripe from your hole before suckling on your clit. You squeezed your eyes closed as your moans grew louder. “Eddie…oh.”

“Yeah, does it feel good?”

You babbled, hands reaching into his curls, “So good…so good.”

He started to push his fingers into your heat, your pussy clamping around them, “Oh, she’s so tight…I’ll help open her right up.”

He gently pushed further into you while sucking harder on your clit. A bubbling feeling was brewing inside you as your thighs began to shake. 

“Eddie…I’m gonna…”

He had the widest grin on his face as he dove deeper into your pussy, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“Holy fuck…Eddie, I think…I’m gonna come.”

He watched the moment your body spasmed, milking out your aftershocks as he slurped up your juices. Your face was marred with pure ecstasy. You came down slowly, your breath heavy as you stared at him. “Eddie?”

He was distracted by licking his fingers, “Yeah?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Anything you say, princess.”

He hadn’t done anything else to tease you; he just gave you a passionate night. He told himself it was to help you learn; he didn’t want to take advantage of you. But by god, you wanted him to take advantage. You wanted him to tug your hair, kiss you sweetly, and help you sing your pretty noises. But it was evident that it wasn’t going to happen—one-time thing and all. So you’d keep all that pent-up sexual frustration that had been unleashed thanks to that one night with Eddie. 

It was only a matter of time for that sexual frustration to boil over. It was madness; your filthy thoughts of Eddie bending you over, fucking you well into the dawn. It was too much; you couldn’t focus. You supposed that’s how Steve got involved. 

Steve, the sweet boy whom your brother clung to, had his own history with you. In the heat of all the demodogs and mind flayers, you ended up making out with him. It wasn’t a one-night thing; it was several nights, and mornings; perhaps some afternoons. But none of it led anywhere, possibly because you couldn’t keep him interested. You chalked it up to his long-time feelings for Nancy and moved on. 

Sure, Steve was a gentleman, but he had an annoying habit: preferring the window to the front door. This wouldn’t be a problem if not for the sexual exploration of getting yourself off. He knocked on your window like the smooth guy he was, shocked to find your one hand circling your clit and your other squeezing your tit underneath your tank. He could see the wetness that leaked from your hole, the way your pussy clenched. It was surreal and incredibly hot. 

He gasped, head slamming against the window as you shot up, quickly grabbing a blanket. 

“Steve, what the hell?”

He stared at you through the window, agape. It wasn’t until you opened it up that he spoke, “I…shit, was coming to give you that movie Dustin wanted…” His eyes were wide, his breath heavy. You and Steve stared at each other for a moment. Slowly, your embarrassment began to fade, and a raw desire bubbled through. 

“Steve…” You began sultry.

“Uh-huh?”

You gently fluttered your eyelashes, reaching out for his hand, “Do you want to fuck me?”

His cheeks went bright red, his eyes darted around, “What? Of course not? That would be…so very inappropriate of me. You’re my friend, and…”

His speech trailed off as you let the blanket fall to the floor, revealing your naked body. You turned around, gently lying down on the bed, your eyes teasing him closer.

“Shit.” He mumbled. 

You pouted at him, impatient. “Steve, come on….” There was a newfound confidence in you; you suppose your one night with Eddie had opened your sexual appetite. 

You didn’t have to tell him twice; he leapt through your window and dove straight into your soaking folds. “Fuck…” You mumbled as his tongue circled your hole. 

It was true, you lost your virginity with Eddie, then let Steve crawl through your window the next night. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong, despite the guilt weighing on your heart. You were having trouble sleeping; your head was full of filth and moans and—

“Y/N! It’s for you.” Dustin yelled from the other room. 

You huffed, throwing off your blankets and heading towards the kitchen as you reached the phone, “Hello?”

“Princess, hey…”

Your eyes widened; just the boy you’d been dreaming of, “Eddie, what do I owe this pleasure?”

He nervously chuckled, hands twisting around the phone cord, “I know I said it was a one-time thing, but…god, can’t stop thinking about you.”

You bite your lip, “Really?”

“Can you come over tonight?”

One time, you should’ve known it would’ve been more; Eddie had an insatiable appetite. God help you, you’d awaken the beast.  

“Oh fuck…” You cried as Eddie pounded into you again. His cock was slender, digging deep inside of you, brushing your cervix. If the first time was good, this was heaven. He shed some of his hesitancy, giving you passion inside.

 He had been at it non-stop, wanting to make you feel good, and he was, fuck yeah, he was. 

“Feel good, princess?” He asked, his hands caressing your hair as he slid in and out. 

You could only muster out a nod. Eddie chuckled, watching as your eyes squeezed, just in time with his thick thrust. 

“You take me so good, baby.”

You moaned, reaching for his hand. He smiled, grabbing your hand tightly, gently sliding one of his rings along your slender finger. 

“Looks so pretty on you…”

You reached for his cheek, kissing him deeply, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He couldn’t help but whimper, “Oh shit…baby, I need to…I’m gonna.”

You stared into his eyes, squeezing your pussy tight, “I wanna see you come, Eddie.”

He gulped, his cock swelling inside you as his moans turned to desperate whines, “Oh fuck…pussy’s squeezing me so good…I’m coming, fuck.”

Eddie’s tally now came to two, and you hadn’t even thought about Steve. It had been a spur-of-the-moment; he caught you, and you were feeling horny. But with Eddie, you were friends with extreme benefits: you’d call him when your fingers weren’t enough and he’d stuff you full until you cried tears of pleasure. You figured it was just two friends helping each other, nothing Steve needed to know about. 

You walked into Family Video, the bell chiming your arrival. 

Robin smiled as she saw you, rushing over with her frantic words, “Y/N, perfect timing. We need you to settle an argument. 

Steve groaned, his fists squeezed around the tapes, “Nuh uh, you’re not involving Y/N.”

You approached the counter, smiling sweetly, “Come on…I wanna help.”

Robin smiled at Steve, “See, dingus. Which movie is better, the superior Ghostbusters or the lame Footloose?”

Steve shook his head, “Don’t call it lame…”

You frowned softly, “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen either.”

Robin tapped her chin before chuckling, “My poor sheltered friend. I suggest movie night, Saturday…Eddie can bring the weed.”

Steve sighed, “I mean…if there’s weed.”

Robin wheeled the rental cart to the first aisle with a victorious walk. She went back to her work, beginning to restock the selection. Steve stayed at the front, his eyes fixed on you. 

“Hey sweetheart…”

You smiled, shifting on your heels, “Hi Steve.”

You suddenly felt self-conscious about your outfit: wearing a big jean jacket you’d found in Eddie’s closet. But friends lent friends clothes all the time; your guilt was inclined to disagree. 

He gently leaned in, tucking back your hair, “I had fun with you last week…”

Your eyes widened as you smiled; you forgot how handsome he was. You just wanted to pepper his pretty face with kisses. 

“I did too.”

“My shift ends at 8, could I pick you up after?”

It seems in this moment you should’ve remembered your situation with Eddie; you know, the fact you were getting fucked every night. But that conveniently skipped your mind: it was just friends helping friends. You found yourself caving into his words. “I’d like that.”

He gently kissed your cheek, “See you then, beautiful.”

Steve picked you up at fifteen past eight, knocking on your front door, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You couldn’t help but stammer out a thanks, completely awe-struck by his kindness. 

“I just wanted something as beautiful as you…”

He drove you to the drive-in, his hand holding yours the entire time. You were thankful for the privacy of his car, and the soft blanket he’d brought for you (he remembered how cold you got). You’d never been on a date before, and here Steve was being your first. You tried to remember all the old movie cliches, pressing yourself closer during the movie, hands brushed against each other as you reached for the popcorn. 

All that movie magic seemed to help when your eyes locked; Steve looked at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

The movie was nearly done when Steve trailed his hand down to your thigh. 

Your breath hitched. Steve stopped, “Is this okay?”

You looked up at his caring eyes and nodded, “Please…keep going.”

He smirked, trailing his hand underneath your dress. He moved until he hit the lacy fabric of your panties, gasping when he felt your wet spot, “Shit, sweetheart…you’re soaked.”

You bite your lip as you open your thighs wider, suddenly feeling bold. 

“What are you gonna do about it?”

Slipping the fabric to the side, his fingers darted through your folds. If Eddie’s fingers were skilled, Steve’s were big. You winced at the sloppy sounds of your wet pussy.

Steve shook his head, “You’re beautiful…you and your pussy.”

You had never felt this open before, with how easy it was for Steve to shove his fingers into your weeping hole. You craved it, you ached for it. 

He groaned, bending his fingers and hitching them right up to your g-spot. You moaned, covering your mouth with your fist. “Don’t worry, baby…let it happen.”

The waves built up, teetering to crash, “Please…please.”

He kissed your lips as your orgasm weened, pleasure erupting through your stomach, “Steve, fuck…”

He fucked his fingers into you during your aftershocks, and kissed you gently when he was done. You looked up at him, fucked-out and flushed, “I need you to fuck me.”

His eyes widened as he looked up at the film, watching the credits roll. “I know a place.”

Your date turned into night, as you bounced on Steve’s cock in front of Lover’s Lake. You felt scandalous, with the fogged windows and Steve’s dirty words.

“You look so good bouncing on my cock…prettiest pussy ever.”

When Steve dropped you off, you kissed him goodnight. It wasn’t until you stared at Eddie’s ring on your bedside table that you began to feel wrong. It was all too much; it was only a matter of time before you lost both friendships. And for what, sex? 

You had to remind yourself: both arrangements were casual, but Steve took you on a date while you spent every night at Eddie’s. You felt a tear drip from your eyes as you curled yourself to sleep; what had you done? It was only a matter of time before you slipped up. 

You hadn’t been getting much sleep recently, and it wasn’t because of your dirty dreams. You felt the guilt weighing more, and imagined just how easily it would be for you to run away, start a new life. Yet, in the midst of changing your identity—you had been contemplating a haircut—Eddie called. 

It was Saturday, the day of your Ghostbusters movie night, but you were too wound up to remember. When Eddie called, you pulled on a cute skirt, which you should’ve known would be your undoing. 

“Hey, princess.” He smiled as you sat beside him on the couch. 

“Hi Eds…” You said, your eyes darting elsewhere. 

His eyes softened, reaching for your hand, “Is everything alright?”

You looked up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes before you began to cry, “No…it’s not.”

He held you tight, wiping your tears, “It’s okay, baby…talk to me.”

You shake your head, pressing your head into his chest.

“It can’t be that bad…”

You looked up at him, with your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m a horrible person…I’ve been sleeping with Steve, too.”

You expected him to get mad, to storm out, but instead he smirked, “Oh?”

You couldn’t look at him, your hands pressing against your face, “I’m so sorry…I feel awful—”

“Princess…I’m not upset.”

You looked up from your hands, “You’re not?”

Eddie shook his head, “We’re just having fun, right?”

You nodded, “I guess…”

He smirked as his hand curled against your skirt, “Can’t blame a pretty girl for having fun.”

You underestimated how horny a man Eddie was.

He had you pressed against the couch, skirt on, revealing your pretty pussy as he slid into you. 

“Oh, princess…your pussy’s so tight.”

You moaned, eyes squeezed as you wrapped your legs around his waist, “Faster.”

He chuckled, darting down to steal a kiss before he rocked faster, “Anything for you.”

Your whines grew louder, and you were captured in the pleasure. 

That’s how neither of you noticed when Robin and Steve walked into the living room.

“Who’s ready for some ghost busting?” Robin began to say before she yelped, covering her eyes. Eddie stopped, his head lifting to see your friends there. 

You whined, “Why’d you stop…” before your eyes dragged to Steve, oh no.

Robin turned her back to you guys, “Um…let’s just reschedule, I need to go wash my eyes with bleach.” She quickly left the trailer, but Steve stood still. 

You couldn’t look at Steve, your heart was racing. 

Eddie could see your distress, as well as an opportunity forming, “Can’t look away, can you, Harrington?”

Your eyes widened, and so did Steve’s.

“What?” Steve mumbled, trying to hide his boner. 

Eddie smirked, gently pulling out of your pussy, cock standing tall. “I think…you’re intrigued.”

He walked towards Steve, as he slid his hand down to Steve’s jeans. “Oh…so that’s why they call you big boy.”

Steve didn’t know where to look: Eddie’s tatted chest, his messy curls, his throbbing cock.

“I don’t…” Steve began to say before Eddie squeezed his cock, “Holy god.”

You were in shock, but mostly arousal. You squeezed your thighs as you sat up on the couch, watching the foreplay—this was better than anything your mind could dream. 

Eddie chuckled, his hand grabbing Steve’s hand, placing it on his heavy cock, “You wanna touch my cock?”

Steve gulped, his eyes fixed on it. He’d seen…those sorts of videos; the sultry music as the men felt each other up. It was a few nights, when his desire was more submissive. He’d reach under his bed, pulling out the tapes as he’d jerk off to two men. 

Steve whimpered softly, and his hand began to pump Eddie’s cock. It felt so wrong, but at the same time, so right. Had he been too obvious with his glances at Eddie? It’s not like he knew what he was doing; he was a natural with women, sure, but men? It made him nervous. With Eddie, it was different. Stroking Eddie’s cock, made him feel incredible. 

Eddie moaned as he eyed you from the couch, “I think we found a fun solution…”

It was straight out of cheesy X-rated porn, the way your eyes linger on the two men. 

You lay back on Eddie’s bed, trying to ignore the wetness that dripped onto his sheets. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t mind; he loved smelling you on his sheets. 

Eddie sat on the bed, his cock still strong as Steve kneeled in front of him. His eyes were full of fear. 

“Just go slow, Steve.” You said. 

Eddie ran his hands through Steve’s messy hair, “You want to make a mess on my cock?”

Steve whined as his hips bucked up, still pressing incredibly tight against his jeans, “Please.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Take your clothes off…and don’t touch yourself.”

Steve obeyed as Eddie looked to you, “Sit on my face.”

You gasped as a bead of wetness dripped down your thigh. Eddie licked it up as he smiled.

You gently hovered over Eddie’s face, just as Steve gently sucked Eddie’s cock.

Steve was a natural, hollowing out his cheeks as his mouth sucked up and down on Eddie’s cock. He wondered how the girls did it to him; his cock was always so thick. Eddie’s was still a challenge, the long cock brushing against the roof of Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie was convinced that this was the best blowjob of his life, although he hadn’t had much to compare it to. He moaned straight into your pussy, your hands squeezing the bedpost. 

“Oh fuck…” You cried. 

It was all so erotic, the wet sounds and moans: you were feeling so hot. 

You heard the soft gag from Steve, which didn’t deter his movements, but Eddie tugged him off, caressing his cheek. 

“You okay, Steve?”

Steve stared up at him blissfully, “Uh-huh.”

You giggled as you sat on Eddie’s face. “Maybe we should start simple?”

Eddie nodded, kissing your lips before standing behind Steve, “My thoughts exactly, princess…Steve?”

Steve blinked up, his cock spurting pre-cum like a fountain, “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna fuck you…while you fuck her.”

Steve gulped, arching his back, “Okay…”

Eddie reached into Steve’s hair, baring his neck as Eddie sucked a hickey into it. Steve moaned through the whole interaction. Eddie pulled off, pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips, “Get ready, big boy…”

You lie back, spreading your thighs. Your fingers tweaked your nipples as you sighed, “Steve…I’m waiting…”

Steve nodded, pumping his cock before sliding into you. You both moaned at the way his head just breached your hole; the way your pussy sucked him in. Steve moaned, the pleasure unforgettable and then–

“Holy fuck…” He yelped, his cock sunk deeper into you. 

Eddie had begun to finger Steve’s asshole, lube slathered all over his digits, “Just getting you ready.”

It seemed Steve could open up easily, although you figured that was just his deep desire to be fucked. Eddie’s cock now followed after, thrusting deep into Steve’s ass.

“Oh my god, princess…he’s tighter than you.”

You moaned, eyes finding Steve’s as you kissed his cheek, “You okay, Steve?”

He whined, “Feels so good…”

Eddie chuckled, running his hands down Steve’s back, “Oh, he’s fucked-out already…”

It wasn’t long before Eddie thrusted deeper into Steve, while Steve thrusted deeper into you. It was erotic; if you thought fucking one of them felt good, you couldn’t wait until they both fucked you.

Steve was in ecstasy, his face flushed, hair astray. He looked like a picture of debauchery, the way he opened himself up. He wondered why he’d never fucked Eddie before, but alas, it was happening now. 

It was all too much for the three of you; everyone began teetering on the edge, thrusts got sloppier. Steve whimpered, squeezing the bedsheets with one hand and circling your clit with the other. You shook your head, the pleasure reaching an incredible level, “Oh fuck…it’s too much.”

Eddie fucked harder into Steve, “Princess…let us see you cum…please?”

You stared at Eddie’s lustful face and nodded. You tried to relax, let your pussy open wider. By doing so, Steve’s thrusts grew deeper, a small bulge settling on your stomach. That was it. 

