#a lot has happened peeps

[tottwritesfanfic]

Hope’s Fire State of Play - Chapter 37

This post is intended to be a quick (well, compared to re-reading the entire story, it’s actually still like 1200 words long) refresher for people who have already read Hope’s Fire up to and including chapter 37. As the last update was all the way back in 2018, and there are a lot of moving parts in this story, (as well as a lot of characters), I figured it might be helpful! Obviously, if you haven’t read all of the story up until this point, there are tremendous spoilers ahead, so please bear that in mind before clicking on the readmore.

So! Where is everyone, and what’s going on?

As of the end of Chapter 37 of Hope’s Fire, it is the early hours of Tuesday morning (it’s actually Tuesday 1st June 2004, although the full date isn’t especially relevant to the plot), and the story features: 12 Chosen Children, 12 Digimon Partners, 7/8 parents (who are actively involved for the time being), and about 20 different characters across the various areas of the story’s main setting. I tend to refer to this as the “Mirror World”, or MW for short, because the day/night cycle is the opposite of Earth’s. This also means that it is Tuesday afternoon in the MW. (Though that much is pretty arbirtrary and just helps to keep track of the story, it’s functionally just 12 hours offset and doesn’t much matter which way.)

The scale of Hope’s Fire makes it a little overwhelming to keep track of, honestly, which is why I tend to break the story down into “arcs” - not in terms of plot, but in terms of location.

At present, there are five main areas that the characters are spread across: Earth, the Digital World, and then three locations within the MW: “The City”, “The Forest City”, and “The Mountain Fastness”.

Of these five arcs, Earth and the Digital World (DW for short!) are pretty straightforward. Most of the kids and parents involved are using Taichi and Hikari’s apartment as their Earth-based hub, aside from poor Mr Ishida who is stuck at home all by himself, because Yamato and Sora disappeared from his apartment, and no one on Earth (or the DW) currently knows where they are, or what has happened to them.

In the Digital World, Daisuke and Iori are preparing to defend against signs of corruptions or distortions, because both the DW and the MW seem to have similar problems with creatures crossing between worlds and/or being corrupted as a result. This is a Bad Thing. Miyako is shortly to join them, because honestly, an army of two isn’t great, which means that Yamato and Takeru’s mother Natsuko is about to take over the role of liaison. She’s using Ken’s laptop, which runs chat software that connects to all the D-Terminals, and the phones of the older Chosen Children (CC) who don’t have D-Terminals.

One of the biggest challenges they face, therefore, is the fact that in the MW, the signal is spotty and often unreliable, and the CC are still learning its limitations. At times it has cut out for no obvious reason, leaving some of the CC dangerously under-informed. For example, there is signal in the Forest City, but not in the Mountain Fastness.

Speaking of the Fastness! This is where both Ken and Jou are, along with their partners. Jou accidentally dragged Ken and Wormmon into the MW via a Fear Gate, which came as something of a shock to everyone. Jou was injured in this incident, breaking both his foot and the frame of his glasses. This puts them in a doubly awkward position, as the Fastness seems to be rather disorganised and poorly resourced, and they are currently trying to persuade the local inhabitants to help them link up with the others. How they will manage this with Jou’s injury and the fact that the Fastness largely regards the world outside as impassable? That remains to be seen.

Meanwhile, in the Forest City, Taichi, Koushiro and Takeru are all recovering from various wounds and fatigue they suffered over the last few days. Taichi fared best, with just a few cuts and scrapes, but Koushiro and Takeru were both badly injured by a fall on Sunday, and these injuries were made worse by their lack of immediate access to proper medical treatment. Despite breaking his wrist, Koushiro is already impatient and trying to research as best he can with only one good hand and no laptop, while Takeru has basically only just woken up as he was already injured before the fall, which…he’s not having a good time, okay? He’s been better. They have all been reunited with their partners, which is a big source of relief for Koushiro…and also Hikari!

Hikari is in the Forest City too, but had a very different experience getting there, and is the only CC to have made a deliberate return journey to Earth in order to resupply, (bringing Alwyn, a resident of the Forest City, with her when she did so). After being separated from Tailmon when her partner was dragged back to Earth without her, Hikari made the unfortunate discovery that, unlike in the DW, their electronic devices are more than capable of running out of power in the MW.

Unaware that the other three were on their way to the Forest City, she was forced to put herself in harm’s way to get her devices working, and carry back a message to the others on Earth. Hikari returned to the Forest City with a large selection of batteries, and Tentomon in tow, and is currently trying to acclimate herself to the time difference between worlds. She is also happily reunited with Tailmon, who had previously returned to the MW with Taichi and the others.

Despite some of the aforementioned communication hiccoughs, for the most part, everyone mentioned so far is on the same page in terms of what they know about the others and their progress. This is definitely not the case when it comes to the final plot arc, centred in The City.

What is known is that Yamato was exploring the location, and vanished in the early hours of Sunday morning. Following his disappearance, Sora also vanished from his apartment in equally (if not more!) mysterious circumstances late on Sunday evening. Both have their partners with them, but (with one exception!) this is all that anyone else knows.

In fact, Yamato was apprehended by soldiers of The City on Sunday, who mistook him for an enemy spy, and interrogated him as a result. Following the trauma of this interrogation, Yamato was thrown back to Earth via a Fear Gate, at which point he accidentally dragged Sora and Piyomon over to the MW, as he was fearful for Gabumon’s safety. Sora was then also subjected to an interrogation by a mysterious and unpleasant person known as Lord Cahir, who afterwards erased Sora’s memories of this encounter.

As a direct result of this, not only do the others not know where Yamato and Sora (and their partners) are, but the two of them are also very much isolated and ignorant of what has been happening elsewhere. Additionally, having spent several days with little food or water in cold dungeons, neither they nor their partners are faring particularly well.

However! Having found herself amid a mysterious city herself, Mimi had been looking for them, convinced that she found herself in the city Yamato had described before his disappearance. After a few false starts and dangerous encounters which left her both shaken and wounded, Mimi managed to charm another band of soldiers roaming the surface, who agreed to guide her to meet Their Graces, rulers of The City, as she had an important message from the Forest City thanks to the others passing it along.

Whilst travelling to meet Their Graces, Mimi became aware that Yamato had been apprehend there a few days earlier, and made the obvious assumption that Sora must be with him. Furious that her friends were being mistreated, Mimi immediately disregarded her own injuries, stormed off to meet Their Graces, and demanded they be released.

Chapter 37 ends with Yamato, Gabumon, Sora, and Piyomon being summoned from the dungeons, for reasons neither they nor their captors understand…

[sugarspicesara]

haven’t been around a whole lot lately but I still exist

[mermaidsirennikita]

lol so I am waiting for the fed and my servicer to process my SAVE application which means that briefly my loans registered as past due, and I got a letter from a college I spent one semester at (mind you: not the one I graduated from and spent the vast majority of my undergrad career at) pleading with me to pay because if I don’t, this college will have issues with offering need based aid!!!

mind you… I transferred out of this school because of many factors both related and not related to the school, BUT I did always respect that it was a liberal bastion of progressivism in Florida. Until, very recently, DeSantis essentially gutted it (it is a public college and he can somehow do that) replacing most of the staff with his cronies, hemorrhaging professors because the school is going to become the Liberty University of Florida but worse because Florida

and now y’all…. You little pull yourself up by your bootstraps motherfuckers…. Wanna beg me to cough up money that you haven’t earned lmao……..

I have to laugh

also I don’t want them to be able to offer aid because I genuinely believe that zero college would be better than this college in its current state Dude

[chuluoyi]

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and staying at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chimed in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

[joeloverture]

deadfall | enemy!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog | on palestine

pairing: dad’s enemy!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel miller, rival raiders with your father, is the last person you expect to save you from the group that captured you. he’s also the last person you expect to sleep with. [post outbreak] warnings: (mdni) canon typical violence (stalkers, mentions of death), porn with plot, game or tv joel, reader born before the outbreak, reader has a present/loving father figure (HAH), alternate universe — joel never went to boston, implied age gap but how big is up to you, self indulgent humor, quicksand, explicit smut, reader is a biiiit of a peeping tom, close proximity, only one bed, (brief) accidental somnophilia so dubcon, dry humping, degradation, humiliation, mirror sex, unprotected piv (he’s snipped dw), doggy style, manhandling (he fucks you in a headlock), mild breath play & choking, brief hair pulling (reader has hair!), scratching/biting, brief orgasm denial, hatefuck [no use of y/n] word count: 9.5k author's note: pwplot! a joeloverture first. also my first foray into somno! and post!ob joel! lots of firsts here. special thanks to @joelsdagger for taking a glimpse at this for me (and for being the PIONEER that forged joel fucking in a headlock) and @lovesickonmybed for being the best sounding board ever. i hope y'all like this one, i sure do.

There are no infected in the swamp — not this far out. They prefer the slant of buildings or the maw of split pavement. Blood-bloated leeches and black-trunked cypresses aren’t their domain.

You can’t say you blame them. One day in, and you’re already sick of this shit.

A few gnats have flown up your nostrils as you wade through the ankle-deep sludge. Mist curls at the edges of your vision. Your feet keep slipping on the slime covered stones that are half-submerged in the deep. Sweat crystallizes on your nape as your toe catches on a downed branch.

Before you faceplant in the sludge below, a burly hand snags your collar and hauls you up. “You always this much of a klutz?” It’s the first few words he’s said to you in hours.

A scowl buckles your lips. You shove Joel Miller’s arm off your back, splashing up scummy water as you step over the branch this time. You say nothing — don’t even dignify him with a passing glance.

“You’re a real peach, ain’t ya?” Joel says. When he takes his next step, water splashes at the backs of your calves. “Save your ass and this is the thanks I get.”

Joel Miller doesn’t want thanks. Up until he accidentally burnt his thumb with boiling hot coffee yesterday, you’d been convinced he didn’t feel anything at all. As long as his pulse is woven between bullets and stab wounds, he doesn’t give a damn what happens to those around him. His heart, much like the rest of the people at the end of the world, is calcified. Only beating out of necessity.

You’re silent as you footslog forward. The slurp of mud stretches between your shoe and the ground. Your pack jostles against your back. The ache in your bones has proven to be a better company than Joel – at least that is tolerable.

A deadfall lays flat ahead, a tree with cambered branches that droop with moss. Joel cups a hand over his eyes to block out the sun and squints past.

You go to walk past him, around the deadfall.

“Nuh uh,” Joel tugs you back by the scruff. You grunt. “‘S deeper out there. I’d sure like to see you get swallowed up by a gator, but that doesn’t work for me, kid.”

It sure works for you. If you see one of their bumpy snouts protruding out of the water, you’re using him as bait.

You don’t say that, though. Just hitch your foot up over one of the branches in the tree and start to haul yourself up. It’s a nagging ordeal – full of hissing through your teeth and feeling wood tear small cuts into your skin. Your hand tangles in an unoccupied spiderweb before you toss yourself through the other side of the bramble. Water sluices around you as you right yourself, rubbing a bead of blood from one of your knuckles.

Joel’s quick to follow, even quicker to take front again. You’ve learned he likes being ahead of you — unless you’re climbing a ledge or a fallen oak.

The hours wear on. You refuse to be the first to call it for the day. Even when you get stinging salt water into your open cuts, you grin and bear it. When the sun lounges on the chaise of the tree-sketch horizon, he drops his pack on an island of mulch that’s nestled in a grove of dead vegetation. 

You slump down next to him, rifling through your pack for a bite of jerky. Joel’s knees pop. He grunts as he slips down into the dirt and unrolls his sleeping bag. He rolls over, facing away from you. Hand wrapped around his gun like it’s a lover. 

When you do the same, it’s with a barbed insult on your tongue that’s better left unspoken.

At the end of the world, everything is ruleless. But you grew up with exactly one rule: don’t talk about Joel Miller.

You hadn’t been expecting him to kill you.

The Cockroaches, the lesser raider group in Northeast Texas, had captured you. Apparently your dad had some unpaid debts, and in taking you as leverage, they’d intended to get close to him. All they got were bullets in their heads.

You’d sighed in relief when the hatch to your basement confinement had finally opened. A spillage of sun sliced down through the opening, and you were expecting the familiar warmth of your father, an apology, and reassurance that he wouldn’t let them take you again.

Instead, you got Joel. With his hulking gun, broad figure that blocked out the sun, and the scowl that would be the last thing you’d ever see.

You had fumbled against the post you were tied to, feet scrabbling against the floor. You’d winced away when he raised his knife. “Don’t–”

…And cut into your restraints.

You’d rubbed the chafing from your wrists and stared at him, nebulous and delirious. “Get the fuck away from me,” you’d croaked.

“They touch you?” he’d asked. You’d shaken your head. “Hurt ya?” Another shake.

“Good. Now get up and get ready to haul ass.” He turned around, but not before throwing his knife to the ground next to you. The clatter it made against the concrete made your ears ring.

You grabbed the knife.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask him. They’re the only words you’ve spoken since you’d seen him in the cellar. 

“I ain’t,” he says. His voice is gruff. Sandpapery. 

“Looks like helping,” you say, nodding at the pack he’d given you. He’d come out prepared. To get you.

“Your daddy ain’t the only one with debts,” he says.

You stop, booted feet sinking into the mud. Shit. “So that’s what this is. You take me away just to hand me off to some other shitty group?”

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. He turns around, already mid-stride.

You yank his knife out of your pocket and dive at him.

“Hey, hey, fuck – you little brat,” he spats. He goes off balance before he twists around. You corral him against a tree, leg hitching around his waist as you knee at his thighs, aiming for his crotch. His spittle sprays your cheek as he grunts. His fist wraps around your hand, and the knife splats into the mud. His booted heel slips and he goes sliding back as he shoves you away, hard. You cough as you slam into a tree trunk. The knot that swells out of the bark digs into your head. You drag a branch up off the ground, pushing yourself off the tree as you heft it.

Before you grab it, he slaps you. Hard. Your head goes spinning as you stumble back into the muck. He jams his boot down against your chest, mud smearing across your tank top. “I gotta tie you up, or you gonna fuckin’ listen to me?”

You reach up to grab his ankle, and he just stomps harder against your chest. You wheeze, flopping back in the sludge. “B-bastard,” you hiss.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the hell up. ‘S your dad’s shitty group I’m talkin’ about.”

You give him an incredulous look.

“Your old man ain’t the only one with a coupla debts under his belt.”

“You’re shitting me,” you say. Voice squished in your throat from his tread against your chest.

He shakes his head and finally lets his boot up. You suck in a breath, another cough rattling your ribcage. “Quit being all uppity and pickin’ fights ya can’t win if you wanna learn, dumbass.”

“Why didn’t he just come get me himself?” you grit out as you lean back against a log. You use it to lift yourself, legs feeling gelatinous from being shoved about.

“You didn’t see? Cockroach shot ‘im in the leg.” Your lips tremble, but you straighten them. “He’s fine.”

You scowl. “And you didn’t tell me this sooner?” You march forward. Your arms cross solidly over your chest.

“Figured you wouldn’t take it well.” He looks you up and down. “And I was right.”

You curse under your breath. Dip to grab your knife. Toss it in your hand while you think. You don’t flinch when it slightly nicks your thumb — it’s hardly a poke with all of the scraping you’ve been doing through undergrowth — but Joel smirks. 

He sees you as juvenile. The product of a world that you haven’t earned the right to be in, always cowering behind your dad’s back. 

You’ll prove him wrong.

“How far are we from the nearest city?” you ask. You want to go home. Your arms ache not just from swinging at your side or lifting you up toppled trees, but to wrap around your father. Your bones protest at the thought of being in your skin. Your tank top sticks to your flesh with mud and the parasites that squirm in it.

“I’m not a goddamn fortune teller,” Joel says. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Then we better get moving.” You readjust your pack and jostle him as you march on.

Three days later, and there’s no end in sight to the swamp. Whatever towns you’ve encountered are home to only a derelict gas station and ransacked mom-and-pop stores. They’re no place for pit stops.

You (reluctantly) stay close to Joel, who you’re lucky to hear so much as a murmur out of. Most of the time, he’s redirecting you, tugging you out of the way of half-decade old hunter’s traps or reminding you not to go too far.

“The world isn’t gonna end if I step out of your imaginary line, Joel,” you say. You test your foot on the side of the bank you’re walking on. Nothing happens.

“Ki–” Joel says, brows crunched up.

“See? Fine.” You press more of your weight into the ground. He reaches for you, but your body tilts.

Your foot is sinking.

“You’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass,” Joel says. He pinches his nose bridge. “Shoulda left ya down there.”

You glare at him, bending yourself at the waist so you can try to wiggle yourself with your upper body strength. Your free knee is propped up on the squishy ground. You grunt, palms slipping against the oily, grass-filled mud. “I got it,” you rasp out as he crouches in front of you.

“Uh huh,” he says, frowning pointedly.

“I got it.” You slap his hand away and thresh your leg in the sand. It barely even wiggles. “Fuck.” You strain your leg, huffing and puffing. Dirt fixes itself under your nails.

Joel wraps his arms under your shoulders and you flail in protest. “I said I can handle it!” Instead of listening to you, he tugs at you like pulling a toy from a dog. You keep windmilling your arms.

“Quit thrashin’!” Joel yells. “Any harder and you’re gonna drag me in with you.”

Your face is too close to his. Too close for the uncomfortable heat. His humid breath fans against your sweat-slippery cheek as he groans. Your foot loosens. You prop your calf up on his thigh as he wrests you out of the quicksand. You’re chest-to-chest with him as you tip over the muck, dropping flat against him. “Mmph.”

Joel shoves you off of him, and you fall on your ass in the mud. By all odds, your boot has remained strapped to your foot. He’s already up and moving when he says, “Jesus Christ, you are just like your fuckin’ dad.”

The mud still caked into your shirt has started to flake by the time you reach a city called Monroe. Just off of I-20, you and Joel trek further into what you imagine must’ve been a medium-sized city during its heyday.

You’re bone-weary. Your back keeps popping with every step with how you keep having to sleep on the ground. You’d be thankful for even a mattress of moss — but luckily, you won’t have to settle. Sunset is nearing, which means you can see the blue water (imagine that, blue water) tainted pink and orange below. Houses and the city clocktower reflect into the gentle pull and ebb of the tide.