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…I’m oh…”

The waves crash into you, thighs shaking as wetness crawls out of you. Steve cried, wrapping his arms around you as his cock began to swell, “Shit, I’m gonna…”

Steve’s thick cum spurted inside you, overflowing onto the mattress as your pussy pushed it out. Following soon after was Eddie, shooting his cum deep into Steve’s asshole, pulling out as he watched the cream drip from the pretty hole. 

You were all left breathless, lying on the bed. No one said a word; nothing needed to be said. 

Your eyes were fluttering closed as you felt a warm hand at your waist, “Too much…”

Eddie shook his head, “I’m just carrying you to the bathroom…come on.”

You let Eddie carry your spent body to the bathroom as you sat on the toilet. Eddie’s eyes went to Steve’s fucked-out face. He smiled lazily, “I’ve never come that hard.”

Eddie chuckled, “You’ve never been fucked in the ass before…you’ll get used to it.”

Eddie carried you back to the bed, pulling you into his pyjamas and settling you onto the bed. Steve sat there unmoving, unsure of where to go. Eddie shook his head, pressing a kiss on Steve’s lips, “Here…”  Eddie handed him some clean boxers. 

“You want me to stay?”

Eddie and you smiled before looking back at Steve, “Princess here loves to cuddle after sex…figured you knew that.”

Steve nodded, “I knew that…but it’s okay if I?”

You pouted, tugging Steve into the sheets, “Please don’t leave.”

Eddie chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and Steve, “Princess decreed it…you have to stay now.”

Steve smiled, head buried into Eddie’s chest, “Thank you.”

Eddie watched as the two of you dozed off, gently stroking your hair, “My pleasure.”

[ipseitydelrey]

slaves to any semblance of touch ☆ s. reid

ship inexperienced!s1!spencer reid x inexperienced!afab!reader

content smut (mdni 18+), weed written by a writer who has never touched drugs, non-sober sex (they both consent y’all, weed sex is a thing), p in v penetration, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity, creampie, reader has an iud

synopsis you and spencer have always been best friends since you first joined the bau a little after he did. because of your similar backgrounds, you both decide on a deal: you would experience what you missed out on in teenagehood. this all comes to ahead when you acquire a bag of weed.

word count 5.7k (it was supposed to be 2k)

a/n i’m back (explanation below) also shoutout to my stoner ex for his help in research for this, you should probably get a therapist tho

When you joined the BAU nearly a year ago, you never thought you’d be such good friends with one Dr. Spencer Reid.

You already knew of him before joining the unit, since you had to read a couple of his papers for your degree, but you didn’t really know what he was like as a person until the first week of your new job. Sure, you can relate to his academic prowess, though his achievements are surely more impressive than yours, as well as the fact that you were both around the same age, but other than that…not much. But over time, you found more little things about the two of you that just click: you’re both regarded as nerds, into pop culture, and most of all, you two have missed a lot out on life. You were both too focused on your studies as kids and teenagers that you didn’t have any opportunities to do normal teenage things — or things that are just widely regarded as normal, even if they’re concerning.

So you and Spencer made a deal: you would both try to live out your teenage selves’ dreams. And that’s how you ended up on the doorstep of his apartment unit with a ziplock bag of cannabis and a rolled up joint in your pocket.

You knocked once, twice on his door with a clammy fist, feeling weirdly nervous when you hear his faint voice from the other side respond with “coming!”, almost as if you don’t want him to answer. You obviously know that THC is sort of legal for prescription purposes in D.C., but it’s still taboo to you since, well, you’re both government agents; you still had to pee in a cup just to even be considered for a job in the FBI. But weed is one of the several things that neither of you had done as teenagers, so—

Your thoughts get cut short when the key lock clicks and the door gently opens for you to see Spencer in a relaxed state that you had never seen outside of work; a loose-fitting t-shirt with a faded logo of an old band and plaid pajama pants that hang loosely around his hips. As his friend, you never really found him attractive in that way, but you can’t really deny that he is attractive.

You stand there awkwardly in your oversized hoodie and shorts, holding the incriminating bag of weed behind your back as casually as you can. You try to smile at the sight of him, but your lips end up looking like a polite straight line.

Spencer looks you up and down; damn you for being friends with someone who studies human behaviour for a living. “…You okay?”

Immediately, you nod a little, keeping the same polite smile. “Yeah, I just got a…thing for us to try. Can I come in?”

Since it’s quite obvious, he already knew about that from how only one of your hands is visible and hwo there’s a slight outline of something small and thin in your hoodie pocket. Nevertheless, he wordlessly steps to the side to let you in.

In an attempt to continue to hide the weed behind your back as a surprise, you shuffle awkwardly past the door way, making soul-piercing eye contact that makes both of you feel weird. You make sure that as you enter and toe off your shoes that the front of your body is always facing him, even if it looks suspicious to Spencer.

He leans to the side and tilts his head slightly up, trying to get a peek at what you’re hiding, which only just makes you maneuver your body even more. “C’mon, what do you have behind your back?”

You purse your lips and decide to show him the bag. His eyes go wide at the sight and he quickly slams the door shut and locks it. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to find the words, like a fish out of water. “Why do you have marijuana!?” he finally whisper-yells.

“Look, this is something that I always wanted to do as a kid!” you adopt the same volume as him. “Besides, it’s legal! It’s not bad, it’s just one time, and I wanna try it with you.”

“That act is from 1906 and you are completely forgetting about Initiative 59; it’s not legal and if we get caught with that, our careers are over,” he warns. You should probably listen to him, but then again you’re too stubborn.

“Sure, but consider if we don’t get caught,” you say. “Also who would watch us in your apartment if the FBI didn’t put, like, secret cameras all over your flat?”

“It’s too risky.”

“But I got this from Garcia.” You shake the bag like you’re trying to tempt him.

“You–” He blinks, like he can’t believe what you just said. “Look, as much as I trust her in the field, I do not trust her with my overall health.”

“C’monnn…it’s only one time, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Exasperated, Spencer screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his scrunched up nose with his fingers while sighing. Then after some time, he draws his hand back to his side and looks back up at you. “Okay, so…how do you want to ingest it? Garcia gave me a recipe for brownies, and they are the most popular form of weed edibles—”

You cut him off when you pull out a pre-rolled joint from your hoodie pocket, holding it up for him to see mid-explanation. He sets his eyes on it and stutters. “…You want to smoke it? Y’know, even though there’s no tobacco, there’s still a risk of lung cancer involved—”

“It’s just once and then never again, I swear!” You reason, pinching the joint between your fingertips and holding it out to him to prove your point.

Finally, he bites the inside of his cheek and sighs in defeat. “I got matches in the kitchen…”

You squeal in delight at his agreement and crash into his chest for a tight and excited embrace. “Thank you, thank you!” you praise before you let go of him and run towards the small kitchen in search of the matches. It doesn’t take you long at all to find the small box in one of the cabinets; you practically know Spencer’s apartment like the back of your hand from the amount of time you spent here just this year alone.

At the beginning of your friendship, you two would have normally spent time in his living room on the couch. But as time passed, he grew more accustomed to the idea of letting you be in his bedroom and even on his bed for a change. So when you see that he moved from the entryway, you automatically start to make your way to his bedroom, finding him already situated on his bed in a slightly tense manner, with his legs crossed, his back slouched and his fidgety hands in his lap. Upon hearing your footsteps padding in the hallway, he glances up just as you enter the doorway into his bedroom, the box of matches in one hand and the joint and bag of weed in the other.

“See now I thought you had a lighter,” you joke to bring up the tense mood. “Why do you have matches like you’re a Victorian gentleman?”

Spencer awkwardly laughs — though it sounds forced — and he shrugs. “I mean, I don’t think I’m that old-fashioned, am I?”

“You’re a technophobe, what do you mean you’re ‘not old-fashioned?’” You tease back as you sit down, your legs crossed. You set the bag of weed down beside you, gripping the joint between your fingers while you fumble with the matches.

“Let me,” Spencer says hurriedly while taking the matches from you, clearly worried that you’ll set his bed on fire. He’s calm and focused as he strikes the match and carefully lights the joint you’re holding before dropping the burning match in a used cup on his bedside table.

Now it’s awkward. You’re both just sitting there, staring at the joint like it’s going to hurt you both. Since Spencer is clearly not going to try it first, you steel yourself and bring it up to your lips, taking a short drag and holding it in. You have never smoked before so as you let out the smoke, you cough a little, even if you tried to supress it. While you cough into your elbow, you hand the joint to him and he hesitantly takes it.

He studies it in a scientific lens, holding it like it’s an undiscovered object before he eventually puts it to his lips and inhales gently. Normally, he would never put his mouth where someone else put theirs but he finds that he doesn’t really mind your germs.

Even Spencer coughs as he exhales and just like you, his high comes quick. It’s not exactly visible, but his posture, like yours, is more relaxed and he slumps against his pillows after handing the joint back to you.

Slower than usual, you move to sit next to him and you take another drag, this time longer. You still cough, but you’re getting used to the feeling of it. Probably not a good thing, but oh well.

After Spencer takes one more hit of the joint, he puts it out on the side of the same cup on the bedside table. Two hits is definitely more than enough for the both of you. It feels otherworldly.

“Y’know,” Spencer starts with his usual nerdy voice, though there’s a slight gravelly tone to it; it makes your heart race a little, “cannabis has many side effects, both psychologically and physiologically, though it depends on what strain you’re using. Typically, cannabis — or THC — tends to decrease anxiety and stress, but it can have the opposite effect if you have too much. Normally it will also cause increased hunger, appreciation for the arts, and a heightened libido…”

At that point, your brain blanks out whatever else he’s saying as you focus on one thing: a heightened libido. You didn’t really know all that much about the herb before you decided to try it, but now it’s making you think about what it might to do you, or rather, what it might cause you to do. The mention of the libido starts to make you think thoughts, ones that you hadn’t really thought of before. Thoughts about him, Spencer, and what he might be like in bed. But you know that he’s never done anything like that before, he confessed it to you only a couple weeks ago. He had barely even kissed someone before — well, he did so passionately with a couple other girls, specifically one Lila Archer — but he had never kissed someone.

Your thoughts are thankfully cut off by your stomach rumbling. Normally it makes you embarrassed, but you’re glad for the distraction. “I think I’m hungry,” you quickly say, like nothing’s wrong.

“That’s the hunger I mentioned earlier, known colloquially as ‘the munchies,’” Spencer says; you have no idea where his knowledge of weed culture comes from, but it provides something to focus on to forget about your lewd thoughts.

“I’ll raid the pantry,” you hastily exclaim before you hop up from the bed and move to the kitchen, not seeing how he’s squinting his eyes at you with suspicion.

You take longer than usual just staring at rows of food, all nearly stacked and organized in Spencer-fashion in your friend’s pantry, trying to get rid of the carnal thoughts in your head of maybe being the one to take his virginity. All while he’s the one taking yours. That thought just makes you feel warm— oh no, the heightened libido is really hitting now. You don’t know how long you can keep this up, especially with how loose the weed makes you feel.

You take an already opened pack of cookies and eat two to satisfy your hunger, or ‘the munchies,’ before going back to Spencer’s room. You walk in to see Spencer full-on lying down, practically zoned out from the looks of it and muttering something to himself. To get his attention, as well as play off how weird you’ve been acting lately, you throw the pack of cookies at his chest, which he fumbles in his hands. “Hey!” he yells, playfully annoyed but he can’t really find it himself to feel that way with the cannabis in his system.

“Yes?” you tease as you jump onto the bed, draping your legs over his. You nearly don’t notice how he blushes at the touch and how he shifts a bit. You reach over to grab another cookie, practically inhaling it with how hungry you’ve suddenly become.

Then, suddenly, whether on purpose or not, his hand moves to rest on your bare thigh, his fingertips grazing your inner skin. You’re not sure if he’s aware of the touch but what you are aware of is how it makes you feel…which is aroused. Very aroused. Why does he have to be this magnetic?!

Spencer notices how you look like a blushing virgin — because you are one — but he doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t want to seem rude or impersonal. Even then, despite his heightened awareness around what’s going on with you, he is not all that aware of himself. It takes around twenty seconds of awkward yet intimate silence for him to notice his hand’s almost inappropriate position on your inner thigh.

You notice how he hesitates before removing it and this makes you think and imagine. Is he…is he actually interested in you like that? You’re still not sure so in order to test this theory, you gently take his hand and put it on your knee; it’s not as intimate as before, but it’s a suggestion. And he seems to understand, since his hand slowly inches its way up your thigh, almost cautiously to make sure you’re okay with this. You can’t help but nod gently as your back slouches and your legs end up parting for him.

Even with the cannabis in his system, it’s clear that Spencer has little idea of what he should do. “Sorry…I only read what to do in textbooks, but I don’t have any…practical experience.”

You simply shrug; you wouldn’t care even without the influence of the weed. “Just…do what you think is right and I’ll guide you if needed.”

With your permission (and a little hesitation), his fingers brush at the junction where your thighs meet and he cups you. As he rubs and squeezes lightly, you realize one thing that he forgot to mention: weed also makes you more sensitive to touch. It almost feels like he’s touching you directly and not through your shorts, riding low on your hips. The sight is enticing to Spencer and he purses his lips, like he’s trying to hold back.

You encourage him and shock yourself by tugging your shorts down to your mid-thighs, revealing your frankly embarrassing underwear. You aren’t aware of the underwear you’re wearing and neither is Spencer, blinded by your respective libidos. Once again, he cups you over your panties before tugging them down along with your shorts, finding himself face to face with your pussy, already wet.

He swallows nervously, pulling back for a moment to drink the glass of water on his bedside table. “Xerostomia,” he explains but that only makes you furrow your brows in confusion. “It’s cotton mouth.”

“Oh…” Well at least it wasn’t because he was weirded out, which was your original thought when he turned away. You merely lie there, tugging your hoodie up a bit more until your navel is exposed, giving him more room in case things get messy. You’d imagine it won’t, since Spencer is such a germaphobe.

Spencer, now prepared as best as he can be, moves closer to you, lying on his belly between your legs. For a minute — the longest minute of your life — he just stares at your folds, in awe of their slickness and the way they part. It’s like he’s trying his best to memorize the most private part of you. And then he dives in, almost naturally save for the slight hesitation at the start about where to put his tongue. He kisses you first, kissing your labia, your hole and finally your clit before he captures the bud between his lips. It’s almost like he practiced for this. The thought makes you blush almost as much as the view you have right now does.

He practiced for this, which he would never admit to you, but all that practice goes away as he decides to just let the drug take over, going based on feel instead. He would never do that as a scientist but tonight he makes an exception for you. He traces around your bud with the nervous tip of his tongue, continuously looking up at you to gauge your response.

Your chest heaves, your heart racing faster than usual to make up for the blood rushing south. Between your legs there’s a warmth that is either caused by the pooling of blood in your clit or by Spencer’s soft breaths. Maybe it’s both. Your fists open and close at your sides, unsure of what to do while you lie there and Spencer does all the work. It feels right when you lift your hand and rest it on the back of his head, threading your fingers in his curly hazel hair. You accidentally tug a little when his teeth bump against your clit roughly, pulling out a “sorry” from him.

But eventually, the two of you settle into a rhythm: you pull when he does something you don’t quite like and you moan when he succeeds. It feels too easy, on account of your heightened sense to touch, but you’re not complaining. How can you when all that comes from your throat are whines and gasps? Your legs naturally part, with your slick and his spit along your inner thighs and his chin.

He’s not exactly a “natural” at this, per se. His technique is all over the place, his tongue pokes and prods at some odd angles and his sucking can be too soft or too hard. But with some time, he gets the hang of it. He focuses mostly on your clit, rapidly flicking his tongue over the bud before suckling your lips. At one point, the tip of his tongue dives in your sobbing hole and that makes your hips buck up ever so slightly.

Your nub throbs with need and Spencer gives into it. He’s seen ‘educational’ videos on the female orgasm but he has yet to see it in action, especially caused by him. You tug on his hair and moan at the same time, which confuses Spencer a bit, causing him to pull back slightly. “Is this okay?”

“Definitely,” you pant, “definitely, keep going, I’m so close…”

Without another word, Spencer eagerly dives into your wetness, lapping at your clit like a dog. You no longer tug his hair to tell him something’s wrong; instead, you tug his hair to guide him, crying “right there!” when his tongue brushes against something you quite like. Your juices are dripping and Spencer is drinking it eagerly, something that you think he would never do if he was completely sober. You aren’t even sure if you yourself would be confident enough to do any of this if you were completely sober either.

But your train of thought is cut short when the coil building in your lower half suddenly snaps, sending a wave of pleasure flowing through every limb and vein in your body. Spencer pulls his hands away, letting you feel your high orgasm to its fullest extent and without his restraint. His tongue, however, keeps moving, gently working you through your climax with such reverence that you can just feel it.