Joel nods at a half-bent blue roadway sign. “YMCA up ahead,” he says. He wipes the sweat off his brow and clutches his gun closer to his side. “Stay close.”

You keep your hand around the grip of your knife, following him into the city.

It’s quiet as you navigate through a labyrinth of abandoned, rust-gutted cars. At one point, you manage to slip ahead of him, and he allows it for long enough (fifteen seconds) that you opt to take a shortcut through a parking garage. You climb over the edge and dip inside, feet scraping over roots that have grown between concrete slabs. The shade is a brief respite from the scorching sun, but the humidity still wrings the sweat from your pores.

Joel slips ahead of you again, taking long, dragging strides that look as exhausted as you feel. Four days of hiking through swamp and gunk and slapping mosquitoes against your skin has made you grateful to just be walking on solid ground again. Joel steps past a busted, sticker-covered van.

A streak flickers against the dark canopy of the garage. “Infected!” you shout, but Joel falls back on his ass.

His gun flies out of his hand and skids across the concrete. He grunts, shuffling backward, but the stalker’s already on him, its mouth sewn partially shut by fungi. It croaks and slashes at him, blind left eye battering and twitching. Joel throws a hooked punch, but the stalker takes the opportunity to grapple him, snarling in his face.

He’s going to get bit.

You launch forward, knife in-hand. You fling yourself into a tumble with the stalker, legs strewn over Joel’s. Adrenaline plummets through your body. You stomp on its shin and it shrieks. The knife almost slips from your grip as you start to stab blindly. You thrust the blade up through its eye socket.

The thing cackles and caws, its vocal chords clacking with mold and rot. Rusted blood trickles from its nose and down your wrist as you twist the blade further until you meet bone and then whatever is left of a brain is beyond it. You cringe as you drag the knife out and wipe it across your pants. It slumps back in a mound and then falls over.

Your chest heaves as you look between Joel and the stalker. His hands are scraped up as he grabs his gun.

You extend him a hand. He seems to think about it for a second before latching onto you and letting you help him up. He grunts in acknowledgment. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

This YMCA in particular isn’t like the others you’ve stopped at with your dad. Instead of glass windows and tin roofs, it’s brick and mortar. You and Joel climb in through the window, and you almost sob in relief when you see at least a dozen oversized yoga mats. That’s a suitable homemade mattress, you think. 

There’s a basketball court whose court has been warped and fossilized by the leaks in the roof. A peek of sunset dives in through a hole, lighting up the western side of the room. You expect the pool room to still smell of chlorine. It’s a little weird when it doesn’t even though the pool’s been drained for years, you imagine. From there, you two reach the showers.

Before you let yourself get excited, Joel fiddles with the knobs. Water sprays out of it. “Still hot,” he says, absorbed in the droplets that are spraying his hand. He turns it off.

“Fuck it,” you say, tearing your tank top over your head.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Joel says, turning to face the wall.

“You aren’t the one who’s covered in mud!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I ain’t the one who went jumpin’ into quicksand. I also ain’t the one who deserved an ass whooping.”

You glare at his shoulder blades as you unzip your jeans, fumbling out of them. They’re nearly crunchy with the amount of mud you’ve been traipsing through. “They did charity drives at these things, right?” You never really went to any YMCAs before the world went to shit. “Maybe they’ve got clean clothes.”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Maybe you shoulda thought about that before you turned this place into a strip club.” You roll your eyes and hook your bra on the shower curtain, followed by your panties.

“I didn’t know you were a prude, Miller,” you say.

He bristles at the accusation. “Maybe I should get an eyeful. Being ‘round you is like wishin’ the Lord would strike me down.”

You laugh. Joel made you laugh. First (and only) time, probably. 

“Yeah, right, you’d get struck down for something a whole lot worse before he started getting mad at you for peeping.”

You fiddle with the shower curtain and step in. There’s old body wash in an automatic dispenser on the wall. It doesn’t work, but it’s easy to wrangle open and squeeze the pouch into your hand. The grout is odd under your bare feet, but quickly becomes familiar as you twist the lever. Water spits down at you, and a satisfied sound leaves you. “Fuuuck,” you sigh. “This is nice.”

Joel clears his throat. “I’m gonna go look for clothes. And deodorant.”

“You should shower too,” you say instead.

You can almost hear the face he makes.

“God, don’t be so much of a Holy Joe, Joel. It’s practical. This water isn’t going to last that damn long, and I am not taking a cold shower when the hot stuff is all right here.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” he says like he hasn’t already told you.

Eventually, you hear his belt unbuckle.

He strips down a lot quicker than you. Habit, maybe, you think. His jeans slump against the floor, and then he’s in the shower. You hear the other faucet come on as the water warms against your skin. You sigh, lathering yourself with the Dollar General body wash. It forms iridescent bubbles along your body, and it smells faintly like artificial strawberries. You wonder if it ever used to smell stronger than this.

There’s a slit in Joel’s shower that exists between the curtain and the wall. You should look away, but you shouldn’t have plunged your foot into quicksand, either. There’s many things you shouldn’t do that you take it upon yourself to do anyway.

So you watch the dirty water cascade down his sharp, scarred shoulder. You eye how the gnarl of his bone adjusts as he lathers himself with soapsuds. He stretches to get his hair and his bicep tenses with the movement. He’s built, and built well. From years of survival, trekking through swamps not so different from these, and aiming guns in places he wanted to and places he didn’t. The way the sun flits through the rectangular windows makes him look golden.

You imagine how it’d feel to walk up behind him, to massage the knots out of his sore muscles. You don’t even notice it, but your hands are traveling your own body now, fingertips going to pluck at your pebbled nipples. He’d been rough when tussling with you in the swamp. Would he be rough with you in bed, too? In your mind, you run soft, open-mouthed kisses down his back, reaching your hand between his legs to wrap around his—

A clanging noise stops your hand in its tracks. You drop it limp at your side. A wave of revulsion crawls like insects up your back.

“Shit!” Joel says, fumbling around in his shower stall.

The plastic body wash dispenser goes sliding out under the curtain, foamy with soapsuds.

You can’t help it. You snort. And eventually, your snort becomes full-fledged laughter, breaking the seam of your lips as you lean against the wall of the shower.

“Shut up,” he says, but you hear the tinge of a chuckle embedded between his vowels. You hear his half-huff of laughter before you force yourself to stop giggling.

You two stay under the shower streams until the water runs cold and bitter and all of the mud that had banded around your limbs is congealed in the drain. 

You leave the showers first, roaming around until you find a discarded cardboard box that’s brimming with clothes in your size. There’s jeans that should do well in the elements and another tank top suited for the crushing heat. 

When you’re dressed, you call out to Joel that you’ll be in the yoga room. You spend the down time arranging the yoga mats into two separate mattresses. Joel’s feet will hang off a bit, but you imagine it’ll be better than sleeping on the floor.

Footsteps scrape from the doorway, and your head snaps up.

Joel Miller cleans up nice, it seems. He’s kept his boots, but apart from that, looks like a completely different person; his jeans now hug his hips tighter, his raggedy tee from earlier has been replaced with a form-fitting ribbed tank top. Any traces of mud, sweat, or gunk have been washed off his skin and down the drain. His hair hangs in wet stripes, sticking to his crinkled forehead.

You haven’t realized you’ve zone out until he’s waving a calloused hand in front of your face. “Hey, peach, anyone home?”

You clear your throat and replace it with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” It’s deflection, and you know it. You think he knows it, too.

He gives you a funny look. “Uh huh,” he says. He taps his fingers along his hip bone. “Well, what the fuck are ya doin’?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Setting up camp…?”

“This is a shit camp to set up,” he says. “Stalkers in the parking garage, city I ain’t ever been in before? No, we need a vantage point.”

“And I assume you have one in mind?” you ask.

“Yeah, I do. ‘S a hotel, ‘lil further into town. Got three floors, we probably can block the stairwell from the inside to keep any raiders out.”

You nod and heft your backpack over your shoulder. It’s bulging from the extra clothes you’d stuffed into the bottom, and your arms are sore from the wrangling you’d given it after the collar of one of your new shirts jammed the zipper. 

Joel turns to stand guard at the door while you collect your stuff. You can’t seem to focus much on that, though, not with his ass practically at your eye level. The tighter denim definitely does him favors. You swallow the newfound lump in your throat and stuff your water flash into the side of your pack.

It has to be the lack of human connection. It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen anyone other than your captors, and the majority of this week since you’ve seen anyone other than Joel. Joel, who with every word, breath, movement, flinch, gets a rise out of you. Joel, who stirs the pot with you at every chance he gets. Joel, who almost certainly looks at you and sees a reflection of your father whom he hates.

He’d said so, early on.

This isn’t only one-sided. It’s a living, breathing disaster.

“‘S a hotel’ my ass, Joel, this place looks like a loaf of moldy bread.”

Joel insists on staying on the third floor. Says that the second floor is ‘too low’ and that being on the third floor poses a good choke point for any raiders or infected who might stumble upon your camp. He wants to ��bottleneck’ any intruders, whatever the fuck that means.

The issue with the third floor? There’s mold. Everywhere. In the days after the outbreak, a leak must’ve happened somewhere in the pipes that bled through the ceiling and all over the top floor. None of the rooms you’ve checked have been left unscathed so far. It’s embedded into the rugs, the walls, the ceiling, all of it. At least it’s a good deterrent for the people that pass through. The infected, however? You have a feeling they’d be just at home.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he says through his teeth. He pinches his nose bridge – he does that a lot, or maybe you just stress him out a lot – and glares at you.

“No, Joel. I’m fucking exhausted,” you hiss. “I’ve been roughing it with you all week, all you do is give me shit. The only thing this voyage of ours has taught me is that my dad has perfectly ample reason to hate your guts.” You’re closer to him now, knocking him back with your fist to your chest.

“Quit bein’ cute,” he scowls. “I’m the only reason your ass isn’t eyeball-deep in quicksand.”

“Yeah, and you’d be stalker food without me. So I guess we’re even, aren’t we, Joel?” You shove past him. “I’m just a way for you to pay off your stupid ‘debts’ anyway,” you mutter under your breath. He wasn’t protecting you, pulling you out of that damn pit. He was saving his own skin.

The hotel room door at the end of the hallway is slightly ajar. You lift your knife just in case, and step inside. 

It’s lacking the mold that the rest of the rooms have. People have definitely stayed in here before, what with the rumpled blankets left on the bed and a flashlight situated upright on the dresser. The thick layer of dust on the flashlight tells you that they never came back.

The room itself is satisfactory enough. Beige, almost green walls, close in at all sides. A cloudy mirror is hung by the window. Moonlight stipples the room. There’s a busted, corded phone on the nightstand that’s propped up on a Bible, a shattered nightlight, and a small table. You toss your pack onto the quilted bedspread and collapse onto the mattress. For an old, creaking thing with a busted spring or two, it’s still the most comfortable thing you think you’ve ever felt in your life. You sigh in relief and nuzzle into the pillow.

Joel clears his throat from the doorway.

“Find your own room, dipshit,” you say, nudging your pack off your bed with your knee. It thunks against the floor.

“I don’t think so.” He crosses his arms.

“I’m not sharing with you. You snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do.”

You don’t have to look up to know he’s doing that thing where he pinches his nose bridge again. “You’re a fuckin’ piece ‘a work, kid, you know that?” You hear his pack drop against the ground. He drags a chair across the room and you cringe at how it squeals against the floor until he jams it under the doorknob. Then, the mattress dips.

You look at him sideways. “Get off my bed.”

“‘Your’ bed? You just discovered it two seconds ago.”

“Finders keepers.”

“Well I’m takin’ it from you. Losers weepers.”

You grit your teeth so hard you hear the bone scraping bone in your ears. 

“That’s now how this works–”

“We’re even now. You don’t wanna owe me one, and I sure as hell don’t wanna owe you one. So roll your ass over, act like an adult, and go to bed.”

You grouse under your breath, but with Joel, you have to pick and choose your battles. So you roll back over and wiggle yourself under the quilt, tucking your face into the musty pillow underneath you.

You sit in silence for a couple of minutes, staring at how the moon spills milky light along the alabaster ceiling. Then, you roll over again, stretching out the knicks in your back. Despite being the comfiest you’ve been in days, you’re feeling restless. You know Joel wouldn’t hurt you in any substantial way – you’re a bargaining chip to him. Nothing less, and certainly not anything more.

In spite of that, you find yourself drifting off with your face to him.

When Joel first wakes up, he thinks a clicker’s gnawing at his leg

Blinking the crust from his eyes, he realizes nothing’s gnawing on him at all. 

Rather, it’s you.

In your sleep, you’ve thrown your leg over his thigh. Your crotch is angled up against the bulk of his leg, a furnace that sears him through his jeans. Your head has dipped, forehead overheated and angled against the crux of his neck. If it were just that, he’d roll you over (maybe hard enough for you to crash on the floor) and hog the blankets for himself.

But you’re thrusting your fucking hips into him, letting out sleepy little whimpers while you fuck yourself on his leg. That explains why you’ve been acting dumber than a box of rocks. He oughta tan your hide for this. Bitching at him all week and really, you just need to get dicked down. Ironic, ain’t it.

He should still shove you off the bed. Call you a whore and leave you to rub your pussy raw in the bathroom instead of on his leg.

You give a particularly hard thrust, a keening little sound catching in the netting of your teeth. He swears you’re soaking through the denim.

He bites his tongue. The moonlight accentuates your closed eyes, your lashes fan out across your cheeks, there’s a cute little pinch in your lips as you unwittingly try to muffle the sounds coming out of you.

He can’t help himself. He raises his knuckles to your cheek and taps, taps, taps at the bone until your eyes startle open.

When you first wake up, you think you’re dying.

There’s a shortness of breath in your lungs. You feel like you’re being burned alive, your skin hot to the touch. You’re mummified in the crusty, flaky hotel sheets. Each intake of breath is musty and clings to your nostrils. You’re throbbing. Between the legs and elsewhere. Confusion puckers your brows. There’s slick between your legs — and Joel’s leg between your legs.

You tear away from him, making a disgruntled noise as the sheets tangle around your legs. His hand is raised to your face. There’s a moment where all you register is the judgmental squint in his dark eyes.

“What the fuck– you pervert,” you hiss, slapping him across the chest. A queasiness squiggles in your stomach as you inch your way back.

“Oh, no, peach. That was all you,” he drawls. He wraps his thick hand around your hipbone and pulls you back. You kick him in the shin, but there’s no real force behind it.

“Y-you’re lying,” you snarl. But a brief look at his lap tells you he’s not. He’s barely touting a semi, yet you’ve got the entire Mississippi River in your YMCA-issued panties.

Joel shakes his head at you. “‘S why you been actin’ up, you little shit? Just needed to get fucked?” He grips your hip so hard that it stings and hauls you against him. You tell yourself that the moan you let out is more of a hiss.

“I don’t– you’re making shit up, old man,” you say, squirming in his grip. You can’t help the way your hips sway at the tease of friction his knee gives you. You feel lightheaded, a freshly kindled bonfire.

“Am I?” Another squeeze to your hip. “Don’t look like it.” He notches his knee tighter against your swollen cunt, and your head dips forward as you bite into your lower lip. “Look’s like I’ve got a ‘lil slut more worked up than a hornets’ nest that spent all night rubbing her needy fuckin’ pussy on my leg.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine.

“Jus’ say the word, peach. I’ll do ya real good. Make that ache go away.” He rubs his thumb in a circle along your skin. The calloused pad of his thumb slips underneath the hem of your tank top, a lit match dragging along your skin.

“I don’t think you have it in you, Miller,” you say. But your voice gives you away. It’s breathy, coarsened by your sleep-stained, lust-stained rasp.

“Yeah? Well I didn’t think you had it in you to be humpin’ this ‘old man’s’ leg, but ya learn something new everyday.” He doesn’t grind his knee into your cunt — more so wedges it up. Pain blurs a watercolor line with pleasure as your back arches. His hand drifts from your midriff to your thigh, arm hooking around it so he can heft you up against his thigh proper. You grunt as you end up chest to chest with him. Your hips rock into his, guided by the North Star of his hands clutching at your hips. “Can feel ya,” he says. “Drippin’ all over me.”

You grind your teeth, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He groans as your nails claw at the skin there. “Shut the fuck up so I can pretend you’re someone else.”

He chuckles. “You can play pretend all you want, but I’m the one you’re soaking, ain’t I?”

You make an aggravated sound. Your left hand drags down his arm, leaving angry red tracks in their wake. Before he can gripe about it, you slap your right hand over his mouth. His eyes flare. Eye for an eye, his teeth sink into the flesh of your palm. You hiss at the sting. It only makes you pump your hips against him faster. The friction of your shorts and panties against the bulk of his leg and the wrinkle of his denim jeans makes your clit twitch against him.

Your flesh stretches as you tug it from his teeth. Your hand plants itself in his hair instead, dragging his head to the side. His eyes flutter, lidded and dark. “Don’t act like you don’t damn near cream yourself when I talk to you like this. You like being told what a nasty. Fuckin’. Slut. You are. Don’t look at me like that. You are. Been cruisin’ for a bruisin’ this whole time — just didn’t know you were after a pussy beating instead of a real one.”

Your eyes roll back. Your hips roll more languidly, only jerking when Joel gives a particularly brutal tug at your waist. You let out a pathetic moan into his neck. You nip at the skin there, tongue laving over the scars and blemishes he’s collected over the years. He reaches down and grabs a handful of your ass, groaning. “Too pretty to be actin’ a fool, baby.”

You dig your teeth into his neck, hard enough to leave cavernous bite marks in your wake. Your tongue digs through the craters your teeth left behind, saliva pulling from your lips to his skin. He smacks your ass hard enough for your hips to jerk, and you almost glare at him as you separate from your throat. Instead, your eyes squeeze shut.

“Don’t wanna look at me, do ya peach? Mmmm, well thas’ okay.” He fists his hand in the roots of your hair and tugs your head to the side. You hear Joel groping at the nightstand in the dark, and then the flashlight ticks on.