He mumbles something about women’s orgasms lasting longer than men’s and that seems to ring true when you finally calm after twenty seconds (according to him) of pure bliss. When he comes back up from his rightful place between your thighs, his chin is dripping with your juices, his eyes wide and trained on you.

“Was it good? Did I do okay?” Spencer asks, almost like he’s worried. “I know you can’t really compare it but…I hope I was to your liking.”

You pant softly as you prop yourself up onto your elbows to really look at him. “Spence…you were amazing.”

Spencer moves to lie beside you, never taking his eyes off you in the meantime. “Really?” A small smile tugs at his lips, which in turn makes you smile.

“Really.” You shift closer to him until your noses touch. A part of you feels this overwhelming pull to him, but he pulls away instead, grabbing wet wipes from the bedside table.

He notices your staring and his back hunches as a result. “S-sorry, it’s just,” he says as he wipes your juice from his chin, “feels weird.”

You purse your lips and awkwardly nod, not knowing what else to do. What does one even do after cunnilingus? Do you reciprocate orally or do you just go right ahead with the main part? Does he even want to keep going, what with his germaphobia and all?

“I’m sorry,” he says out of nowhere.

You sit up and cock your head. “Why?”

“Well…” Spencer fidgets with his fingers, tapping his index and middle back and forth on his knee, “I haven’t done this before. I feel like I’m doing something wrong, I just don’t know what.”

You can’t really disagree, even though you wish you could. At least in your opinion he’s not doing anything wrong but of course it’s hard to say that since you don’t have experience either. But you can also attribute this paranoia to the cannabis. “So…what now?”

“I don’t have condoms.” Well you weren’t wondering that anyway but now…

“That’s okay,” you say. “I, um…have an IUD.”

“I know.”

You quirk your eyebrow. “You know?”

“Well,” he stutters, “I noticed how your periods tended to be more painful and I figured it was either endometriosis or a copper IUD. And you don’t have any of the other symptoms for endometriosis, so…”

You blink wordlessly. “How did you…” Your thoughts go wild without your permission so you shake your head to ignore them. “You know what? Whatever, I should’ve known you’d know.”

Spencer shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Spence, seriously, it’s fine. I…appreciate it?” you say, unsure if that’s the word you should be using. It’s the best word you can think of at the moment with your clouded judgment.

“Right, ah…” He glances towards the antique clock hung on the wall and you do too. It’s been only ten minutes since you both took your first hit, which comes as a shock to you, less so to Spencer. You could’ve sworn it had been at least an hour. You probably should have known that. “So, you want to…keep going?”

You scoff and playfully roll your eyes. Of course he would be that type of lover. “Obviously, Spence.”

“Right, sure, sorry–”

“Stop saying sorry.”

“Sor–” For once, he stops himself. You can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nothing, aching to lubricate his dry throat. “Okay,” he whispers softly while he moves close to you, your thighs practically touching. It’s a bit unfair that you’re pantsless yet he is still fully clothed.

Making sure that he’s watching, your hand drifts over to his thigh and up, tracing along the soft fabric until your fingertips just barely graze the telltale bulge in his sweatpants. You swear from the bottom of your heart that you felt him twitch just the slightest bit. You get further proof of your theory when Spencer chokes on nothing at your enhanced touch.

When your fingers dip into his waistband, his hips lift up, like he’s chasing your addictive touch. You take the opportunity to tug down, the waistband now at his mid-thighs and revealing his boxers, patterned with atom structures and DNA spirals. The sight makes you smile giddily and Spencer blushes, but he doesn’t seem like he’s embarrassed about his dorky choice of underwear; they’re going to be removed soon anyway.

While you work on tugging his pants down before even thinking about his boxers, Spencer wants to be helpful. With a not-so-subtle need, he pulls his shirt over his head. Normally, he would likely curl in on himself, having always been quite self-conscious of his lanky pale body, but for once he’s thankful for the distraction of a controlled substance affecting his regular thinking patterns.

By the time everything else comes off, the only thing left are his boxers, which barely does anything to hide his arousal, currently sticking straight up in the air and even staining the fabric with leakage. If you were able to, your mouth would be drooling at the sight. Nevertheless, you hook your fingers into the boxers and start to pull them down, revealing things one at a time: first his hair, light at the navel, growing darker and more curly as it reaches the base of his penis, which is the second thing you see. The waistband catches on the head and when you pull it down, his cock in all its nerdy glory bounces up, slapping against his belly. His tip is an angry red matching your chipped nail polish, and it glistens with precum in the soft light of the cozy room; maybe it can quench your thirst.

You pull his underwear down further, finishing up your discovery when you glance at his full balls, nestled in his forest of pubes that look just like his hair up north, only curlier. Once his boxers are fully removed, you’re just two naked agents, sweating and high and wanting. There’s nothing in between your warm bodies to prevent either of you from giving into long unrealized desires. It doesn’t feel platonic anymore, but it isn’t romantic either.

Of course Spencer can’t tell what you’re thinking, but the way he looks at you — with his brows furrowed, eyes half-lidded, and his shoulders tight — almost convinces you that he has the same thought process, like telepathy. Your hand once rested on his thigh but now he moves it away, guiding it to his chest instead before placing his own hand on your plump hip. You pet his bare skin, practically hairless with his low testosterone, but that doesn’t matter to you at all.

You can’t even believe the next words out of your mouth. “I’m ready. Are you?”

Even moreso, you can't believe it when he nods.

You take initiative and lie down, assuming that he would be fine with missionary; it is the most popular position after all. You part your legs naturally and the move convinces Spencer to situate himself between them. In doing so, his length, hot and firm, rests against your clit, pulsing with desire. He places his hands on either side of your head, looking down at you with such an intensity that you feel like you’re an UnSub he’s interrogating.

“We could wait until I get proper contraception,” Spencer says; it nearly takes away from the mood you’ve both worked so hard to build up. “Pregnancy with an IUD is rare — only one in one hundred — but it’s still possible–”

“Spence.” Your voice is stern and it immediately shuts him up.

“Right, got it.” He pushes his length against you, coating it with your slick and slipping easily between your soft lips. He does this for a while, a long and painful while. You were about to tell him to just get on with it since the high is going to wear off until he presses his tip against your entrance.

He glances up one last time, gazing upon your determined and needy face, before pushing in, agonizingly slowly. His leaking head enters first, an appetizer before the main course; it gets you ready for more. Inch by inch, he fills you up. You thought the stretch would be painful but it ends up being quite pleasant, like the first stretch after you wake up.

He’s not that big, so he bottoms out quicker than anticipated. For a moment, he just stays there, fully enveloped in your warmth. His sweat beads from his eyebrow, dropping down to your breast. Spencer’s eyes flicker up, meeting yours like how your bodies meet. You don’t know if it’s the weed talking but for the first time, you feel something more than a connection.

Finally, he pulls back. Then he pushes forward. Back, forward, rinse and repeat. There’s less and less of a stretch as the antique clock ticks, having now had the time to get used to his dick. Like him, it’s thin but it more than makes up for that with its above average length, hitting all those spots inside you that you could never quite reach with your fingers, while also dutifully avoiding your cervix.

Your arms — which don’t feel like yours — come up to wrap around his torso, pulling him closer like you want to join him in every way. His length scrapes no nicely against your spot and it makes your cunt flutter; he moans so sweetly in your ear, just high enough for it to make you moan too.

Your shared wetness drips down your crack, staining the bedsheets underneath. Spencer would be annoyed later but for now, the feeling of your hot pussy is all he wants to be buried in.

His pace is slow, his movements awkward. This is your first time after all and the drugs don’t do anything to lessen that. His movements are too sharp at first, his rhythm off by just a beat but soon enough he moves in 4/4 time.

“So soft…” he whimpers in your ear; you want to hear it again after this whole situation, “so w-wet, nghh…”

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades a bit and that gives him motivation to pick up the pace. His balls now audibly slap against your slick perineum, which feels good, oddly enough. While one hand stays beside your head, his other slips down against your mons, his thumb easily finding your clit.

“18.4% of women can’t orgasm from penetration alone; 36.6% require clitoral stimulation too,” he says as he rubs your little bud in fast circles. “I w-wonder what category you fall under.”

“Those numbers don’t add up to one hundred,” you say before a small moan.

“The additional thirty-six percent find that their orgasms are stronger with added stimulation.”

“I think that’s me.” You laugh before a sudden change in pressure steals your breath. Spencer’s eyes widen and he keeps the pressure going, all while picking up the pace on both fronts.

You feel your ability to form coherent sentences start to slip away and you decide to let yourself be overtaken by sheer weed-fueled pleasure. The fact that you waited so long for this, even with Spencer, is a crime. Never in your life would you have expected sex to be this fantastic or for Spencer to be this talented in bed. You’re sure he wasn’t expecting it either.

Another thing he wasn’t expecting was for how quick his orgasm would be. He was sure he would last longer; he masturbates at least once per week, according to proper medical guidelines, but the feeling of you squeezing around him bare…it’s too much. With one last thrust he moans long as he spills into you.

You feel it: hot, sticky, filling. Doing it bare is the best feeling, you’re sure of it. But even then, you’re not satisfied.

“Spence, please,” you plead softly, “‘m so close, so so close…”

With a tired whimper, Spencer musters up what little strength he has as he puts his all into pleasing you. His thrusts aren’t what they were before: they’re less rhythmic, more uncoordinated and sloppy, but somehow that’s hotter to you. The way he’s still focused entirely on your pleasure even when he’s done. His thumb is still drawing desperate circles on your button.

“Please, please, please, oh g-god…” Spencer mutters against your neck, his breath hot and heavy. You whine, your cunt fluttering more and more until you cry out, squeezing his cock with everything you have as you convulse with the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a long while. Spencer whines pathetically about his dick being strangled by your pussy, but he wouldn’t lie if he said that it wasn’t amazing.

He collapses against you, chest to chest, your genitals still connected even though his cum is spilling out of you and pooling underneath your ass. You both catch your breath before he makes the weak attempt to pull out.

Spencer rolls onto his back next to you. “You…you should pee; to prevent a UTI.”

“Uh…uh huh…” you hum, your body tingling with the aftermath. You don’t move yet, spending one extra moment to gather your bearings before hoisting yourself upright and planting your feet on the cold wood floor. You wobble and you can see Spencer sit up. “I’m fine,” you insist, slowly making your way over to the bathroom before closing the door.

You spend a few minutes there, emptying your bladder per his request and also cleaning up the mess you both created between your legs. You realize that perhaps the most tedious yet rewarding part of this whole ordeal is the aftermath.

Once you exit the bathroom, Spencer had already slipped on a new pair of boxers, no lesser in their dorkiness, with the cookies you had gotten an hour earlier in his lap on the bed.

You join him, making no move to cover yourself; thankfully, he doesn’t mind the nudity. He hands over a cookie. “I’ve read that a snack can really help with aftercare for sex…did you know chocolate is an aphrodisiac?”

You laugh before biting into the gooey goodness of the chocolate chip cookies. It cures your munchies.

sooo it’s been a while; i apologize a lot for my almost two year long accidental hiatus. things just got really hectic in my life. i was planning on coming back in february but i got deterred when i found out someone has plagiarized one of my tumblr fics for ai purposes (made a post abt it; please read it to help with the situation). thank you so much for reading and i hope to be more active on here (or at least be more open about my hiatuses)

taglist @queermaxwooo @theoraekenslover @pleasantwitchgarden @kissesforapence @hbwrelic join the taglist

[buckyfmd-deactivated20260404]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ KINK-OR-TREAT ; splash zone !

kink-or-treater ; munch!bucky x female!reader summary ; there was a hint of desperation in your eyes. not primal, no. it was there— of course there was, the thrill of getting fucked against the kitchen counter and getting caught by poor ol' bob who just wanted to get his routinely midnight donut, or maybe even yelena doing god knows what. what ever it was, the thrill was exhilarating— yet there was a daunting presence of need, like your heart yearned for him. it did. warnings ; KINK-OR-TREATER ONE — SMUTTTTTTTRTTTTTRR MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!! 18+ OH MY GOSH, unprotected piv, creampie, copious amounts of yearning, how that happened i do not know, oral sex (f receiving), they fuck in a kitchen alright, bob and yelena make an appearance again!!! yay!!!!!! okay not proofread. drea’s notes ; if you saw me post this the first time, no you didnt. how’s it already october????????? and also, i really don’t know how it got all sappy and yearny this was supposed to be pure smut. anyways. dedicated to my lovely baby @umbreoni i love you so much :3 if this flops im gonna cry. or die. or both. i’m not joking.

"buck— please— holy shit…"

you sobbed, your voice trembling as it cracked at your pleas. your head was tipped back, a spot in between your parietal and upper occipital pounding from when you'd dramatically smacked it against the wall— all of bucky's fault of course, "please let me cum, bucky… fuck please, i'll do anything."

you babbled, whines seeping in through the thick tension in the air, your fingers sowing into bucky's hair and pulling tight as his tongue danced dangerously around your folds, "anythin'?"

he purred, vibrations only making your orgasm creep in faster—sneakier—, voice muffled as his mouth worked overtime, tongue flicking ragged licks over your clit, bottom lip embedded behind your top row of pearly whites, "i pinky swear, please—please, please— let me cum…"

your whine sent shivers down bucky's spine, nearly letting him fold at your desperate request, but he already weighed the pros and the cons inside that fucked up brain of his. 

con: you'll be grumpy at him for the rest of the week— day if he'd beg well enough, or you know, if he'd fuck you well enough that night with a hushed apology laced with murmured desperation a a sly smirk spread across his mouth.

pro: you know what… the con already sounded like a pro.

and that's why james buchanan barnes just didn't stop. in fact, you're certain he sped up. you know it, you can feel it. the way his tongue lapped. the way his tongue laid flat against your folds before he gave you a harsh swipe up to your clit that made you squirm, your legs quivering with every flick of the pink muscle. 

your fingers grip tighter, the pressure on his scalp making bucky gush, the vibranium hand lifting off the floor and slithering its way to the 'gravitational pull' between your thighs, "she's just pullin' me in baby."

a skilled finger forced itself in, a tender gasp escaping the vicinity of your plump lips as he leans down, shoving his tongue down your inviting cunt, "can't let you cum just yet, princess."

a whimper rises from your throat, your oesophagus raw and tender from last night's screams and wails of bucky fucking you into an oblivion— pussy getting wetter at the memory, "please, buck… let me, i'll be such a good girl."

bucky freezes, removing himself from your weeping cunt, the emptiness of it all making you hiss. this is quickly noticed by bucky, his absence replaced by a cool blow of air to your bud, a screamed sob of his name tumbling off your tongue, "can't have you cumming—" he dives back in, tongue burying deep inside your core, nose nuzzling on your touched clit, "before i'm inside this tight pussy, baby girl.

a whine erupts from deep within your chest, your impatience only growing stronger with every thrust of his tongue, "need you inside me— fuck— please…"

"impatient little thing," he groans, lips bracketing around the bundle of nerves before sucking in, aggressive as ever. an assertive hum left bucky's nose, the warm breath spreading itself out on the surface area of the mound of your pubic bone, "but since you're asking so nicely…"

you didn't spend time wasting your breath, your hands yanking his face off your cunt, mouth glistening with your arousal under the soft gleam of the kitchen light, his pupils diluted and fogged with lust. a pout appears on his lips, unsatisfied with what you had done. 

"fuck me," you huffed, gaining some sort of composure; some sort of self respect, "now, barnes."

the line between who was in control blurred, especially for bucky whose eyes were in a haze, blinded by need and want as he stared at you, not a single appropriate thought behind his ocean eyes. obediently, he nodded and cleared his throat as he leaned a hand back, pushing himself off his knees, his pupils never leaving yours. 

"the things you—hah— do to me," he gasps softly as your hips grinding into the fabric of his dark blue jeans— the ones that slung low on his hips, and the ones that show the imprint of his indubitably huge cock.

a gulp accumulates in your throat when you felt his clothed shaft against your pussy, your clit crying with need as you rub it on the built-up tension of his hardened length. 

your face was filled with shame, visible by the crimson-tinted cheeks that crawled up from the back of your neck to your ears, lips puffy from your teeth gnawing at them to keep your whimpers and yelps down. you weren't ashamed though, your lips jumping on to his before he could even breathe. 

heated, messy, ferocious. teeth clacked against each other, but neither of you cared. he took the initiative, tongue slipping into your mouth, surpassing the gates of your lips, tongues sliding desperately against each other, the roughness only fueling the fiery rage of want and need.

"james…" you gasped, longing for air, though it really did feel like bucky was your only source of oxygen, for a flicker of a second.

he looked up at you with those stupid blue eyes— god, did you hate him. you hate how gorgeous he is; you hate how freakishly good he looks even under your supposed submission; you hated how good he could rip an orgasm out of you; and most of all, you hated how much didn't hate him at all.

"huh?" he huffed, eyes still locked onto yours, that sheepish look on his face making your eyebrows knit together in fury. 

hands reached for the hem of his collar, fists wrapped tightly against the soft fabric of his shirt, a harsh yank forward, pulling him in. there was no thought put in this action, it was if your muscles contracted and squirmed on their own, "please." 

you swallowed, a intake of the air filling your lungs, "please, for the love of god james, please just fuck me. now."

there was a hint of desperation in your eyes. not primal, no. it was there— of course there was, the thrill of getting fucked against the kitchen counter and getting caught by poor ol' bob who just wanted to get his routinely midnight donut, or maybe even yelena doing god knows what. what ever it was, the thrill was exhilarating— yet there was a daunting presence of need, like your heart yearned for him. it did.

you could feel it. bucky could see it— god, of course he could. he could see right through you. he knew the stolen glances from across the room, he knew how your eyes lingered on him even after he'd finish speaking. you'd never once tried to hide it from him, you'd only ever hidden it from yourself protecting yourself from the shackles of love.

he's kissed you before he could even respond. words wouldn't have been enough to explain how he'd feel. instead, his fingers traced gently across your back, situating when they arrived at your hips, squeezing as if to anchor himself. his tongue danced with yours, the contentedness of your hearts seeping into the sweetness of your saliva. 

"please buck…" you pleaded, your voice merely a whisper. his head cocked down, his mouth attached to your jaw peppering light kisses onto the edge, "i've been so patient…"

that seemed to get a kick out of him, his breath stuttering as he inhaled the delectable aromas of your skin, "you have, haven't you?" bucky smiled, his skin stretching as his teeth crawled out with the grin, stubble lightly dragging across the sensitive of your neck.

a finger looped along his belt buckle, the metal clinking and the leather whipping as your digits moved swiftly, removing a particle of clothing with fumbled precision.

his cock sprang free, vibranium fingers dipping down the band of his boxers, a firm grip craning the base of his throbbing shaft as he pulled it out. the elastic band of his underwear draped low, just beneath the humps of his balls, cupping them as he fists his vibranium around his length, pumping beads of silky precum on his glistened shaft.

his right hand— flesh-clad— laid low on your hip, tracing gentle circles, easing you to open up. you did. 

you always did. 

"in me," you cupped his face, taking his eyes— his focus— off his cock and onto your own optics, the hues of blues looking sincere, "i need you so badly, james."

his head dipped onto the valley of your shoulder, forehead kissing your delicate skin. a primal groan rose from his chest, fleeing from his lips as he felt your arousal spread, the reddened tip swiping along your slit.

"i need you," you gasped, a hand clutched onto his arm, crescent shaped marks filling the blank canvas of his brawny bicep, your grip only tightening as he stretched out the walls of your filthy heat. 

he muttered something incoherent under his breath, the warmth falling off his tongue and onto the delicate skin of your breast. maybe he swore. maybe he cursed out your name. you really couldn't care, the burn of the stretch making you unable to think— the pleasure too intoxicating for your own good. 

he sighed into the thrust, making him feel at home, your own holler belting out of your mouth, lips agape and cracking at the edges.

"you," bucky breathed in, as if he was bracing himself for the worst, "already have me. always have."

he gawked forward, lips pressing a gentle peck onto your collarbone as if it would do something to ease the fiery sensation of his girth.

your eyes started to burn, your jaw clenching as he bottomed out, "fuck."

"don't say that when we're…." you retaliated, his sweet words only turning into malevolent mush as it goes into one ear and out of the other. 

a roll of his hips made you squeeze your eyes shut, the loss of one sense only deepening the one in between your thighs. 

"when we're what?" he teased, pulling himself back up to your entrance, and huffing greatly as he bucked his hips towards yours, balls smacking against the mound of your ass as he pushes forward with one swift thrust. 

a guttural moan left your throat as a hand leapt to your mouth, muffling the sound of your mewls as bucky continued to pound into your needy pussy, your hole luring him in like a siren luring a sailor to his demise. 

and maybe you were. bucky swore that one day, you'd be the death of him. his hips proved that theory, slamming into you, every flick of his hips gnawing away at his dignity. 

a hand— unsure if it was yours or bucky, but alas, a hand— reaches down to your heat, a finger slipping into your folds, spreading your wetness around. it reached for your whining clit, rough circles dragging you closer and closer to your climax. 

"baby— if you keep on doing that—," he breathed, vigorous hips grinding into your cunt as you clenched with every deep thrust, "i swear to god, 'mgonna cum."

he growled, low and primal, pulling out of you with agonizing intent. pulling your tank top down, he takes the soft flesh of your tit and massaged it in between his fingers, nipple hardening instantly to the coolness of his vibranium. 

"turn around," he groaned, hands lapping at your breasts, "sweet girl."

"baby, please…" you begged, quiet but full of request, fulfilling buckys's command as the cool countertop grazed the just above your belly button. 

"that's it," he guides a hand to your lower back, a forceful yet soft hand bending you over the countertop, hissing at the temperature of the marble surface on your sensitive nipples, "my good girl."

your heart raced at the name, fluttering at the name. you shook your head, enough for bucky not to notice, but he wasn't blind. he just didn't bring it up, your cunt too inviting for him to care. 

yet, your mind kept replaying it. the use of 'my' sounded too deliberate, his words echoing in your mind verbatim. 

"stop thinking already."

you bellowed loudly, as he shoved himself into your tightness, forcing your mind elsewhere. it was sudden. forceful.

you wept out, drool accumulating on the counter as your jaw dropped in a silent moan. 

"please," you begged, once and for all, "please let me cum."

your voice laced with regret as your orgasm ripped through you, legs loosening like jelly as it's shattered through your veins— the surge of it all dizzying as it rockets through your lower body. 

your orgasm glistened hot on bucky's lower stomach, combining at the floor as it trailed off your thighs.

he stayed nuzzled inside you, the familiar sense of heat already pooling deep inside your stomach as he chased his own release. he bent down towards your figure, your back now stuck onto his shirt, clinging onto it with your sweat, his hips stuttering as he does so. 

"i'm begging you, sweet girl," his whimper catching you by surprise, "please, let me do it inside. need to fill you up, let everyone in this watch tower know you're mine."

that's when it broke, the realisation of it all hitting you like a brick wall. it was this time that bucky didn't notice, his cock too busy ramming in and out of you like a piston.

"james—" gasping for air like you were drowning, "please… not like this…"

"fu—uck…" he stammered, catching you in his arms as your legs ultimately gave out. hot, silky ropes of his release burst inside you like a bubble, his ejaculation decorating the plush of your walls. 

he murmured chants of your name as your walls clenched, fluttering around his cock, a ring of creamy white appearing on his shaft as he fucks his release back into you. 

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he babbled, though his actions contradicted his apologies, hips still moving at a pace where it seemed impossible for them to stop.

"bu—bucky," you gasped faintly, your brain fuzzy and lightheaded, a hand smacking on his thigh gently just to warn him.

he stilled, stopping at a halt though he was still buried deep inside of you, his cock softening gradually. 

he pulled out, a shaky whimper freeing from your reddened lips as he does so. a firm hand slithering down to the dip of your waist, forcing you to turn around. 

"i'm sorry," he whispered, cock dwindling against the soft of your thigh, his hands cupping your face before planting a soft kiss on glistened lips. 

"i love you."

you gulped, and suddenly all your senses felt like they've been heightened by one hundred. suddenly, the water dribbling from the tap boomed in your ear; and suddenly, the scrape of sweat that dragged across bucky's forehead became all to coherent.

"you," his cheek lifted, his eyes squinting in confusion as his brows knitted, "love me?"

his finger gestured between you and him, his own adam's apple bobbing as he gulps waiting for your reiteration. 

"i love you." your fingers found their way to his, intertwining them, holding them as if they were delicate and fragile. 

and that, he could very well. his arms found their way to yours, your body's moulding together like a puzzle piece. like you belonged there. you were home. and you were his. 

he didnt quite say it back, either— the three words seeming oh, too foreign for bucky to say out loud. he didn't need to, though. you felt it. you always did. like how he always felt yours. 

"you know," yelena belted just loud enough to be clear, "midnight donuts do hit different. don't they, bob?"

just then, you had walked in, legs nearly giving out every few steps. bob gulps at the question, seeming to on-the-fence about answering the question. 

his lips open, then close, then open again. "uhm— yeah— they do…"

"what's this about that?" you had asked, plopping your weight on the stool opposite bob and yelena on the island. 

"midnight— uh— donuts, yeah. donuts." bob responds, yelena's elbow digging into his chest as he speaks. 

"uhm, cool?"

yelena smacks her hands cold against the island countertop, coffee rippling in the mug due to the multitude of her slap, "last night. we heard you. and on the day i could finally join bob with a midnight donut? you and bucky are greedy." 

she sighs, as you look up at your phone slowly, heat of embarrassment weeping on your face. 

"that was the type of greed they talked about in the bible."

drea’s notes ; this is the calm before the storm. watch out.

💌 @sheriff-bodecker @umbreoni @opheliabbarnes @54nboo @bckyslover @barnesandashes @metal-armed-muse @demiebarnes @miraclediviner @letterstodevil @devililithh @fucky-barnes82 @mrgrungusthefrog @colettebarnes @herejustforbuckybarnes @kqtholins @amoremarveloustime @fluorjscent @sebastians-love @wint3rbarnes @nonyabusinesswhatmynameis @justalittle47 @yes-ilovetowrite @heldbybarnes @sweetxserenity @purplebuck @nandanandada @evalynkillgrave @buckysslut @nightshadecomplex

[gabsandbucky]

god...so hot

[gabsandbucky]

Mind-Numbing, Friend-Having Enjoyment

Pairing: Tim Drake x ADHD Atlantean!Reader x Conner Kent

wc. 5.0k

Summary: You’re always in your head; the only person who could get you out of it is Tim, until he saw Conner cozying up to you. He knew why it made him so angry, but why did it make him feel so…turned on? Or: The ADHD representation we all need.

Warnings: (Oh boy), 18+, smut, fluff, basically pure filth, fem!reader, oral (m/f) receiving, unprotected sex, anal sex, dom!conner, sub!tim, lowkey switch!reader

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

It’s not easy being a teenage superhero: you’ve got homework, love issues, and a chronic inability to focus. You could blame that last one on your ADHD. You tried not to let it impact your place within the Teen Titans, but it was getting harder to hide. You came out of meetings depleted, just to be expected to start training bright and early in the morning. It was utterly exhausting. Some days, it felt like you spent more time napping in your room than being a part of the team. 

You did what you had always done: kept your problems to yourself. You just lived on the edges of the team, staying in the shadows, minding your own business. God, you hated it—the constant buzzing of your brain around the other Titans. Sure, they could be jittery, mainly Bart, the stupid speedster. It seemed that you two were the only ones who had an issue with listening. No matter how well you thought you hid it, it was obvious to everyone how frantic you were: either your mind was all over the place or barely even present. But Tim noticed, curse his hyper-aware brain. 

You knew after the first few minutes that you were in for a long meeting. It was shameful how you picked your nails, shredding them down to bloody. Tim noticed how antsy you were; your knee bobbing up and down as your gaze was distant. God, you really needed better habits. You softly winced, Tim’s head turning to yours. His eyes widen on the droplet of blood beading out from your cuticles, a concerned frown on his face. 

He leaned over to your ear and reached out his hand, “You can hold my hand.”

Your eyes meet his, processing his words, “That would be okay?”

So yeah, you were different, but you hadn’t realized how much. The team walked on eggshells around you, not knowing how to act toward someone so uninterested. As a kid with superpowers, you would think other enhanced kids would make you feel normal for once. 

Sometimes you’d play with a stuffed animal, and if anyone called you childish, you threw a knife at them. Perhaps it was childish, but it gave your mind a sense of comfort. But since the meeting was last-minute—you had forgotten about it—you were scatterbrained getting out of your room. He nodded, his eyes sympathetic. Your hand went tense before you brushed against his. It was just a friendly offer, nothing more to it. 

Timothy Drake was someone you admired. It was a silent admiration, of course, the way you glance at him during his training. If everyone were privy to your distraction, they most definitely weren’t aware of your infatuation with Tim. 

You reached for his hand, gently poking at his pinky. You softly traced the bend of his limb, the indent of the bone, and his soft blue veins. His hands had you completely at ease. You carefully traced the nail bud, running your fingers around the chewed skin on the sides and the soft chip of the nail. You focused on his palm, tracing the etches and ridges of the soft scars. You tipped your fingers across his hand, your two fingers walking along.

You were able to listen to Cassie as you traced along Tim’s ring ringer, carefully circling it. You find yourself reaching for your brown hair tie to slide it onto his wrist, twisting it on him. Tim couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. He never saw you look so relaxed, or how cute you looked when your eyes got heavy. 

“How is everything with the preparation?” Cassie asked, her hands on her hips—a picture of Wonder Girl’s leadership. 

Your eyes softly fluttered open as you looked at her, “Sorry?”

Conner softly laughed as he leaned back—he wasn’t one for these meetings either. 

Cassie took a sigh before she smiled at you, “The mission preparation?”

You blinked before explaining, “Right, I’ve been working with Red Robin on the extraction plan.”

Tim nodded as he reached for the mission details via the hologram, “Just right here, Cassie.”

Cassie continued to speak, her words escaping your ears. You stared at the hologram, the glare hitting your eyes. It was easy to get overstimulated, something you couldn’t help but keep hidden. You rubbed your eyes before nodding at everyone’s words. You tried to act normal. You traced Tim’s middle and index fingers absentmindedly on his lap.

“Why don’t we just start the extraction plan with me?” Bart chimed in, his legs propped up on the table. 

“That’s a horrible idea, you have no stealth,” Connor said. 

Bart shook his head, “I can be stealthy, super stealthy.”

“Last mission, you faceplanted into a pig pen,” Tim added with a smirk.

“Can we please get back on track?” Cassie asked, her eyebrows furrowed—whose idea was it to start a superhero group with teenagers?

Bart scoffed as he stretched out his arms, “I’m just saying, I could be in and out of there in a…”

“Don’t say flash,” Garfield begged. 

“A flash.”

The group erupts with disgruntled noises. Your eyes darted around; there was too much going on at once. You hadn’t noticed, but your hands stopped touching Tim’s. You began to retreat in on yourself, the shadows pooling at your feet. 

“Hey, you okay?” Tim asked, pulling you out of your spiral.

You looked up at him, your hands gently pressed against your ears. 

“Is the noise too much?”

You nodded softly, staring up at him. He pulled your chair closer to his as he reached for your hand. 

Cass rolled her eyes, bringing the attention back, “Okay, let’s refocus. We’re getting reports that something's brewing at Cadmus labs.”

It was all the same, every meeting: reports on this, reports on that. You were starting to doze off, much to Bart’s dismay. It’s not to say the two of you hated one another, but Bart was frequently on the receiving end of your glares. He said he enjoyed your leftovers, and you stabbed him in the leg; you two hadn't seen eye-to-eye since. 

“Cassie? Should we really be sending sleepyhead on a mission?”

Your ears perked up as you squeezed Tim’s hand, “Are you serious, Impulse?”

Sure, you didn’t know much about Luthor (other than the fact that he was a corrupt villain), but you knew the seriousness of Cadmus lab. It could have been another Conner situation, only this time, they wouldn’t be so friendly. Suffice to say, you knew it would be bad, and you would be able to handle it, after your afternoon nap.

Bart seemed to enjoy being on your bad side. “You barely train with the group. How are we supposed to trust you to have our backs?”

Your eyes widened as you clenched your teeth, “I’m completely up-to-date with my training, you really don’t trust me?”

He shrugged, “How can I trust someone who’s never there?”

Tim sat up, stroking your hand, “Alright, guys, let’s cool it—”

“I’m just saying, if I were about to die, I wouldn’t trust Miss Spacey in a million years.”

Your hands clasped the table as your brows furrowed, “I would be happy to let you die, Bart, so long as you keep acting like a dick.”

He wasn’t backing down. “Rather be a dick than have chronic insomnia.”

That did it. Your eye twitched as you shot up out of your chair, “Training room, right now, you and me.”

Bart chuckled, bouncing up on the balls of his feet, “Ready to lose?”

“Oh Christ…” Tim muttered. 

Tim thought he was good at diffusing conflict; it’s just a simple thing: make sure everyone feels valued and bring the tension down. At least he thought he was good at diffusing your aggression; it seems like he was wrong. 

You stood in the centre of the mat, your back straight and posed, “Are you ready?”

Bart chuckled, adjusting his googles, “Ready for you to lose, yeah.”

Tim thought he was a good teammate, but he couldn’t stop this dogfight in a million years; put two stubborn heroes in a room, they’re destined to fight it out. 

You just rolled your eyes, throwing a hard punch. Bart dodged it, quickly side-stepping. He fell right into your trap, as you hooked your foot under his and shoved him to the ground. 

He huffed, trying to zoom out of your hold, but you kneed him in the stomach, “Oh god.”

Your hands were tight around his arms, the moisture on his arm aiding in your power. 