Your eyes blink open to yourself reflected in desilvered glass. Mirror rot surrounds your luminescent face, but most of all, you can see your hips and how they rock shallowly into Joel’s leg. “Watch yourself fuckin’ yourself stupid on my leg,” he croons in your ear. When you go still, his thumbs press hard into your skin. You stare at him. “You already fucked yourself stupid or somethin’? ‘S a simple instruction, sweet cheeks.”

“That’s dumb, Joel–” you sneer, going to look away.

He jerks your head back to where he had it and rocks his leg into your clit. You watch your face contort around a ragged moan. Pleasure thrashes through your system. “C’mon, you’re a dirty girl. Watch how pathetic you look while you get yourself off. Pretend I’m your pillow if you have to, but it ain’t gonna change how I’m the one gettin’ you off like this.”

Your thighs clamp around his. He smirks at you in the mirror. Your knee grazes his bulge, and a breathy moan loosens from his lips. “Two way street, Miller,” you say. But you’re weak — and so, so wet.

You give your hips a languid roll, watching yourself in the mirror. You’re a mess, mouth parted, eyes lidded, skin slick with sweat. Your hips shudder and start against him as you start to properly buck yourself against the meat of his thigh. With the shelves of your teeth, you try to smother the depraved noises coming out of you. Joel rolls his eyes.

“Gonna wake the fuckin’ dead with all that whining of yours.” Mid-moan, Joel shoves two fingers into your mouth and pries your jaw open. His fingers are bulky and ridged with callouses against your tongue. His thumb presses a dent into your jaw. “‘S okay, baby. I like ‘em loud.”

“I like you shutting the fuck up,” you say around a mouthful of his knuckles. You can’t help it. You bite at his fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to sting. He hisses and presses down on your tongue. You make a sputtering noise.

“You were sayin’?” he asks, tensing his thigh. You whimper against his fingertips. He tightens his grip on your hair, and in the mirror, you see yourself bared raw for him to see in all ways but the physical. You rut into his leg with increasing need.

“Mmmph, Joel–” you say around his fingers. 

“Oh, now you’re moaning my name? What was it I said? Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, peach.”

Wetness leaks down the insides of your thighs. Your swollen clit hitches on a wrinkle in his jeans. You’re shaking, thighs trembling where they’re wrapped around him. Your fingers grapple for purchase and find some anchored in his hair, tugging wildly. You eye yourself in that damn mirror, the way your chest is slotted against his, how your hips pitch into his over and over again in your pursuit of release.

“Ask for it, baby.” Joel grinds his leg up into your cunt. “You wanna come on me, you gotta ask for it.”

You shake your head wildly. You aren’t a beggar — especially not for Joel Miller. You’d rather throw yourself back into quicksand. Jump in front of a clicker. Step on an alligator.

Joel pouts mockingly at you. “Stubborn for a slut who’s willin’ to spread it open all hours ‘a the day.” You rub your knee into his bulge, tenting his jeans, in hopes that it’ll be a suitable distraction. He groans, knee jerking. His thigh rams against you, and your back arches. You see your brows pucker in your reflection, your hips undulating against him.

“F-fuck,” you whine out, bouncing against him.

“You wanna come, don’t you, peach?” You nod frantically. “Wanna soak me, huh?” At that, you grit your teeth and snarl at him. You do you do you do. But you don’t want to admit it.

You squirm on his leg, desperately rocking into him. You dig your feet into the creaking mattress, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt. Tremors wrack your body as you work yourself on him. Your cunt flutters, and you almost taste your orgasm.

Joel tosses you off of him.

“You son of a–” you shriek, thrashing and out of breath. Your clit throbs and your hole twitches at the stolen promise of release. You bounce on the mattress, sprawled on your back and twitching.

“I told ya,” he says. “Gotta ask for it.”

“I’m not asking you for shit, asshole–”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll change your tune when I stuff your right full.” He grabs you by the back of your shirt and coaxes you into spinning around. He yanks you onto all fours, forehead meeting the mattress.

You back your hips up as he reaches around your shorts for the button. The zipper squeals as it comes down and he shuffles them down your legs. He nudges your knees apart. You can feel his bulge, insistent and pressed against the back of your thigh. He grips the inside of your thigh, fingers sliding through the slick that’s there.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “No wonder you were humpin’ me. Just needing someone to take away that ache, don’t you? Jus’ a horny girl wanting to go cock dumb.” His fingers graze over your clit, barely even a brush, and you let out a mangled sound into the comforter. “See? So desperate and sensitive. You’re cute when you’re not a pain in the ass.”

“That makes one of us,” you say.

Joel snorts. “She’s got jokes.” He rubs a circle into your clit, and then another, and all you can do is rock your hips into his hand. Impatient, you brace yourself on your elbow so you can reach behind him and fumble with his belt buckle. Joel laughs under his breath, working at the zipper while you undo the buckle. It chimes as his belt falls loose and his pants slump on his hips. You work the button open. 

You wriggle your hand into his briefs and pull him out, giving him a series of quick pumps. Joel grunts. “Just like that, peach. Fuck, yeah, you know what you’re doin’.”

He teases the tips of his fingers at your entrance. Razor sharp want slices up the insides of your warm thighs as you clench and drip more of your wetness along his hand. “I’ll throw you a bone,” Joel says. Then, with no warning, he slips a finger into your warmth and curls it just right. You claw against the sheets, whimpering.

“Nasty thing.” He hooks his finger and you fully mewl. Heat rushes into your cheeks. “Barely gotta do anythin’ to get you writhing and wanting.”

Warm tears brim at your eyes from the heady, deadly mix of arousal and hatred. Your cunt tightens around his finger, and without warning, he pushes another one in, twisting and hooking them brutally inside of you.

Your fingers fist in the sheets, temple pressed into the mattress. You can see the cocksure look on his face in the mirror, the way his forearm flexes with each thrust into you. “Fuck me already,” you spit. You know it’ll hurt if he fucks you without really preparing you. You want it to hurt. You want it to ache like the tread of his boot stamped on your chest. You want it to sting and simmer like the cuts that the wetlands left in a collage across your arms and legs. You want him to split you open and leave you flayed by your own pleasure.

“Alright, alright,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. He gives your clit a light slap that makes you squeal. You almost black out when you see him bring his slick-stained fingers to his mouth and suck. “Yeah, taste as sweet as a peach, dontcha sugar? Such a tasty little cunt for such a smart-mouthed brat.”

You could cry with how bad you want hi— no, his cock. 

“Gonna hurt, baby. But you want it to, don’t you? Wanna feel me all up in here.” He roams his free hand across your stomach, then back around to your ass where he tugs you back. There’s the smack of flesh as your hips meet each other, the whimper between your netted teeth as he nestles his cock between your slippery folds. You nod, head slinging forward. “Don’t gotta tell me. I know ya do. Girl like you, always such a smartass. Yeah, you want it rough.” His voice is gruff, lust-addled. “Act stupid all you want, peach. I got you all figured out.”

He slots his head against your hole and you let out a strangled noise into the mattress. Your vision swims as he pushes into you, thumbs dug into your ass cheeks so he can watch how you take him. You mewl, back arching into and away from him at the same time. Your body can’t decide where to go. If it wants to be further, or as close as possible to him. Joal groans as he sinks into you.

“Tight as a fuckin’ hose pipe, peach,” he says. He reaches around to give your flick your clit — a move that makes your entire body spasm. 

“So about as small as your dick, then?” It’s bullshit — you know it, and he knows it. He’s not even fully inside of you, but the difference is startling. He’s stuffing you to the brim, leaving you to scrabble and claw against the sheets.

He slams into you, a blatant disregard of your comfort. You feel his balls smack against your clit, and hear the same thigh you’d been humping slot against your own. A ragged cry rips from your throat. “Joel,” you whimper, hips trying to writhe against the bed. “Joel, fuck—”

��Feels pretty big now, don’t it?” You whine, petulant, but it breaks off into a moan as he pulls back and then punches back into you.

All you can do is take it, take it, take it as he bashes your swollen cunt with his fat cock. You gasp raggedly, each snap of his hip bringing pleasure-pain tears to your eyes. Joel’s nails dig into the meat of your ass and yank you back on him. The sting is renewed, then, as he props his leg up on the bed and pounds into you. You whimper, helpless to his whims.

Between one thrust and the next, the bite in your cunt turns into a thrum of pleasure. A persistent swarm of heat and your own slick leaking down his cock. “Like I said,” Joel grunts as he fucks you. “A nasty fuckin’ slut with a sloppy ‘lil cunt.”

You whine, squeezing around him. Your head spins. “Fuck,” he spits.

“Joel, please, please, ple–”

“Quit beggin’, it ain’t ladylike.” You prop yourself up on your elbow and reach behind him, tugging his wrist away from your ass so you can slip his hand between your thighs. His pistoning into you falters. “What’d I say?” Joel grunts. His knees adjust over the backs of your calves to hold you down.

“Keep touching me,” you whine. “Please, you asked me to ask for it, so I’m fucking asking for it.”

“Told you to ask permission, not cry at me like a kicked puppy,” he says. “I call the shots here. Like it or not.” He goes to yank his hand away from your clit, but you yank at his knuckle.