“I fold.” He mumbled. 

But you didn’t let up. Bart could see the glint of your knife in your hand as you pressed it against his neck; you did love to play dirty. 

“Whoa, whoa, time out. I yielded.”

You nudged it closer to him, “I don’t care, take back what you said.”

Bart laughed softly, “What? You’re pissy because I said you’re not ready for the field?”

Your eyes darkened as you pressed your knife against his arm, gently cutting his skin.

“Fuck, fine…I take it back.”

You huffed as you pulled back, pocketing your knife as you left the room. Your glare wasn’t forgotten by all the members when they watched you depart. 

“She’s in a mood…” Conner chuckled, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah.” Tim agreed—he didn’t understand you sometimes. There was this anger inside you that had to be quelled with violence. He’d always worried where that had come from. 

Garfield smacked Tim’s arm, “You’re not gonna do anything?”

Tim’s eyebrow raised, “What are you talking about?”

Bart sat up, “That you’re totally in love with her?”

“Shut up, I am not.”

Cassie stood by the entrance with a grin, “It’s so obvious.”

Tim’s cheeks went red. “Shut up, it’s not obvious. Is it?”

Conner patted Tim’s back, “Let’s go check on her, Casanova.”

“I hate all of you.”

As soon as you returned to your room, the guilt came crashing in. It was your stupid emotions; they went from zero to a hundred. You felt awful for Bart; he was always in the crossfire of your anger, and this time you hurt him. Under the blanket, you curled up on your bed. Your head lay back as you held your teddy bear tight. Sometimes you wished you were normal, but alas, there was nothing you could do.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the world, but apparently not your visitors. Tim’s knocking was soft, barely audible. He pushed the door open as he zeroed in on your state. Connor stood by the door, leaning back. 

“Oh, angel, what’s wrong?”

Your eyes fluttered open as you groaned, “I’m horrible.”

He shook his head, kneeling beside you, “You’re not horrible.”

You sniffled as you crossed your arms, “I hurt Bart.”

“He had it coming,” Conner mumbled, your eyes drifting to yours. 

“No, he didn’t…” You took a shaky breath, a tear falling from your eye, “I can’t control myself, I’m a liability.”

Tim reached for your cheek, brushing away the tear, “Why are you saying this?”

“Because Bart was right…I’m exhausted all the time, can’t control my thoughts, and god forbid I can sit through a meeting. I’m weak.”

Conner stood up, gently crouching next to you, “You just have a different brain.”

You scoffed, your hands balling up, “Yeah, I’m stupid.”

“I’ve never thought you were stupid, spitfire,” Conner said, his hand reaching for yours. Tim’s eyes couldn’t help but widen—had he missed something? Since when was Conner so affectionate with you? He had to hide his jealousy for your sake. 

Tim reached for your other hand, “Your brain moves quicker than everyone, and yeah, sometimes it’s hard and you need a little extra stimulation, but that’s not a bad thing. I like how your brain is; it makes you amazing.”

You smiled at both boys, “Thank you.”

“Didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Conner chuckled, his thumb stroking your knuckles. Tim watched the way your eyes darted to Conner’s lips. 

“What’s going on?”

You look at Tim, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Tim stood up and pointed between the two of you, “This! His little look…and that stupid smirk.” Conner smirked at Tim, his eyes lingering on the snippet of skin showing his waist. 

Tim huffed, “Stop…don’t throw them my way.”

Conner sat next to you on the bed, eyes leering at Tim, “You’re not the only one who calms Y/N down…” 

Tim leaned in, hands resting on your bedframe. Conner delicately stroked your hair as he pulled you down into his lap. You just sighed, eyes closing. Tim blinked—he’d never seen you fall asleep that easily.

“You’re a witch.”

Conner rolled his eyes, laying you against his chest, “Hit the light off on your way out?”

Tim growled, obeying the Kryptonian. Oh, it was on. 

You barely remembered the conversation between Tim and Conner—you had passed out so quickly that your mind was bound to be hazy. When your eyes blinked open, Conner was staring down at you. “Morning, spitfire. Have a good sleep?”

You softly yawned, nuzzling into his hold, “Uh-huh.”

Conner gently kissed your head, “We’ve got that mission today, you up for it?”

You nodded—you weren’t sure when you became completely comfortable with Conner. He was certainly a grump, but he had a soft spot for you. The first time he saw you almost passed out from exhaustion; he’d carried you in his arms to bed. You begged him to stay, so he held you the whole night. Now, it had just become a regular thing.

His super-hearing was impeccable and completely dialled up to you. He could spot the tell-tale sign of your frustration in a millisecond. So when you’d started spending time with Tim, Conner hadn’t cared—what could Robin do that would make him a threat to Superboy? Perhaps Conner misread Tim’s determination.

Conner leaned in, his lips against yours, “Kiss for good luck?”

Your eyes widened as you nodded, leaning in before a knock sounded at your door. Conner huffed, standing up to see Tim. 

“Well, morning to both of you. I was just coming to invite you to breakfast.”

Conner stood up straight, “No thanks, we’ll have breakfast later.”

Tim tsked, “They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

Conner rolled his eyes.

“If you want to keep these big muscles of yours, you’d get a move on,” Tim said, his hand resting on Conner’s bicep. 

Conner’s eyes darkened, “Oh? You like me buff or something?”

Tim’s face went red, “What…no! You’re putting stupid words into my head. Just…come to breakfast, both of you.”

He glanced down at you, wanting to gauge your opinion on Conner’s flirting. You were fast asleep. “Jesus, you’re not beating the witch allegations, Kent.”

“How am I witch-like to you? Is it because I’m charming you into falling for me?”

“Just…” Tim took a breath, setting his hands on his hips, “Make sure she eats something.”

You woke up to Bart running laps in the training room. You didn’t even remember wandering in there. Your head grew dizzy as you watched him run, lap after lap. He slowly started to skid as he came up beside you, “What’s got you looking so pale?”

You blinked up at him and sighed, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Bart’s eyebrows furrowed, “That was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, I cut you.”

Bart chuckled, pulling up his sleeve, “I’ve got super fast healing.”

“Right…still, I am sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have riled you up. You’re just so much like me, at least my hyperness is manifested in speed, so no one bats an eye.” Bart pulled his goggles up to rest on his head. 

You smiled—Bart was the one person who understood, and you maybe resented him for being able to tell you your struggles.

He stretched out his legs as he sighed, “Listen, I trust you completely…I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’re my friend, you know?”

“You’re my friend too.”

“Great, as a friend…I think you should get some more rest.”

This would usually be the case when you lunged at him, your anger controlling your emotions, but instead, you just nodded. “I think I will.”

Conner and Tim had been at each other’s throats all morning. They hadn’t even thought about you, well, they thought about how the other acted around you. Not to say that either of the boys was right to be overprotective of you; they were just your teammates. Conner and Tim didn’t consider this; their frustration had grown to a new level. So when Cassie explained that the mission was pushed back, they both angrily stormed to the quarters. 

Conner’s width was quick as he approached your door, softly peeking inside. Tim grabbed his hand before he could. 

“Whoa, relax…why do you always have to check up on her?”

Coneor turned to look at Tim, “I’m sorry that I care.”

Tim clenched his jaw, “You don’t care…you’re obsessive, it’s weird.”

Conner chuckled, “I’m obsessive? You tiptoe around like you’re her nurse.”

The tension was rising, and both boys were staring at one another. Their eyes pierced into one another, both unwilling to let up. At least, until Conner’s eyes dropped down to Tim’s lips, and his hand reached for the boy’s waist. 

“What are you—” Tim asked, his words disappearing as Conner shushed him. 

“Just relax, Drake…I know you want to.”

Tim gulped—had he been that needy? “I don’t…”

Conner squeezed Tim’s waist, his hands trailed down his chest, “No? You just get this hard normally?”

Tim blushed as Conner tugged him closer, whispering in his ear, “I can make you feel good…I help Y/N all the time.”

Tim wasn’t sure what came over him as he nodded, mumbling a soft, “Please.”

Conner pressed his lips against Tim’s, devouring the sweet boy. Tim groaned, his hands reaching for Conner’s chest. His soft hands darted under his shirt before Conner pulled away, “Probably best not to do this in the hallway…” He said, before tugging Tim inside your room.

Both boys forgot you were inside, both caught up in their lust. Conner reached for Tim’s shirt and threw it to the side, his big hands caressing Tim’s abdomen. After staring at his prey, Conner tugged off his shirt—his chiselled Kryptonian stature causing Tim to drool. 

“Like what you see, Birdie?”

Tim nodded as he kneeled in front of Conner, “Can I?”

Conner chuckled, hands curling against Tim’s black strands, “Course you can…”

Tim pulled off Conner's belt and tugged his trousers down. He was almost face-to-face with Super Boy's throbbing cock. It twitched underneath his red briefs as Tim glanced up at Conner. 

Conner moaned, “Fuck…stop looking at me like that, you look like a damn deer.”

Tim smirked, sneaky hands pulling the fabric down as Conner’s cock sprang out. Holy shit—he was massive, and throbbing. Tim hadn’t fantasized much, but the idea of a huge cock splitting him open was a constant dream. 

“Go on…be a good birdie.”

Tim stared at Conner’s tip, drooling at the sweet nectar aching from the top. He darted out to taste the alien pre-come, which had the most delectable taste imaginable.

Tim moaned as Conner stroked his cheek, “I know, baby…it’s good.”

“So good…” Tim slurred as he kissed all over Conner’s pretty cock. He wanted it all, every last drop. Conner groaned, tugging Tim’s hair. Tim was gonna make this good for Conner; all this pent-up aggression was bad for the soul. 

Tim was sucking the life out of Conner’s cock, gagging softly, but never pulling off. Conner’s moans got louder, causing your eyes to flutter open. You were a bit disorientated as you rubbed your eyes. Reaching for your glasses, you observed a whimpering Tim sucking Conner’s cock.

You had no words, you just stared. Conner’s cock began to swell as he cursed, “Oh shit…I’m close.”

Tim whimpered around his member, hollowing his cheeks out. 

“You want to swallow my cum?”

Tim nodded, hands reaching down to fondle Conner’s balls. 

Conner felt his stomach tighten as he cried, “Fuck…okay, I’m gonna—”

Your eyes widened as you leaned in, your thighs squeezing.

“Birdie…I’m coming…” Conner moaned, his come filling up Tim’s awaiting mouth. Tim lapped it up, however, disregarded just how weighty Conner’s balls were. The cum dripped out of Tim’s mouth and onto his chest; Tim practically choked on all the cum. 

He didn’t look upset; in fact, he looked like he was in heaven. Conner kneeled down, gently stroking Tim’s cheek, “You okay?”

Tim hummed as he smiled, “You’re so fucking good.”

Conner laughed, kissing Tim’s forehead, “I should be telling you that…drained me dry.”

You coughed softly, the two boys breaking apart, “Mind to tell me why you woke me up?”

Tim and Conner glanced at each other, embarrassed at their deplorable conditions. Conner tried to tug up his briefs as Tim just avoided eye contact. 

“Y/N I’m sorry…” Conner began.

You stood up, stretching your arms above your head. The boys watched the way your shirt rose and your panties were in view. They were a lacy pair, no hiding the way your ass sat out. “You could’ve woken me up early…”

Tim blinked, still in shock at the whole thing. 

Conner chuckled, reaching for you as he kissed you passionately. He pulled away, “Wanted you to get some rest.”

Your eyes darted to Tim’s messy chest as you chuckled, “So messy, Con.”

Conner wrapped his arms around your waist as he smirked, “It’s his first time…not everyone can take all of me.”

Tim stared at the two of you, “What is going on?”

You tugged your shirt off, “Wanna fuck us, Tim?”

Tim’s jaw dropped as his pants tightened, “...is this a dream?”

Conner chuckled, watching as you sat back on the bed. You looked like a picture of lust. 

Tim whimpered, still sitting on your carpet. Conner coughed as Tim quickly sat on the bed, “Hi…”

You smiled as you reached for Tim’s hand, “Hi, Tim.” You slowly drag your finger across his chest, lapping up the extra cum, “Conner’s always got a huge load.”

Tim whimpered as you sucked your finger, now wet with your saliva. You softly dragged your manicured finger across his nipple, watching as his hips bucked up. 

Conner chuckled, “So eager, Birdie.” He had sat behind Tim, softly kissing his neck. 

Tim’s head was dizzy; trying to regain any sense of himself. But Conner’s soft kisses and your tugging of his nipples—he was in ecstasy.

You pulled away, Tim’s eyes fluttering open to look at you, “You look so beautiful like this.”

Conner hummed, sucking a large mark into Tim’s neck—Tim’s moans grew louder. 

Your hands crawl down to Tim’s sweatpants, your eyes wide and wanting. 

Tim just reached for your hand as Conner let up on his neck, “Shit…just give me a minute. This is so hot.”

You giggled as Conner leaned back, “Take all the time you need, Birdie.”

Tim’s cheeks flushed darker at Conner’s teasing name. He glanced back at you as you pouted at him, your fingers delicately drumming on his pants. Tim gulped, his throat bobbing. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you yanked the material off of him. A grin spread across your face as you came into contact with his boxers. 

Your kiss all over the fabric, tongue dragging across the soiled spot near his tip. Tim’s eyes rolled back, as his hips bucked, “Please…god.”

You giggled as you took him out—his cock not as big as Conner’s, but it was long and slender. You squeezed your thighs as you thought about having him inside you, how far into you he would hit. 

You gently lie down, spreading your thighs apart. Tim shakily reaches for your panties, sliding them down—his eyes locked on the slick that gushed. Conner leaned in behind Tim, his hand coming to jerk Tim’s cock. “She’s so wet…”

Tim nodded, his head hazy as he leaned down, “Can I…fuck, can I taste you?”

You hummed. Your thighs spread further apart as Tim stared deeply into your pussy. “She’s so pretty…”

You bit your lip at his words, Conner sliding in behind you as he tugged up your shirt. His hand fondled your tits as you moaned. “Mmm, just wait until you fuck her.”

Tim wasted no time, diving into your folds, your hip bucking up, “Oh shit.” 

He stuck his tongue inside your folds, circling up to suck the clit. 

Conner chuckled, kissing your tits. 

You moaned as you pulled Tim by his hair, needing him closer. He happily obliged, tonguing you faster. Your hips bucked up as you ground against Tim, all while Conner held you tight against his chest, “You got this, baby…come on.”

You squeezed your eyes, vision going hazy as Tim sucked on your clit, gently prodding two fingers inside of you. He curled them up as you whimpered, pleasure rolling through your body, “Tim…don’t stop, god…”

Your pussy cried as you hit your peak, thighs shaking around Tim’s head. 

Tim ducked up from your pussy, his lips wet, “Was that good?”

You nodded as you let your head fall back, “So good.”’

Conner groaned as he kissed Tim’s lips, slipping his tongue inside. You moaned as you watched the two make out on top of you. Your hips rolled back and forth.

Conner chuckled, “Don’t worry, birdie here is gonna fuck you.”

Conner ran his hand down Tim’s back as he arched into the Kryptonian.

Spitting on Tim’s cock and then stroking him, Conner leaned once more, “And while you fuck that pretty pussy…I’m gonna fuck your tight ass.” 

Tim's cock jumped, just briefly breaching your entrance. You moaned, holding him closer, “Stop teasing.”

Tim nodded, letting out a shaky sigh, “Sorry, lemme…” He slowly thrust into you, his eyes rolling back. He had to hold his pleasure, not wanting to finish way too early. You let him get settled as you looked at Conner, your eyes enticing. He softly kissed your lips before sucking his thumb, and pushing it through Tim’s ass. 

“Oh my fuck…” Tim cried, thrusting deeper into you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Con…not everyone’s gotten fucked in the ass before.”

Conner continued to open up to Tim, but with soft touches instead. Tim’s thrusts were soft, taking time to savour the moment. You felt every vein, every ridge, but your pussy craved for more. You wanted it fast, hard. That was the best way to relax.

You pulled out of Tim as he complained before you turned around, shaking your ass and displaying your dripping pussy, “Go faster, please…”

Tim wasn’t sure if you were talking to him, and you weren’t. Conner reached for the lube as he soaked up his cock, gently pushing inside Tim. 

Tim’s cries turned whiny as he pushed deeper into you, just as Conner did to him. 

He was in heaven, with the way you pushed his hips into you, and with Conner’s plunging deeper into his prostate. Tim’s back arched as you rocked your ass down. 

His cries turned louder as you squeezed down on him, “Please, please,…fuck please.”

You huffed, sticking your fingers in his mouth—you didn’t want to get caught. Tim’s lips circled around your fingers, trying to be a good boy. 

Conner pulled out of Tim at the same time you slid off his cock. Tim practically sobbed before you sat into his lap, settling back on his cock. Conner came behind you, ramming back through Tim.