Joel scowls, and so fast you might get vertigo, his other arm’s bicep locks around your neck and heaves you back against his chest. You sputter, drool pooling in your mouth. Your hands briefly tug at his arm, but fall limp when he says, “Oh, shut the fuck up, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Gotta keep you on your toes, peach.”

You arguably shouldn’t. But you trust him. Enough to keep you alive, at least.

With another thrust into the warm vise of your cunt, your body’s running hotter than an engine and twice as fast. He squeezes tight enough that your air is in short supply, and with it, everything is amplified. Pleasure crinkles through your body like crumpled aluminum foil, serrated and clinging to you. The crook of his elbow is warm, and you can’t help your head lolling back to give him a look that’s purely salacious. He tips his head down at you and smirks.

“Yeah, that’s my hungry little cockwhore,” he says. With his free hand, he tugs your hair. You seize around him, struggling for what to hang onto. You let out a rasping, strangled moan. With your head tipped back, you can see the tilt to his lips as he moans, feel his scruff scraping at your forehead. “Takin’ it like you were made for it. Shit.”

Joel moans as you clamp down around him again.

Tears might be sliding down your cheeks – you don’t know. You’re too trapped in this, in this moment, in the feeling of his cock slamming into your throbbing, aching cunt. “Mmph,” you whine low in your throat as he fucks up into you. He’s damn near bruising your cervix. Each thrust makes your cunt flitter around him. 

“You look good like this,” Joel grunts against your ear, using the leverage of his propped-up leg to bounce you on his cock. “All quiet ‘n sweet ‘n whorish. Goddamn, never thought a slut could feel this fuckin’ tight.”

Your eyes slip shut, vision spotting behind your eyelids. He keeps forcing himself into you. Making room. Making a mark that you’ll never forget he carved into you.

Your body is limp as he gets himself off, his hand moving from your hair. He gropes at your tits, flicking your nipple in a way that draws a sloping moan out of you. He slides it down your side, each callous bumping against your skin until he reaches your clit. You nod wildly, and he chuckles into the shell of your ear. “You think you’ve earned it? All you’ve been doing is whinin’ like a little bitch, baby.” He taps his fingers against your clit, once, twice, mounting the tautness of the tension drawn tight like elastic through your body. You gasp down air as he ever so slightly loosens his grip around your neck. He keeps thrusting into you, jerking tiny moans out of you as he does.

Your legs tremble. Your brain feels like mush. You wring his cock with each strain of your pussy. “I don’t want you,” you gasp out between thrusts. “I want you for what you can — fuck — give me. So I guess… that makes… us even. Doesn’t it?” Joel’s finger stills where it hovers over your clit, and you almost don’t notice the falter in his hips with how subtle it is.

“Yeah,” Joel pants. “Guess it does, peach.”

He presses his thumb down on your clit and the whole world makes sense.

You cry out as your juices soak his cock, dripping down his balls and thighs. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant in between moans. He’s holding you up now by the underside of one of your arms, his fingers toying with your nipples. Each touch sends laser hot electricity between your legs.

He slams up into you again and you shriek. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” Joel says. “All stuffed full ‘a me… yeah, that’s how you’re s’posed to be. Sprayin’ your pussy juices all over me while I ram my cock into this drippy little hole.”

You whine, clit twitching against his finger. Tears burn at the edges of your eyes like fire on parchment. “I wanna come,” you whisper, voice tinged with need. “Please, Joel. I–”

“Who do you want to make you come?” he asks as he rolls his hips up into you. An undulating pace that makes you want to scream.

The curdling pleasure in your stomach brims, stews, steeps. You’re drowning in it, in the fire lashing through your body. Fire that he lit and stoked and now, only he can put out. “You, Joel!” you cry out. “You! I want you to make me come, please, I need it, I want t-”

“I got you, peach,” he says. He mashes the pad of his thumb against your swollen nub, rubbing circles, circles, circles. You scream this time, head slumping against him. “Throbbin’ for it,” he growls out. “All swollen and whinin’ like you’re in heat. You needed this. Needed me.”

“I needed you,” you nod, exhaling. You think you’d agree to anything he said right now. “Fuck,” you wail. Your hands anchor themselves on his forearm.

“Don’t fight it, baby, don’t fight it,” he coos. Your nails scratch angry red tracks down his burly arms. “Come on me, see if it gives you an attitude adjustment.”

To your chagrin, that does it.

Your orgasm shatters you. You’re fragile as it tears through your body, tying knots around your racing heart and making your legs quiver. You feel yourself gush around Joel’s cock, gasping for air as your lungs empty. Your cunt flutters around him as pleasured tears spill from the corners of your eyes. Everything’s hot and melting, your arousal dripping out of you in droves. Joel rubs at your clit through it, coaxing in your ear, “That’s it, theeeeere it is. Shit, baby, I’m comin’— squeezin’ me so damn good—”

Joel twitches inside of you, and you whine at his absence when he pulls out just in time. With a throaty, reverberating groan, he sprays the small of your back with his cum. You gasp as it splashes against you, your chest heaving against his hand. 

You sit in the silence, high off of the come down, panting in delirium. 

Joel clears his throat. “You alright, peach?”

“You don’t have to pretend to like me now that we’ve had sex, Joel,” you say. “I get it. We fucked. We got it out of our systems. Hooray. Do you want me to pop some confetti poppers?”

“I was being courteous, goddamn,” he grunts as he stands up. You watch as he tugs his jeans back up. “Clearly ain’t nobody ever treated you gentlemanly before.”

“Says the man who got off on choking me out.”

He shoots back, “The feeling was mutual, if I remember five minutes ago correctly. I ain’t that old.” He buckles his belt up. As he redresses, you toss your own shorts off to the side. He’s already been in your whole pussy — you’d rather not sleep in the denim shorts.

When you’re done, you give him a look.

He pinches his nose bridge and sighs through his teeth. “We oughta hit the hay. Long day ahead. And you should be too exhausted by now to be wakin’ me up again.”

You clench your fists at your side. “Fine.”

You reach for his flashlight and turn it off.

Reunion Tower is the first building you see.

Dallas. Home sweet home, for better or worse.

The skyline slowly eases up and out of the treeline as you and Joel meander up the car-cluttered I-20. Remnants from a life that’s long gone, all but skeletons with the organs of another time.

You and Joel have scarcely talked. Mostly, it’s just him pointing out directions. But he does other things. He helps you through wreckage or rubble instead of leaving you to muscle through on your own. He gives you part of his rations. He tosses you a magazine he finds in a store. He keeps watch.

You had meant what you said. You fucked. That was that. He was still the man your father told ghost stories about. The thoughtless killer. The unforgiving bullet to a skull. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of peoples’ deliverance to the afterlife. The man who’d betrayed your father all those years ago, a story of which you only know the vague specifics of.

Maybe you’ll ask him while he’s on bedrest from that bullet wound. (Or maybe you’ll just ask him. He’s not the sort of man to stay down for long.)

Regardless, as you two cross the exit a couple blocks from your dad’s base, you ask him, “Do you think he sent people after me?”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Probably went up to Oklahoma instead. Louisiana ain’t famous for bein’ easy hikin’ material. Shocker that them Cockroaches brought you all the way out there.”

You nod and kick a rock with the toe of your shoe. “You think your group’s doing good on their own?”

“Who fuckin’ knows,” Joel says. “Left Tommy in charge of the place, I’ll be lucky if it ain’t burned down by now.”

“Well, you’ve got a whole new world ahead of you. Free of debts and all. Maybe my dad will finally get off your ass. Could skip town, if you wanted.”

Joel’s feet drag on the concrete. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he scratches the back of his neck. “There were never any debts, peach,” he says.

Your brows furrow as you stop in your tracks. “The fuck do y—”

“Got you of my own volition,” he says. “Your dad and I might be on shit terms, but that don’t mean I don’t care about him. I…” He pauses. “I know what it’s like to lose people.”

“Everyone does,” you say.

“Yeah,” Joel nods. He turns to make eye contact with you. “Everyone does. But I don’t exactly wanna go about losin’ you,” he says.

“That’s a bold claim, Miller,” you say.

“You’re good company. Even if you’re a shitass.” He pats you on the shoulder. His hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he gives it a squeeze before letting it drop. “Now c’mon. Let’s get you home.”

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[fastandcarlos]

Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: follow along as you and lance slowly reveal your relationship to the world, and your ever so slightly protective brother charles

pairing: lance x leclerc!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 139,503 others

ynusername: nice way to spend the end of race week ☺️☀️

7,301 comments

username1: wtf yn you can’t just suddenly spring something like this on us 🤯

charles_leclerc: excuse me what happened to heading back to the hotel early to sleep??

username2: hahah not charles having no idea about this 😂

username3: I just wanna know who this guy is…

arthur_leclerc: you’ve gotta lot of explaining to do 🙄

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc have to catch me first 🤷🏻‍♀️

arthur_leclerc: @/ynusername why have you suddenly turned into a sassy devil??

username4: time to put my investigative skills to use 🔍

carlossainz55: thank you for making your brother freak out, just what I needed on the plane home!!