Tim lay his head against the pillow when he felt you bounce up and down on him. It was all too much, “Oh fuck…I’m close. Please…”

Conner groaned, squeezing your ass as you rode on Tim’s cock. “Yeah, birdie, you gonna come? Gonna cum inside our pretty girl.”

Tim cried, his eyes squeezing shut, stomach tightening, “It feels so good, Conner. You feel so good, Y/N.” 

You kissed his lips softly before you went back to your movements. You were so wet that he could easily fill you up, and god, did you love it.

“I…I’m gonna come, fuck…”

Conner chuckled, pounding into him faster, “Let us make a mess of you.”

Tim’s cum filled up inside you, as you squeezed hard, your pleasure erupting. Conner kissed your neck as he rocked your hips onto Tim.

You softly mumbled, “Fuck Tim, you’re making me come…”

You whimpered as your thighs shook, your spent body falling into his lap. You hummed as you felt his cock nestle inside of you. Conner grunted before letting out a shaky moan, “God, me too.”

You watched the way his abdomen clenched, his hard abs tightening. You bit your lip as Conner’s cock filled Tim’s hole, overflowing almost entirely. He gently pulled out of Tim when his cum dripped out, and you were already bent back over with your pussy, letting him spill his last drops into you. He nestled into you as he moaned, “Fuck…always need your pussy.”

Conner kissed your neck before laying you down on the bed, cuddling against Tim. He grabbed a cloth as he cleaned both you and Tim up, since it was primarily Conner’s mess. 

He sat back down, watching as Tim blinked up at him. 

“I’ve never…come that hard before,” Tim said, his eyes heavy.

You chuckled, kissing Tim’s cheek, “Yeah, Conner will do that to you.”

Connor smirked, kissing Tim’s head, “Get some sleep, Birdie.”

Tim blinked up and pouted, “What?”

“We’ve got a mission tomorrow.”

Tim sighed, “Right…goodnight.” 

You’d never seen Tim pass out that quickly, but you figured it was time he finally got some rest. When you sat up, Conner’s smiling at you, “You’re both so beautiful.”

You felt your face heat up, “Shut up.”

Conner held your waist as he nestled you into his lap. You bit your lip as his cock—already hard—nudged against you. Tim had a lot of things going for him, but he needed his rest. That was fine, because the Kryptonian boy behind you could destroy you for hours. 

“Please…” You mumbled before your lips pressed against his.

Conner smirked, pushing into you. His hands reached around to your waist. “Now, lemme help you sleep like Birdie.”

AN: well...hope you enjoyed? :)

[gabsandbucky]

Smudged Eyes and Lace

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

wc: 2.9k

Summary: You and Rodrick have been best friends since childhood. You've harboured this crush for years, but with a bit of alcohol-induced chatterings, you may start to become more than friends... Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, lowkey black cat!reader, drinking, throwing-up, sub!rodrick, switch!reader, praise kink, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cutie couple.

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

an: been busy with school, please enjoy this :)

It’s unclear when you and Rodrick became attached at the hip. Perhaps it was when you stood up for him in the third grade as you shoved Tommy H down the slide after he called Rodrick a loser. Or maybe it was when he found you hiding in the janitor’s closet during the seventh-grade dance, sobbing your eyes out, and he comforted you with movies and popcorn. 

Mrs. Heffley wished Rodrick would finally make a move on you—you were someone who could control Rodrick. You were also incredibly sweet and considerate, also making sure to compliment her cooking when you stayed for dinner. So, why hadn’t Rodrick asked you out yet? Well, the one problem with that was that he was a coward. You were so pretty it made his head spin, and then the words just came out wrong. 

When you walked into his room, you saw a frustrated Rodrick and an eyeliner pencil. You couldn’t help but grin, “Had a fight with your pencil?”

He scowled at you as he turned on his side, “Shut up, it’s hard to do, poked myself.”

You giggled as you crawled over to him, “Could’ve asked me, you know, your friend who wears eyeliner.”

He pouted before he looked up at you, his eyes widened, “Oh…can you do it?”

“Course I can, take a seat.”

You bit your lip as you focused on his eyeliner. He was a less cooperative model than you hoped, moving every second. You pulled back and chastised him, “Quit moving.” 

You grabbed his jaw as you applied the pencil, delicately drawing against his eyelid. 

He pouted as he looked up at you, “Sorry, miss bossy.”

“And you’re the dumbass who poked his eye.”

He huffed as he crossed his arms, “That was an accident."

You pouted your lip at Rodrick. “Does your eye hurt?” You stroked his cheek.

His eyes widened as he shook his head. “Did earlier…it’s okay now”

You smiled, smudging out the wings of the eyeliner.

“You know, you’re pretty punk rock at this. How’d you get so good?” He asked.

You looked at Rodrick and laughed. Turning to his mirror and fanning out your own liner. Before returning to him with a smile, “Practice.”

“Shut up, that doesn’t help,” He said, slightly shoving you. 

You chuckled, “It’s not natural talent that’s for sure.”

You hummed a catchy Gaga song as you drew on his other eye. Your eyes were fixed on your creation. He had to resist the urge to peek; he loved seeing you so happy.

“So, we’re going to Heather’s party tonight?” You asked, holding onto his chin.

“Yeah, some members of the band were invited, scored us an invite.”

You finished his eyeliner and turned his head to the mirror. “How do you like it?”

He smiled as he leaned in. He couldn't believe how punk you made him look—he would've let you do whatever you wanted just so he could feel your soft touch again. “It looks sick, thanks, babe.”

”No worries, love.” You puckered up your lips and applied a dark red lipstick. Rodrick’s eyes widened; he tried not to drool. His hand delicately reached into your styled hair as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t mess it up yet. I have all night.”

He smiled, gently twirling your hair, “It’s so bouncy.”

You resisted a grin as you stood up. In front of the mirror, you adjusted the lacy black dress and reached for your docs. 

“Are we ready to go?”

His eyes followed before he quickly stood up, trying to mentally will down his hard-on.

You and Rodrick went down the stairs, your eyes drifting to Rowley and Greg. You smiled with a big wave, “I’ll see you later…I want to play Mario Party.”

Greg began to talk—he hated Rodrick, but he loved playing Nintendo with you. But Rodrick tugged your arm as he led you out the front door. 

“Goodbye!” Rowley waved. 

Greg would normally tattle about Rodrick’s absences, but he never wanted to get you into trouble, so he kept your sneaking out to the party with his brother a secret. Rodrick helped you inside his bandmate’s car as you roared onto the party.

The house was loud, lights beaming. It was too intense, too quickly. You frowned before Rodrick reached for your hand. Your eyes soften. 

“Why don’t we get some drinks, yeah?”

You followed him, letting him be the gentleman, “Yeah, okay.”

The chaos of the party seemed to reverberate in every move, but you felt okay. You squeezed Rodrick’s hand, feeling his cool rings against your warm hand. 

Rodrick only stopped when he saw a punch bowl, grabbing two red Solo cups, “Here’s to spiked Kool-Aid.”

“Cheers to that.” You chugged the punch with a grin, your head turning to the Britney song as your hands reach for his, “Come on.” 

He chuckled as he let you dance with him. His eyes were watching the way you bounced excitedly—hopefully you didn’t see his blush. 

Now you didn’t remember when you began to lose sight of Rodrick; it might’ve been after the second tequila shot. Stupid Heather Hills for luring you in with booze. She might’ve been an airhead, but she was a great friend; it always seemed strange that the two of you were friends. 

Rodrick remembered the first moment he lost sight of you. Your hand fell from his grasp when he heard Heather’s chattering voice. It wasn’t like he hated Heather—he just thought it would be the two of you. He shook his head; he was acting jealous, and embarrassingly so. He wouldn’t worry about you for a bit, his eyes drifting to his bandmate. 

When you stumbled into his arms an hour later, he started to worry. 

“Oh, are you okay?”

You cracked a smile, “Um….yeah.”

He watched you lean into his hold before your arms slipped, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, “Wow.”

Your head turned up at him as you smiled widely. “You’re so pretty.”

Rodrick’s heart began to race—it was always jokes with the two of you. You sounded so loving, causing him to blush, “Jesus, come on, I’m taking you home.”

You made it to the front lawn when your feet stopped.

“Can I stay with you?”

He squeezed his arms around you, “Of course you can stay. I could never leave you passed out on the grass.”

“You’re funny.” You laughed before groaning, “I don’t feel so good.”

His eyes peeped—oh shit—as he frowned, “Hey, don’t throw up on me–”

You nodded as you turned away from your friend, shuffling into the bushes. You leaned your head forward, avoiding your shoes. He watched as you began to open your mouth, your hair puffy. He scurried behind you, grabbing your hair, “Careful, you look like a little raccoon.”

You were throwing up, but you still had the sass to throw up the finger at Rodrick. 

You heard his soft chuckles as he tied up your hair. He always kept a hair tie on his wrist for you, usually because it was yours and you didn’t want it to clash with your bracelets again.  

When you turned onto the familiar street, Rodrick squeezed your hand, “Did you intend to get wasted tonight?”

You frowned, eyes looking down to the sidewalk, “Just didn’t want to think for a night.”

“That’s a bit concerning.”

You looked up at him, his gaze worried. “It’s fine. Just had a tough week.”

He sighed as he stroked your palm—of course, he knew about your week, you had told him all about it. He remembered everything you liked to tell him; he was happy to let you listen.

He reached for the lock, his hand fumbling behind him. You were the one who made sure Rodrick remembered the keys. You reached into his back left pocket and handed it to him, “Here you go, prince. Are your parents home yet?”

He turned the lock, softly pushing open the door, “Car’s not in the driveway.” 

You hummed, softly tiptoeing up the stairs. You never wanted to wake up Greg or Rowley; poor boys needed their sleep. 

When you made it to Rodrick’s room, you toppled onto the bed. Your legs stretched out. Rodrick already made his way to your docs, untying them and taking them off of you. When you were left in your socks, he reached for your fuzzy socks. You smiled as you put them on. You reached behind yourself, beginning to slide the zipper down. You groaned before you looked up at him. 

“Need some help?” He chuckled.

You pouted your lip and nodded, holding your arms up. He reached for your arms, tugging off your dress, eyes flickering away from you as soon as it was off. Oh, how he wished he could kiss you, hug you tightly. He fiddled with his thumbs as you rustled up some clothes from his dresser. 

You huffed, head lying against the pillow, when he turned back around. He smiled at your exhaustion, his hand reaching for yours, “Don’t go to bed yet. Let me get you an aspirin.”

“That’s tomorrow me’s problem.”

He shook his head, “I’ll hear you whining all morning when you wake up hungover.”

“Weren’t you whining about your eye makeup?”

He blushed, “Whining? I was not–”

“Tomorrow, I won’t be complaining.” You buried yourself in the blankets as Rodrick grabbed your makeup wipes, removing your liner. He tucked himself beside in the bed, your head turning to him, “You didn’t have to, Rodrick.”

He smiled back, reaching for your hand. “I don’t mind.”

You were expecting the pounding in your head when you woke up. What you weren’t expecting was to be lying against Rodrick, head curled on his chest. It was both the nausea and embarrassment that had you scrambling out of bed. Rodrick’s ears fluttered up as your feet pattered across the floor. He barely blinked before he heard your retching, following quick behind you.

“Jesus, are you okay?” 

You groaned from the bowl, “I feel awful.” 

He soothingly ran his hand along your back. 

You lay your face on the cool tiles as you groaned in frustration. Your eyes closed, “I look awful and tired.”

He chuckled, “You don’t. You just look like a little raccoon. I’m sorry you don’t feel good.”

You squeezed his wrist before you groaned, “Oh god…”

His hand went straight into your hair as he retied it, resting his hand against yours.

Once you began to relax, he sat down next to you. “You usually get stoned with me when you’re stressed, but when you drink…you must be really stressed.”

You lay your head back against the wall, “It’s embarrassing.”

He shook his head, “I tell you embarrassing things all the time.” He took a breath, “I mean, I would never say anything to anyone.”

You knew that, he was your best friend. You sighed, “I just kept drinking because I’m falling in love with you.”

His eyes widened—this was his biggest dream come true. But he couldn’t understand—you were amazing, and he was just Rodrick.

“You’re falling in love with me?”

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, don’t make me say it again.”

He shook his head, “But I wanna hear it again.” 

You watched his eyes drift down to your lips before he flushed. 

“Wait. I’ve been puking all morning, I’m just going to brush my teeth first.” You stood up slowly, grabbing your spare toothbrush. Rodrick smiled, reaching for his toothbrush. He stood behind you, reaching for your waist. 

You darted straight back to bed, tucking yourself under the covers, “So, can I call you my boyfriend now?”

“Please do.”

Your hand weaselled around the blanket, a smile shone bright at him, “I wanna kiss you now…”

Grasping his shirt, Rodrick shuddered, “Please.”

You leaned in, lips against lips. If only you were still wearing your dark red lipstick—marking up Rodrick’s pretty neck was one of your dreams. 

He softly groaned, his lips pushing back with a soft intensity. Your hands skillfully slide under his t-shirt. He smiled before his head turned, “Shit, door…”

He scurried to the lock on his door—he really didn’t want his mom walking in. He lifted you into his lap, bringing your hands to his abdomen. “Okay, sorry–”

Your hands reached into his hair as you kissed along his throat. He shuddered, hands around your thighs, “Oh god…”. 

You kissed farther down before you suckled along his pulse point, a soft mark around your kiss, “Fuck.”

“Got to be quiet for me, sweet boy.” You teased, wrapping your fingers around his scalp before pulling gently.

“Shut up,” Rodrick groaned. His face went red.

You stroked his hair, eyes piercing, “You like being good for me?”

He flushed even redder, unable to articulate a thought, “Uh-huh.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? My good boy,” 

His shirt came off as you kissed down his chest, hands crawling to his lap. He hissed when your hand rested against his hard lap. 

He gulped, his heart racing as he watched your pretty hands.

“Can I?”

He nodded frantically, your hands dipping under his boxers to tug him out. You gently pump him, watching the flesh tighten, green veins bulging.

“Do you like that?”

He nodded, eyes fluttering shut.

You moved your hand a bit faster, leaning down as saliva dripped from your glossed lips.

His forehead leaned against your shoulder as he shuddered out a moan, “Feels so good.”

You didn’t let up. “That’s it, baby, you got it.”

His breathing grew heavier as he bit his lip. “Oh, please…”

Closer and closer, you smiled, “Can you be a good boy and come?”

His body shook as he nodded, “Uh-huh.” He rocked his hips up as he came, his seed spilling all over your face. He looked at the state he left you in as he panicked, “Shit, I’m so sorry–”

You moaned as you dragged your finger across your face and sucked.

“Stop,” he begged.

“Why? You taste so good.” You made a show of licking your fingers.

“You’re gonna kill me.”

You leaned forward with a giggle, “I intend to.” 

You tugged off the rest of your clothes as you lay down on the bed. Rodrick quickly made work of kissing down your neck, just as you had done to him. You squeezed your eyes shut as you moaned, “Oh, Rodrick.”

He sucked down to your tits. His tongue around your nipples. His hand wandered down as your pussy cried. He groaned, lightly teasing your folds. His fingers gently teased up to your clit as you gasped, “Rodrick.”

His kisses moved farther as he teased your inner thighs. You tried to relax, but his teasing touches weren’t enough. “Please, I need you.”

“Only because you begged.”

You rolled your eyes before he brushed his nose against your clit, tongue into your folds. You threw your head back in a broken moan. “Oh my…”

He sucked around your clit as your hole leaked. It wasn’t enough.

“God, Rodrick. Your hands.” You almost drooled at his veiny hand.

He groaned at your praise, looking down at his hands, “What should these hands do?”

You glared at him as he kissed your cheek with a frown, “I’m sorry.”

He sucked his two fingers, sliding them inside you. You whimpered, hands curling against his wrist, “Oh god.”

He moved back to your clit as he thrusted, trying to give you something good. 

And what he was doing was good, as evidenced by your hands tightening around his hair. 

He felt your pussy squeeze around his finger as he grinned, “Close?” 

You shook your head and pouted, “I want you inside me.”

“You do?” He gulped, his cock gently jumping.

You whimpered, “So badly.”

He nodded before laying you down, his hands sweeping through your folds. Your wetness slicked up his cock as he pushed in. It wasn’t enough, just an inch through. He had to pull back. “I’m sorry…it’s just…”

You reached for his cheek, “It’s okay, Rodrick, take your time.”

He shook his head as he pumped his cock. He took a deep breath as he pressed his lips against yours—you clenched, feeling the mushroom tip.

You both shivered as he took a moment to pause, “Feels good?”

You choke out a moan, “Oh my god, so good.”

He nodded as he moved faster, his kisses against your cheek.

Neither of you could tease the other one—you felt so connected and euphoric

Rodrick whimpered, arms tightly around you, as you whined. 

Pleasure sparked inside you with every movement. You stared into Rodrick’s eyes as he kissed you. His hips rocketing faster into you, slick, making it easy.

You felt your pleasure peak as you whimpered, “I’m so close.”

He nodded, fingers darting down to your clit, “Please, oh god, faster.”

In a moment, there was a burst of white hot pleasure as you clenched around him. He cried out as his cock tightened and burst, cum filling up your pussy. You couldn’t help but nuzzle against him, arms tightly wrapped around him. He inhaled your scent before running his finger through your hair. His cock just soft inside of you, his eyes filled with pure love. You kiss him longingly, “I feel good.”

“I’ve never come that hard. You’re so good.” He gulped. 

You kissed his cheek, quickly darting into the bathroom. You sat naked on the toilet, your eyes darting as you reached for a pair of his boxers, before climbing back into bed. 

“Those boxers look cute on you.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah, sure you don’t just like my ass in them?” You stood back up and turned around. 

He groaned, “I can’t help it, I like your ass in everything.”

You giggled as you curled back in his arms, “Cuddle time?”

He held you against his chest, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

[gabsandbucky]

A Small Pinch Or A Big Ache

pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Wc: 4.4k

Summary: The plan was for you and Dustin to help an injured Eddie get back to full strength. You hadn't intended to fall in love with him. Or, the post-season 4 Eddie that we need. Warnings: slowburn, enhanced!reader, fluff, angst, Mews the cat, slight Steve attraction (he's hot, sorry), weed, making out.

AN: A part two is floating around my silly brain, so heheh.

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

Eddie Munson—he had saved your brother’s life in the upside-down, but no one had heard from him since. You weren’t sure if he was dead; well, many people thought he was dead or just in hiding. Dustin argued the latter—Eddie was resourceful and therefore could survive. So here you were, at 5 o’clock, standing in front of the boathouse, following behind Dustin as he walked inside. 

“Hello, Eddie?” Dustin asked. 

Eddie stormed out in a similar fashion to before, holding a paddle threateningly. 

Dustin could see the fear on his face and tried to calm him down, but you couldn’t stop the way your eyes were fixed on him. He was threatening your brother. You threw your hand out, the shadows throwing the paddle against the wall. You wouldn’t have used your powers because Dustin wanted you to be careful, but you were scared. Your eyes widened as you stared at the boy, blood dripping from your nose.

You could barely hear Dustin as he talked Eddie down. Your heart had been racing ever since everything went down with Vecna; you had been so on edge, desperate to protect Dustin and all your friends. Your heightened senses, coupled with your adrenaline, were a bad combo.

“How did you…” Eddie began to mutter, his eyes wide. 

You bit your lip nervously as you looked at Dustin.

“Well, she’s just different.”

“Different how?”

Before Dustin could expand, you cut him off. “Can we maybe continue this with the lights on...?” You were still pretty uneasy. Eddie hesitated at first, but flicked the lights on and turned back to you and Dustin. The blood from your nose seemed to have slowed a bit.

“She sort of has…powers.”

“Powers?”

Your annoyance with this boy seemed to outweigh your previous fear as you flick your wrist and the shadows knock over a can. The small marking of 000 etched onto your wrist

“Like a superhero?”

“Look, we can talk about this later, but for now, you’re coming home with us. You need help with those wounds.”

“Why should I trust you? You could be working with the cops for all I know.”

“Then trust Dustin, when has he ever steered you wrong?”

“Alright, fine…”

You packed into the red car your mom gave you, slowly pressing the ignition. You were supposed to get your license last month when all of the Vecna stuff went down. You hadn’t even had a chance to practice, but your mom had gotten the car from the neighbours, and you figured a little practice couldn’t hurt. It may have been risky, but it was safer to get Eddie with a car than a bunch of bikes. You tugged the gear shift into drive, slowly lurching as you pulled out of the driveway. 

“You do have a license, don’t you?”

You and Dustin looked at one another as you just nodded in unison, “Uh, yup.”

“Wow, sounds really convincing.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you turned onto the road. 

“Real natural behind the wheel, aren’t you?”

“Just a few more minutes,” You said, before you turned onto you and Dustin’s street, parking in the driveway. 

You threw Dustin the house keys as you helped Eddie out of the car. You gently grabbed his arm, not sure how weak the boy was. He seemed to stiffen up at your touch, but you weren’t going to let that deter you—he had been hiding for weeks, you understood his frustration. When inside, you and Dustin lead Eddie to your bedroom, already made up for the metalhead; the plan was to keep Eddie somewhere inconspicuous, and you were fine sleeping on the couch. “You’re sure you’re alright with me staying here, I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s fine...I’ve slept in worse places.” You mumbled, a brief memory flickering in your head of the sterile rooms in the lab, before you shook your head, “Just sit on the bed, I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

Dustin stood as he clicked on your record player; he knew how you liked the Smiths. When you returned, you smiled at Dustin. You sat beside Eddie, throwing on some gloves as you reached for his shirt. “I need to take this off. Is that okay?”

His eyes seemed to widen in panic before he nodded, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

That wasn’t convincing—you knew he was ashamed of his scars, and you wanted to ease that stress somewhat. When his bare chest became exposed, your eyes didn’t linger on his wounds; they flickered to his tattoos, “Wow, those are some cool bats.”

“Yeah, pretty badass, huh?”

You smiled, “They really are.”

You gently caressed them before shaking yourself back to focus, “Right, wounds…”

You opened up the kit, feeling Dustin’s shaky breath against your neck, “Dusty, you want to order some pizza or something?"

“Yeah, pizza sounds good.”

You began by cleaning all the wounds; you didn’t want them to get infected. Your sharp sewing needle glinted in the light as you attached the soft suture thread. The wounds were deep, familiar to you—you were used to this. 

You focused your attention on his side, biting your lip, “This is gonna hurt….”

You frowned as you paused, reaching for a teddy bear. “You can hold onto Teddy.”

“You’re serious?”

You frowned as you rolled your eyes, “It just...he helps me when I feel hurt.”

Eddie nodded, smiling earnestly at you, “Thank you for him.”

You wrapped up the stitches before taking care of the shallow wounds—the cuts only needed a few bandages.

“How do I look, doc?”

Your eyes sparkled as you smiled, “You look like hell...but also kind of metal.”

“Well, thank you, princess.”

You reached for a t-shirt. “Here, Steve brought over some clothes for when we found you.”

“Nice to know Harrington’s still looking out for me.”

Your hands then reached for some pyjama pants. “This is if you want to get more comfy...I’m just gonna check on Dustin with the food.”

You closed the door behind you, your hand holding your chest—why was your heart fluttering? This was just you helping Dustin’s friend; this wasn’t anything intimate. Yet a part of you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face. 

You helped Dustin with the pizza, grabbing some plates before you went back to Eddie. “You can come eat in the kitchen with Dustin...and if you see our cat, just be friendly.”

“Smells good, I’m starving,” Eddie said, stepping out of your room. 

You smiled as you reached for a glass of water and some aspirin, “Take this now…”

Your hand brushed against his before you huffed, reaching for some napkins to put on the table. Your heart had fluttered with the touch; god, you were pathetic. You couldn’t handle looking at him, so you quickly explained, “I’m just gonna get changed.” 

You rushed off, taking a deep breath—you were fine, nothing was going on between you and Eddie. He would always be thankful for your help, but it would be nothing more. You reached for your pyjama drawer, your hand shaky. 

“So Dustin, how have you really been holding up?” Eddie asked, leaning against the counter. Dustin looked up, his hands stopping on the pizza box. “It’s been a long few days. I just want to make sure everyone’s safe.”

“You really got a heart of gold, kid.”

You shuffled into the kitchen with your slippers as you grabbed a slice of pizza. Eddie looked over to you, a smile spreading. 

“I know Steve wanted to check up on you, Eddie...do you want him to come tomorrow, or maybe next week? I don’t want you to get overwhelmed. I know it’s a lot.”

Eddie’s eyes stilled into yours—he never would’ve expected someone to find him, much less take care of him the way you were.

“Yeah, next week is probably good, I think I need a few days, you know.”

Your hand reached for his with a squeeze, “Of course.”

You grabbed the phone to call Steve, updating him on everything.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Steve. It’s Zero…” You said the gang gave you the nickname, “We found Eddie, he’s...well, he’s okay, just a bit shaken-up, and injured. I think it’ll be good for you to stop by, maybe next week.”

Steve took a deep breath—he hadn’t thought Eddie was in that bad shape, “Of course, how is he doing?”

You took a beat before you sighed. “If we didn’t find him…he needed a few stitches. Now, we’re just hoping he gets his strength back.”

“That sounds bad. He’s gonna be okay?”

“Of course, he just needs time. You know what that’s like. Maybe I’ll swing by the store tomorrow to grab some movies.”

“Yeah, a distraction will help. How are you holding up?”

Your eyes widened. “Me? I’m fine…”

You weren’t sure if you were. Another stint in the upside down, it felt like you could never be normal, “It’s just weird...I can’t help feeling that a normal life isn’t in the cards for me.”

Steve chuckle rumbled in your ears. “Normal’s overrated, anyways.”

You giggled, “Thanks, Steve...how’s Rob?”

“She’s fine, still herself, annoying and wonderful.”

“Classic Robin…listen, I got to go. You take care of yourself?”

“Of course, you, Dustin, and Eddie take care!”

“We will, bye Stevie.” You hung up the phone before going back to the table—Steve was always so polite. 

Dustin wandered to the living room, turning on the TV as he ate his pizza. You returned to the kitchen table, now opposite Eddie, your shaky hands reaching for a slice of cheese. Your energy had been dwindling all day, and using your powers just made you more exhausted.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie asked, his words pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh, oh, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, you look exhausted.”

He already had so much on his plate, why add more? “It was just a long day. I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

“You need more than just sleep; you really need to relax.”

Your eyes widened with a nod. “I know, Eddie…”

“Alright, promise me you’ll sleep, no more overworking yourself.”

You just grinned with a nod—the lie hiding behind your heart. 

You helped Eddie into your bed, tucking the soft sheets over him, "I’ll just be in the living room, you can ask for help, and I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, but…you’ll be okay on the couch?”

“Of course, Mews is gonna curl up with me.” You smiled. Mews—the Henderson family cat—purred against your leg. “Just get some rest, Eddie.”

“You’re worried about me, but think a cat can protect you.”

“I can protect myself, Edward.” You said with a roll of eyes. “Tomorrow will work on regaining your strength, but today, just rest.”

You smiled as you closed the door, looking at Dustin in the kitchen. He was cleaning up the pizza. You wondered to him, “He’s asleep.” Your eyes glance over at the clock, “And we should get to bed too.” 

Dustin smiled, wandering down the hall to his room. He turned to look at you, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Dusty.”

You heard the click of his door before you picked up a tired Mews and curled him up on the couch. You kissed the top of his furry head before grabbing your blanket for him. You stepped back before quietly shifting into the shadows, reappearing on the roof. You tugged your sweater down as you sighed—you always liked to watch the stars. You had planned to stay for a few minutes to relax your mind, but your eyes began to flutter. 

Dustin was the first to wake up, and he walked into the living room thinking you’d greet him, but you were gone. He huffed as he slid on his slippers, walking outside to where he assumed you’d be: the roof. He tossed a rock, hitting you in the arm.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes as you took your position. You groaned, leaning back as the shadows engulfed you, reappearing next to Dustin, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the roof.”

Dustin yelped before he looked at you, “Shit, how are you so sneaky?”

You rolled your eyes, “I figured you’d been used to this by now, but I guess not.”

“Don’t think I can ever get used to you suddenly appearing.”

You shoved him as you walked back inside, stretching your stiff body, "Want some breakfast?”

You finished your breakfast with Dustin before he ran off, hoping to check in with Lucas and Max. You watched as Mews stretched his body out before meowing at you. You chuckled, running your hands through Mews’s coat.

You approached the couch, before your feet stopped, your ears perking. Eddie softly padded out of your bedroom. You stared, his curly hair all messy as he ran a ringed hand through it. His movement was a bit slow, evident from his injuries, but you couldn’t focus on that when his hands trailed down. Your eyes watched as his hands lifted up, revealing a glimpse of his stomach.

You bit your lip, admiring his pale skin, adorned with tattoos, and just below, a little patch of hair—your eyes widened. Eddie walked straight to the kitchen, “Looks like I missed out on breakfast…”

You took a moment before heading back to the kitchen, your hand reaching for a glass of water and an aspirin. 

Eddie grinned, taking the items, softly swallowing back the relief. His eyes darted to yours, his head tilting down, “Thanks. You still look really tired.”

You huffed as you rolled your eyes, “I’m fine, I’m just on edge…”

Eddie followed your movement to the stove. 

He frowned, “Yeah, but even more so than usual.”

You grumbled, fixing your glasses before you cracked two eggs into the frying pan, listening to them sizzle up.

He didn’t know how else to approach it. “You didn’t get much sleep last night?”

You sighed, your hands reached for a plate as you dressed the egg, placing it on the table for him, “Not really.” 

“Thanks. Couldn’t get comfortable?”

You shrugged. “I guess...But I did get a few hours.”

Eddie grabbed his fork with a sigh, “You know, a few hours isn’t enough.”

You reached for the kettle with a scowl, “Has anyone told you that you’re irritating?”

“Oh, plenty, some may even say it’s my specialty.”

Your hands reached for your mug as you turned to watch him, the way he softly ate his eggs. “I’ve got insomnia, so this isn’t anything new.”

“Just because it’s normal for you doesn’t make it healthy. After everything that happened, you really need rest.”

You rubbed your eyes with a huff, “This sounds like what I should be telling you…”

He chuckled, his hand reaching for a cup of orange juice, “Yeah, I guess I’m not really the pillar of self-care either.”

Your eyes darted to his wounds before you shook your head. He was fine, you just wished there was more you could do to help him. You busied yourself with your cup of tea as you sat at the table, eyes softly flickering to his.

“Just don’t put yourself on the back burner for me.”

You nodded, before you looked at the clock—Family Video would open soon, “I’m gonna get us some movies, do you have any preferences?”

“Well, I’m always done for a good horror movie.”

You reached for your coat with a pause, eyes widening, “Oh, for sure.” You turned to the door with a scowl; you were a bit of a scaredy cat when it came to horror. 

You turned your head back to his with a smirk, “And if I wanted to score some weed...you still have some on you?”

Eddie grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Of course. Why, you want to indulge?” His words were soft-spoken with a teasing quality. 

Your smirk turned into a gaping mouth as you opened the door—had he just? You quickly bid him goodbye, “I’ll be back soon, I guess, just play with Mews.”

The door shut behind you as Eddie stared at it—well, that was interesting. He flirted with you, and you ran. He sighed, his eyes drifting to Mew, grooming himself in the corner

“Um, yeah. I guess I’ll keep the cat company.”

You pedalled your bike all the way to Family Video. Reaching the bicycle lock, you hop off, your hands fastening the frame to the metal. The bell chimed as you walked through, smiling at Steve. “Stevie!” You smiled as you walked up to him.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite weirdo.” He grinned, his eyes catching the sunlight. You couldn’t help stare at Steve; he was pretty much the most handsome guy in Hawkins. You placed your hands on the counter, “I asked Eddie, and he wants horror movies...what are the most tame ones?”

Steve chuckled, “Oh, maybe Psycho, it’s a classic horror.”

You quickly darted to the aisles, Steve’s eyes following your soft steps. He leaned back on his stool, eyes flickering to his magazine. 

Once you made it back to him, you had four VHS tapes stacked in your arms. You gently laid them down. 

Steve smirked, “Oh, I see you went mostly what you like…”

You frowned as you stacked VHS tapes in your arms: Sure, you had Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Arc, and the Goonies with you, but you grabbed Psycho, and…one called The Shining.

“I figured I’d get some movies for myself because I don’t know how long I can watch horror.”

“Well then, you’ll love The Shining.”

You frowned as you glared at him, “You’re the worst.”

“I’m just messing with you.”

You huffed as you walked out of the store, Steve frowning—if anything, he knew the Shining was gonna mess you up. 

“Back already?”

You huffed, “I told you I’d be back soon.” 

“Fair point, I just didn’t expect you to be so on time, or obedient.”

You frowned, “Oi, I’m not obedient.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You just huffed, placing the tapes on the table as you kneeled towards Mew, “Hello Mewsy.”

“Okay, Psycho, The Shining, Indiana Jones, and, um, The Goonies?”

You looked up at him as you softly pet Mews. “Hey, The Goonies is a classic movie about friendship.”

“True, reminds me of a few misfits here in Hawkins.” 

“You’re weird.”

You and Eddie both looked at the clock; it was only noon.

“Guess we’ve got some time to kill.” He smirked. 

You frowned before you walked towards the VHS player, “We’re staring with the Goonies.”

You pushed the tape into the VHS player before lying back onto the couch. Eddie sat next to you, his hands reaching for the blanket to curl up over both of you. 

You smiled as you reached for the remote, heart fluttering. You barely got through the opening as your body began to relax, curling up against Eddie’s. He smiled, his arm reaching around your waist, laying you down against him. The two of you slept for the rest of the afternoon on the couch. 