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 pls remind him how many times he’s surprised me with a new girlfriend over the past few years 😂

username5: it must be someone who was also at the race, but that’s thousands of people 😭

alexandrasaintmleux: ignore your brothers…I want to hear everything 😂

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux knew I could count on you 😘

charles_leclerc: @/alexandrasaintmleux um no you’re supposed to be on my side!!

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liked by logansargeant, danielricciardo and 294,604 others

lancestroll: definitely think I could get used to this 💞💞

38,596 comments

username6: ah finally lance has got himself a girlfriend!! 🥺🥺

danielricciardo: lmao scotty mentioned you had a girlfriend but I thought he was joking 😂😂

username7: she looks beautiful, why not let us see her face???

estebanocon: damn bro, looks like you’ve been pulling out all the stops!

lancestroll: @/estebanocon when you know they’re someone special then you gotta spoil them

username8: notice how he’s cropped the photo so we can’t see the reflection in the first pic 🙄

username9: damn these photos are just a reminder that money talks

fernandoalo_oficial: now I see why you couldn’t hang around for a coffee today 😂😂

username10: clearly he must like this girl to be this romantic 🥺

logansargeant: fancy wining and dining me like you do your girl? ☺️

lancestroll: @/logansargeant date night next week pending…

username11: I promise we’re happy for you lance…just spill the beans

chloestroll: my baby bro is all grown up 🤧🤧

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lancestroll, carlossainz55 and 189,482 others

ynusername: adventuring with you is my favourite thing to do ❤️🩷

28,573 comments

username12: eurgh have I ever told you how much I hate soft launches??

charles_leclerc: you just wait until you arrive back in monaco…you’re mine!

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc you gotta catch me first 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername I swear-

username13: anyone else think this looks a tad like one of the drivers 🤔🤔

username14: so we’re thinking tall, athletic, dark hair…

carlossainz55: whilst I might not be your brother, I’m begging you to stop sending yours on the verge of a nervous breakdown 😭

username15: peep how lance also announced he was in a relationship last week too 🤷🏻‍♀️

pierregasly: why are you making me so bloody invested in your relationship yn!?

username16: aquariums are such cute places for dates 😭😭

ybffusername: IM WAITING FOR YOU TO GIVE ME DETAILS HURRY YOUR ASS UP

username17: whoever this guy is he clearly looks like he’s falling for yn hard

alexandrasaintmleux: I keep telling your brother to take me to the aquarium, he never listens!!

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux when I’m home we’ll go on a thousand aquarium dates 🐠🐠

username18: I can’t be the only one who noticed that lance liked..

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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, astonmartinf1 and 139,592 others

ynusername: experiencing life in the paddock in a different colour this weekend 🏎️💚

14,964 comments

username19: I would not like to be in the leclerc household tonight 😂

charles_leclerc: wtaf this is the ultimate betrayal 😭😭

username20: this has trouble written all over it!!

carlossainz55: can’t believe you abandoned the red corner yn 💔

username21: but why did she pick aston martin over all the other teams??

landonorris: all those times I’ve told you to come and be in our garage but you go here instead 🙄

ynusername: @/landonorris I had my reasons!!

username22: the biggest clue yet that lance is our mystery man surely 🔍

username23: can’t believe people are ruling out nando so easily 😂😂

arthur_leclerc: I’m telling mum that you didn’t support your brother this weekend!

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc I’m a grown woman who can do what she wants 🤦🏻‍♀️

fernandoalo_oficial: it was lovely to finally meet you properly this weekend 💚

username24: i hope lance realises he’s a dead man walking with charles around

lancestroll: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, arthur_leclerc and 169,692 others

ynusername: sailing away with my best friend 🤍🛥️

14,604 comments

username25: best friend 🤯🤯🤯

alexandrasaintmleux: @/charles_leclerc take note 📝

username26: they’re still not ready to admit they’re dating are they 😭

charles_leclerc: and here I was thinking that I was your best friend 💔

username27: you cannot convince me that third photo is not lance btw

pierregasly: why am I now playing this stupid guessing game too 🤦🏻‍♂️

username28: only lance would do all this for a girl, he’s a true romantic ❤️💕

arthur_leclerc: how about sailing back home cause we’re still waiting for some explanations???

username29: I love how they still think we haven’t figured everything out 😂

chloestroll: well isn’t this just the cutest date ever, this guy must be obsessed 🥺

ynusername: @/chloestroll what can I say, I’m a lucky girl 🩷🩷

username30: I just want to sail away with lance stroll too yn, I feel ya!

lancestroll: look at that beautiful smile 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, estebanocon and 295,608 others

lancestroll: in my boyfriend era 👑

13,704 comments

username31: lance is glowing in his boyfriend era wtf

estebanocon: idk what this girl has done to you but I don’t recognise you anymore 😂

danielricciardo: is it wrong to say I’m obsessed with boyfriend era lance??

username32: I wanna know who put the smile on his face 😭

username33: surely it’s obvious who put the smile on his face??

scottyjames: since when were you so boyfriend material 😂🤧

pierregasly: I’m only here cause apparently there’s a soft launch going on and I want the gossip 😂

username34: I’m so happy that you’re so happy lance!!

charles_leclerc: funny how you’ve told me nothing about this new girlfriend…

username35: now these photos make me want lance as my boyfriend too

chloestroll: these are the cutest photos, can’t wait to remind you of these every birthday for the rest of our lives 😂😂😂😂

username36: everyone needs a lance stroll in their life ☺️☺️

ynusername: looks like your girlfriend is very lucky to have someone as funny as you 🥺

lancestroll: @/ynusername no no I’m the lucky one 🫠

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lancestroll, charles_leclerc and 159,925 others

ynusername: turns out dating an f1 driver is a lot cooler than being the sibling of one 🥺🩷

21,573 comments

username37: they’ve finally gone official 🎉🎉🎉

chloestroll: my two fave people 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

username38: I can’t cope with how adorable these two are!!

charles_leclerc: there are thousands of people who would disagree btw 🏎️💪🏻

username39: can’t wait for lance to crash all future leclerc family gatherings 😂

lancestroll: seems to me that your boyfriend driver is a lot fitter than your brother driver too 🤔💕

ynusername: @/lancestroll oh he’s definitely the hottest 🫠

carlossainz55: don’t tell charles but he did secretly tell me that he was happy earlier…

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 that was supposed to stay between me and you 🖕🏻

username40: this makes my heart so so happy 💕💕

fernandoalo_oficial: thank god I don’t have to keep that a secret anymore 😂

username41: thank you for ending the soft launch game!

pierregasly: why do I feel proud that I guessed it was lance all along 🤦🏻‍♂️

username42: now this is what we call an adorable f1 couple 💞🏎️

arthur_leclerc: I guess I won’t be needing that explanation anymore…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

requests for smaus are currently open!!

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (2) | Joe Burrow

Angst/Fluff

Summary: Joe doesn’t have the best reaction to your news, and it causes some tension between the two of you.

••••••

You stared at Joe in confusion as he laughed.

“Good one, Y/N” he says, still laughing. “But if you’re going to play a prank on me, at least come up with a better joke” he adds as he calms down. “Joe, I’m not joking” you tell him quietly. “The acting was seriously top tier. How have you never shown that to me before? I mean the tears looked so real-“

“Joe I’m not kidding. I’m not trying to play a prank on you” you cut him off. “I’ve been nauseous all week, my boobs are incredibly sore, and I missed my period over a week ago” you explain, and he lets out a sigh. “There’s no possible way you could be pregnant. You’re on birth control. You have that thing in your arm” he reminds you, smiling again. “I think you’re being paranoid” he says causing you to scoff.

“Joe, this is serious-“

“You’re not pregnant. You sound crazy” he says pulling back from you. “Have I been working you too hard? Maybe it’s stress. Take the rest of the day off-“

“That doesn’t explain the positive pregnancy test on my bathroom counter” you argue starting to get aggravated. “I’ve been ignoring it for weeks. Hoping maybe I was a little bit crazy. But we weren’t exactly the most careful-“

“So you’re turning this around on me?” Joe asks, his jaw clenched. “No, I’m not-“

“That’s how it sounds. You were irresponsible and now you’re paying the price for it and taking it out on me” he spits with his eyes full of anger. “Last time I checked it takes two people for something like this to happen. I didn’t have sex with myself” you retort and he scoffs. “How could you let this happen? Do you know how much shit this is going to cause? I don’t need this right now. I have to go back to practice, and to be honest I’m not sure I even want you here right now. You’re dismissed for the day” Joe walked out of the office leaving you stunned.

You knew he might not have the best reaction but you didn’t think it would be like this. Joe has never spoken to you that way, even when he was at his worst. With tears in your eyes, you gathered your bag and slowly began to make your way toward the parking lot.

You had a lot of things running through your head, but one rash thought lingered and it made you sick to your stomach. It was going to be a long night.

•••

Later that night, you’re sitting on your couch with your laptop open in your lap. You decided to throw yourself into work, and Joe had a foundation event coming up that Robin asked you to help organize. Even mad at him you couldn’t let this go undone. His foundation was one of the most important things to him, and you kept telling yourself you were more so doing this for his parents. You’re about halfway through editing the announcement picture that would eventually be posted to the foundations instagram, when you heard a knock at your door.