Your eyes gently fluttered, coming up from Eddie’s lap, “Huh, what?”

He gently smiled at you, “Sleeping beauty is awake.”

Your eyes widened at the position, being so close to him, having just lain in his lap. Your eyes flickered to the clock. “I should probably start thinking about dinner.”

Eddie watched as you disappeared back into the kitchen—you’d pulled away again, even when he was sure you liked him, or god, maybe he was just projecting. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how you cared for him, his painful wounds. He followed after you, obediently taking the water and aspirin as he watched you flicker through the fridge. This was gonna be a long night. 

The second you spotted a yawn from Eddie, you frowned, helping him to bed. He wanted to dismiss your care, but it was sweet. As he climbed into bed, you just gestured to his stomach, “Can I check?”

He lifted his shirt up, his eyes watching your tender hands. You pulled back the bandage, inspecting his injuries before you tucked the blanket above him. “It's healing all good. Get some rest, okay?”

Eddie smiled, "You get some rest too."

“Yeah, I will…” You didn’t. 

You grumbled, your back flat against the couch as sleep evaded you. Your head turned to your door, the sounds of shifting covers and huffs. You frowned—it had been a few hours, and Eddie wasn’t asleep either. You waited a few more minutes before softly opening the door.

Eddie’s eyes darted to the door as he watched you step inside. He smiled, your soft hands closing the oak. You shuffled towards the bed. “Having trouble sleeping?”

He frowned, gently rubbing his eyes, “Yeah, something like that. Can’t shut my mind off.”

You nodded, moving to sit on the bed. Eddie’s heart began to pound. 

“Is there anything you need?”

Eddie reached for your hand, “Could you stay for a minute?”

Your eyes widened as you looked at him, the way his eyes darted to yours. You understood how hard it was to relax after experiencing something like that. The pure terror of being by yourself. 

“Okay.” You shuffled under the covers beside him.

He sighed, his head leaning back, “You don’t have to stay long, just until I fall asleep.”

You turned your head towards him, “Of course.”

You hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but your body ended up curled against him. He held your waist softly as you lay on his chest. Eddie blinked as the sunlight flickered through the windows, beginning to sit up. You grumbled as he moved, your gaze flickering back to him. “Shit, I must have fallen asleep here.”

Eddie leaned back down with a soft smile, “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. Slept well?”

You smiled, sitting up, “Yeah, I did.” Your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand, “It’s still super early…” You said as you lay back down.

He smiled as he curled his arms back around you. “Yeah, it’s barely even dawn. You could just stay?”

Your breath hitched before you nodded, lying back down on his chest, “Okay…”

“Just rest a little bit more.”

After the one time, you found yourself entangled with Eddie every night. You told yourself it was just because of the sleep, but you knew better—you couldn’t contain the feelings you felt for him anymore. 

You were so wound up, every sound had you on edge. Eddie noticed, but he didn’t know why. He was worried about you; he’d really thought you’d be relaxing more, but seeing your forced smile wasn’t convincing. He cornered you on Friday night, dangling a joint in front of you. 

“Would you do me the honour of partaking with me, princess?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, “Oh, yes, please.”

You both lie back in your bed, puffs of smoke escaping your lips. Perhaps it was self-indulgent to get high, but you figured a little relaxation would be nice for him, especially to relieve some pain.

You took a deep exhale, handing him the joint. “Is this helping your body?” You asked, your eyes fluttering. 

“Yeah, it’s numbing me out.”

You smiled, happy it was helping to soothe him; maybe it would do the same thing for you. You took another hit, exhaling with a giggle, “Wow…”

“Feeling good?” He asked, his voice raspy. 

You leaned into him as he brought the joint to your lips, staring at you as you exhaled. Your back sank against the pillows as you reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. You twisted the rings on his fingers with an innate curiosity. Eddie’s breath hitched as he held your hand to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

You turned on your side to face him. “Eddie…’ You mumbled, staring into his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I…” You started to say, but your words went nowhere.

“You?” He said, his hand playing with your hair.

“I think I really wanna kiss you, Eddie…”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he grinned, “You do?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, I want to kiss you, too.”

You giggled as you leaned in. Your eyes darted around nervously. “Can I kiss you?”

He smirked as he reached for your cheek with a soft nod, “Kiss me, darling.”

You dove forward, your lips colliding with his as you groaned. Eddie’s hand held the back of your neck. You pulled back for a breather before going back, his warm lips devouring yours. He climbed on top of you, hands holding your waist, “Is this okay?”

You groaned as you tugged him back down to your lips, “Don’t stop.”

He chuckled before kissing you harder, curling his fingers into your hair. You whimpered as his tongue delved into your mouth, tingles running down your spine. You taste the soft smoke against his lips and inhale his cedary scent. You felt dizzy, god. 

He pulled back as you groaned, “Are you okay?” His eyes were round as his hands stopped their movements. 

Your eyes fluttered before you locked eyes with him. You nodded, “It just feels...really good.”

He smirked, “Oh?”

You flipped him over as you straddled him, now taking the reins. He gulped as he held onto your waist, watching the way you dragged your fingers down his chest to his guitar pick necklace. You tugged it, Eddie inching up to meet you. 

“Keep kissing me, Eddie.”

“Whatever you want, princess.”

Your forehead bumped against his as your kisses grew feverish. You felt that you couldn’t get closer to him—you needed him, all of him. Maybe it was the weed making you so desperate. You didn’t even notice when you rocked your hips, but Eddie did. 

“Woah, princess…”

You stopped before you looked down, a sheepish smile, “Sorry, Eddie.”

He shook his head, “Just don’t wanna do something you’re not in the right headspace for.”

Your eyes widened; you wanted Eddie completely, and it wasn’t the weed talking. Maybe you had read it all wrong—maybe he didn’t like you as you thought. 

“Of course, we can still make out?”

He nodded, kissing your neck as you stared at the ceiling—this was all a big mistake. 

You lay against Eddie’s chest, watching his soft exhales. Did he even like you? Or was it just the heat of the moment? You felt sick, your first crush, and you’d already ruined it all. But god, you were selfish. This wasn’t about you; this was about getting Eddie back to health. How stupid could you be to make it all about yourself?

You knew you had to pull back; it was for Eddie’s sake. Why would he want an insomniac freak like you? It was a good thing you were both high, because you can chalk it up to the weed. You decided: you’d never tell Eddie how much you loved him, no matter how much it killed you. 

[gabsandbucky]

Let Me Keep You Warm in the Cold

pairing: Leo Valdez x Daughter of Hades!reader

Wc: 2.1k

Summary: Relationships are difficult for a child of Hades, especially when the one you've been seeing was the charismatic son of Hepheastus, Leo Valdez. Warnings: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, insecurities, smut, slapping, fingering, unprotected sex,

AN: I've loved Leo Valdez since I was a kid, so here's to my Percy Jackson fans :)

divider by: @strangergraphics-archive

Leo stands in front of your cabin, the snow softly cascading down the sky. He bounced on the balls of his feet, the tin in his warm hands filled with cookies. You and Leo had been together for a few months; could he even use the word together? You were so apprehensive whenever he mentioned anything about being official–one time, you disappeared into the shadows mid-conversation. It was just yesterday, when you had gotten into a huge, blown-out fight with him about this. He called you a coward, and you called him a dick. So here he was, hoping cookies would smooth everything over. 

It was a freezing day at camp, and therefore, you’d made no such plans to leave your cabin. Sure, it could get chilly in there, but you had an insane amount of blankets ready to keep you warm. What you weren’t expecting was company—Nico was spending the day down in the Underworld, and Hazel was over at Camp Jupiter. You yawned when you opened the door, in your dark pyjamas and glasses. Leo stood before you, a nervous grin on his face, “I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. I brought cookies.”

You usually would’ve told him to fuck off; that’s what you did with most visitors. But Leo was different—you still felt bad about your fight, and it was wrong to leave the poor boy in the cold. “Well... come inside, it’s freezing, gods.”

He shut the door, shaking his hair as soft snowflakes drifted out of it. He unzipped his jacket and removed his mittens before looking up at you, presenting the tin, “Chocolate chip, your favourite…they’re uh, well, kind of burnt.”

You suppressed a grin as you rolled your eyes, “You always burn things...I don’t mind.”

“I’m getting better…I have a fire extinguisher now.” He joked, taking a seat on one of the couches. You watched as he made himself comfortable, as you just stood. You were nervous, exceptionally so. You knew you had gone and screwed everything up—it was the only thing you were good at. He turned his head over to you with a slight grin, “You know you can sit down…if you want.”

You twitched your hands nervously as you looked up, “Alright.”

You took a seat beside him, a bit far away. It was awkward—just sitting in silence. He leaned into you with a grin, “You can always cuddle me, since it’s freezing.”

You just leaned away as you stood up, “You know I run cold.” 

You made yourself busy with the fireplace as you turned it on

He chuckled as he looked up at you, “Come here,” He said, extending his hand. 

Your eyes widened as he said that, your heart beating so fast. You just prod at the logs in the fireplace with a poker. 

He smiled at your nerves as he stood up, taking the poker out of your hands. He reaches for your hands, dragging you back to the couch. He pulled you to his lap, letting you bury yourself into him—gods, he was warm. “I’m not mad at you.” He explained. 

Your head pulled away as you looked at him, “But why?”

“It was just a dumb argument. You can be stubborn, and I can be annoying. ” He said, tugging you closer.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t a dumb squabble...we can’t agree on what we are…”

He stopped joking. “Are you serious?” A slight darkness covered his eyes, “I don’t understand why you won’t call me your boyfriend? Are you not committed or something?”

You looked up at him, a bit guilty as you bit your lip. How did you explain to him that you were filled with this crippling anxiety about this all falling apart?  

Leo’s heart couldn’t help but break, “Or is it that you’re ashamed of me?”

Your eyes widened as you immediately shook your head, “No...of course not.”

“Then enlighten me, why don’t you want to be together?” The hurt seeped out of his heart and into yours. Gods, you were already hurting him. He scoffed, “Is there someone else?”

You shook your head, “That’s not it…it’ll just be easier when you find someone else.”

He looked at you, confused and laughed, “How could I handle anyone else when I have you?”

“Yeah, that’s the point...I’m too much.”

“You’re not too much.” He shook his head as he tightened his grip on your hips, “Y/N, it’s you, you’re the one for me. I don’t know where I’d be able to find someone as beautiful, talented, amazing as you.” He had a wide grin on his face as he caressed your hair, “Sure, you drive me crazy, but that’s my favourite part.”

You nodded softly as you looked up at him. “Can you ask me then...ask me to...you know…”

His grin couldn’t help but grow wider, “You want me to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip as you moved your eyes away from him, “Don’t make me say it…”

He shook his head as he rubbed your cheeks, “No, I want to hear you say…please for me?”

You bit your lip as you looked back at him, taking a breath as your voice was shaky. 

“I want to be with you, Leo...I want to be your girlfriend…”

He couldn’t help but hold you tightly with his giddy excitement, “Thank the gods, babe.” 

He tugged you into his lips as he engulfed you. His hand slid under your shirt and up your sides. He pulled away as he stared at your shy grin, the panting of your chest contributing to your joy. Your eyes were bloodshot with a glassy hue, and your head felt dizzy. He smiled as he watched you lace around his neck. He felt a wave of possession that he could make you feel like, so dizzying. 

“You look hot, all flustered.”

You smiled as you sucked along his neck, harder as you tried to leave a mark. He bit his lip, soft moan escaping as you tighten his skin, “People are going to see.”

“Let them, let them know you belong to me…”

He couldn’t even explain to you how hot this was—you both being together and in love. He tugged off his hoodie as he leaned back, “Show them then.”

You smirked as you grabbed his arm, pulling him into the shadows as you shadow-travelled into your room. You quickly locked the door as you threw him down onto the bed.

He yelped softly as he fell onto the bed. He took in how ravishing you look, and dam, did he want more. Leo’s eyes sparkled with lust as he leaned up to meet your lips, “So controlling…”

“Shut up...or I’ll slap you.” You said, your eyes dark.

His adam’s apple bobbed nervously, as though you could tell just how into that he’d be, “Oh, you wouldn’t.”

You smirked as you sat on his hips, caressing his cheek before you slapped him. He groaned as the sting spread to his face, his eyes wide. Oh fuck, that was so hot. You stared at the pinky splotch on his cheek as you grabbed his chin. He couldn’t do it anymore—he grabbed your hips, bucking into you. You smiled before suckling on his fully exposed neck. 

“Gods...just want to mark you up...my hot boyfriend.”

He couldn’t even fathom how his shy girlfriend was controlling him right now—not that he minded. He just shivered, tightening his grip. He let out a whimper as your teeth marked against him, “Oh gods, mark me up wherever you want.”

He couldn’t stop his actions, his hips bucking faster. You could feel the way his hands pulled you down to meet his lap, and the friction his movements created.

You whimpered as he grinds up to you, “Oh gods, shit...don’t do that.”

He whined as he held you tight–his movements desperate, “I need it.”

You rolled your eyes with a moan, sitting off of him as you unbuckled his belt. He gasped as you threw down his jeans, his boxers now revealed. You hadn’t thought about Leo’s cock that way, at least not for a long time—okay, that was a lie. You just never expected to witness the way his cock would stretch against the fabric, and how it made no effort to hide the entire shape. His chest rose sharply as his thighs opened, tugging you closer, “You gonna stare all day?” 

You whimpered, clearly feeling as turned on as he was.

He chuckled as he tried to tease you, “It’s so easy to make you squirm.”

You slapped him again. Another groan leaves him as he smiles, “You really like that, huh?”

You grinned as you kissed his cheek, “So do you.”

The way his cock jumped told you all you needed to know. You pulled off your shirt and pants as you crawled onto him. You slightly shifted your position so your fabric met his—his cock now practically rutting against you.

You moaned as he gripped your chest, “Oh gods...Leo, please.”

He smiled at your whimpering as he flipped you over, you lying on your back. “I know, querida, I know it feels good.”

“Gods, you’re perfect.” He muttered huskily, his hands grabbing the waistband of his boxers.

“Take it off...take them, please.”

He pulled them down over his hips and kicked them off, leaving him completely naked and entirely bare for you. You drooled over his cock—the pinky bronze colour and the way it curved slightly to the left. Or maybe it was the way his green veins strained under the skin. It could very well be the soft pumping of precum over the head of his mushroom top and down the sides. Either way, you wanted him so bad. He leaned down to kiss you, burying his face into your neck and biting down on your shoulder.

“Can I…” He gasped against your skin, his words almost shaking. He grabbed your hips and ground into you again. “I need you.”

You felt his long fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. He groaned at your pussy, the beautiful wetness that formed. He couldn’t handle it, he dove in, kissing your pussy slowly. You tightened your hold on his hair as you moaned.

“Prettiest pussy in the world”

He started to suck against your clit as his slender finger slowly moved through you, “Oh, querida, you’re so tight.”

When he got to three fingers you had to stop him. “Just give me your cock.”

He whimpered as he nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

He slowly inserted himself into your hole, both of you moaning at the feeling. His cock rutted against the warm hole, his stomach tightening with pleasure.

“Holy shit, it feels so good.”

He nodded against your neck, breathing heavily, “Fuck.”

“Move a bit faster.”

He looked up and panted, “Need a minute.”

You smirked as you slapped his face, his cock jumping inside of you, “There’s your minute.”

“Fuck, love it when you slap me.”

You sat on his cock, feeling the way it nestled inside your folds. You’d never get over the feeling of being so full, so warm. You started to softly bounce, your ass moving up and down. He couldn’t help but smack your ass as you moan, “Such a naughty girl, like getting spanked.”

You huffed as you pressed your lips against his, in a sloppy kiss. He grunted, his hips jutting up as you groaned. And fuck, did he feel so good inside of you. 

“Leo, fuck, faster please.”

He nodded as he held onto your waist and bounced you up and down on his cock. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tugged his hair, your moans getting louder, “Oh fuck…”

He chuckled as he dragged his thumb down to your clit, swirling the bud as he felt your pussy tighten. “Yeah, you close to me, mi amor?”

You nodded, “Uh huh, please…”

“Oh, how could I say no to that pretty voice?”

He felt his cock swell inside of you as he cursed, thrusting tighter into you as he spurted inside, “Oh querida~”

You whimpered as your own orgasm ran through you, your thigh shaking as your pussy clamped down on him. The pleasure sparked inside your stomach and burst—your lips moving towards him as your tongues clash. You sighed as your arms tightened around him, head nuzzling against his chest, “Thank you.”

He chuckled as he kissed your cheek, “You’re my girlfriend…I’d do anything for you.”

Your smile grew wide as you now lay fully against him, Leo shuffling down into the bed as he reached for your blanket, “Get some rest.”

You yawned as your eyes shut, “Okay, goodnight, Leo.”

He smiled widely, heart blooming, “Goodnight, Bones.”