Furrowing your brows, and setting your laptop on the glass coffee table, you walked over to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Your heart lurched at the sight of him. You open the door, and the two of you stare at each other for about a minute.

“You’re not here to throw me down the stairs, are you?” You ask, half joking.

Joe rolls his eyes, “can I come in?”

You move to the side and let him into your home. He kicks his shoes off, knowing you don’t like shoes on your light colored carpet. “What’s up? Why’d you stop by?” You ask, a sigh escaping your lips. You know exactly why he’s here, but you wanted to see what he had to say for himself. “I went home today after practice and had some time to think. The way I treated you was wrong and just absolutely disgusting” he says, stepping toward you, and you take a step back.

“I deserve that.” He says running his hand through his hair. “I never should have blamed you for this. This is just as much my fault, if not more. You did your part being safe, I’m the one that decided not to use condoms. That’s on me. I want you to know how sorry I am about today,” Joe says. You guys never breaking eye contact.

“You’re probably terrified, and I didn’t make it any easier-“

“That’s for sure.” You mutter. “Joe, I never meant for this to happen. And I’ve done a lot of thinking myself. I’m going to keep this baby. I’m not asking you for any help, I’m not asking you for any money. I’m fully prepared to do this by myself. I’ve started looking for another job-“

“Hang on a second-“

“You can sign your rights away. We don’t even have to tell anyone that the baby is yours. You’ll have no ties to it” you ramble, and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.” He states, his voice firm. “This is my kid, Y/N. Not just something I can pretend doesn’t exist. I want to do this with you, if you’ll let me” he pleads, reaching out to grab your hand.

“You really hurt me today, Joe.” You told him. “You made me feel like I ruined your life”

“I know, and I regret everything I said to you. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. You didn’t ruin my life. Neither one of us could have anticipated this happening” he assures you. “I am so so sorry” he says, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m still very upset with you. It’s going to take some time to fully forgive you” you tell him, and he frowns, but he understands.

“I have a doctors appointment in the morning, if you’d like to come” you offer. “It’s just to confirm everything and get a due date and all that fun stuff”

“I’ll drive and buy you breakfast” he says, looking down at you. “Speaking of food, I’m starving” you groan, and he lets out a laugh. “Alright, I guess I’ll feed you” he jokes, making his way to your kitchen. “Ooh, can you make that pasta that I like? I’m pretty sure I have all of the ingredients” you ask with pleading eyes.

“Yes, I can make you the pasta. Pick a movie, and shut that laptop. Work is over for the day” he orders.

“Sir, yes, sir”

•••

The Next Day

“Well congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant,” the doctor says, entering the room after your test results finally come back. “Both the urine and blood test came back positive. Judging by the numbers on your results it’s looking like you’re around 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, that’s around 2 months and a week.. Which would make your due date sometime in February, but we can’t be sure until we do an ultrasound” the doctor explains.

“The next course of action is going to be removing your nexplanon and doing an ultrasound” she explains.

You look over at Joe, who’s listening intently. He hasn’t said much since the two of you got here, but you’re giving him time. He wants to be involved, but he processes things a different way. You respect that.

“We can schedule the ultrasound for about a week from now. I don’t have any available ultrasound techs today. So I have a list of appointments, and you can choose what works best for you and your schedule. All of them are on Monday. There’s a 9am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm-“

“We can do Monday at 9am” Joe says, and you look over at him. “You have practice on Monday” you remind him. He shrugs. “We only watch film for the first two hours on Monday, you know that. They’ll be fine without me for an hour” he assures you. “We’ll do Monday at 9am” you tell the doctor, knowing Joe wasn’t going to let up.

“Perfect. Stop at the front desk to check out on your way back out. See you Monday. Congratulations, again” she smiles as she leaves the room. You look back over at Joe. “You okay?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m good. Now let’s go get you guys some breakfast,” he says, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You slip your hand in his and he leads you out of the room.

•••

“What can I get you guys to drink?”

“I’ll take a coffee with extra cream and sugar” you say, and Joe protests. “You can’t have coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby” he says, and you shoot him a glare that’s strong enough to cut. The waitress looks between the two of you hesitantly. . “I can have a little bit of caffeine,” you argue, and look back at waitress. “Ignore him. I’ll have a coffee” you say with a smile. It’s Joe’s turn to roll his eyes, as he orders a water for himself.

Once the waitress walks away, you kick Joe’s shin under the table. “You’re not going to be one of those overprotective fathers who dictates what I eat, drink, and do. I’m an adult. I can handle myself”

He lets out a sigh, knowing not to argue because your hormones are high right now. “Please do your research before acting like a control freak. I can have up to 200 grams of caffeine a day,” you tell him, and he sighs. “I just want to keep the two of you safe,” he admits, and you start to feel bad for going off on him.

“I appreciate that, Joey, but we’re good. We can handle a little bit of caffeine” you assure him, a slight smile on your face. The waitress returns with your drinks, and the proceeds to ask if you’re ready to order your food. “Can I have two over medium eggs, with hash browns, and toast?” The waitress writes down your order, Joe looks confused, but orders his blueberry pancakes and the waitress goes to put the order in.

“You hate eggs,” Joe comments.

“The baby wants them.”

Joe laughs, tossing his head back. “What the baby wants, the baby gets”

~~~~~~~

Ahhh our guys won yesterday!! I’m so proud of them :)

[nerdlvr]

✩ goons and ghosts.

(MDNI)

smut with sorta plot, 4k+ words , ghost jisung x gooner reader , riding , cowgirl and dogstyle positions , peeping tom jisung , female and male masturbation , dick sucking , deepthroating , a lot of spit , switch jisung , switch reader , jisung's a bold virgin and reader has never nutted , cum swallowing , ur reading ghost smut nothing is accurate , lmk if i missed anything!

making a side note cause idek what happened WE LOST THE PLOT but in the end i am decently satisfied with this work. there are no specified roles in this fic everyone just wants a good fuck ALSO will be uploading a text imagine for this fic because i got so emotionally invested in the character dynamics. okie bye pls enjoy!

.,

jisung didn’t like the would haunt. he didn’t haunt things, he simply resided there. just like how he had been residing in your apartment for the past couple months. did you know of his presence? no. but he was definitely not haunting you.

the first time was an accident... kinda. at first he was more curious about the furry little creature that he saw on your balcony, absentmindedly following it into your apartment.

what a strange creature that thing, it's almost like it could see him. its sharp tiny eyes following his figure as it shimmied through your glass doors. what a fat lump of fur, little bell jingling against its neck, that smug little look on its face and- oh my ghost, what are you doing?

he thinks he's never seen a human this pretty in his short lifetime (deathtime?). your hair was a mess against your sheets, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knit together in concentration as your hands fiddled against your panties.

he watched as the fabric soaked into your heat, pink painted toes curling at the pressure you applied through your soft fingertips. your whiny moans surrounded him, room hot and sticky against his skin.

meow

that thing speaks?

meow

he looked down to the side of your bed as the furball clawed at your sheets, its beady eyes still staring directly at him.

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?"

you attempted to swat the thing away, frustration building on your face.

"can you- momu what? what is it?"

You huffed as you sat up on your bed, hands slapping your duvet loudly. your eyes darted around the room looking for the source of your cat’s worries.

for a moment he froze in place, not like you could see him, but for some reason he felt like he’d been caught. he watched you hesitantly as your eyes scanned the room.

maybe it was the nerves but he swore that briefly, just briefly, your eyes focused right on where he was, a soft hm coming from your mouth as you relaxed back into your bed.

he was gone before you knew it, there’s no way you could see him, he was just being paranoid.

.

the second time was less of accident. he had been watching a movie with your neighbor, casper the friendly ghost, how fitting. 

the only thing that would make this crappy movie any better was if he could sneak a piece of popcorn, the oblivious idiot probably wouldn’t notice anyway, eyes focused on the bright tv screen. speaking of this idiot, was he blatantly ignoring your obnoxiously loud moans? your voice was practically seeping through the thin walls of his apartment. were you just an inconsiderate neighbor or was it really that good? he had to find out. he wasn’t creeping, he was simply curious.

and that’s how he found himself back in your room watching as you stuffed your pretty pussy full with your small fingers. never had he seen a girl in heat.

your body was gleaming with sweat, clearly having been at this for a while now. you pushed your fingers deeper and deeper, body squirming under the force of your own hands. how did you even manage to fit three fingers in there?

and even though your hole seemed to struggle with the size and your moans grew impossibly louder, you never truly seemed satisfied. you tossed and turned clearly frustrated by your lack of skill. he looked down at his pants, he was much bigger than your flimsy little fingers, if only he could move your hands and-

meow

fucking hell. momu was it? momu fuck off.

you rolled your eyes as you pulled your sticky fingers out of your hole, a loud sigh leaving your lips, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

he swore your eyes met his as you spoke to the furball. what did you know exactly? he didn’t give himself time to wonder as he moved back into your neighbors home, at least the idiot was asleep, time to eat his popcorn.

.

the next couple of times weren’t accidents at all. it had become a habit at this point to watch you touch yourself. how could he stop himself when you were practically calling for him? 

there you are sprawled out on your bed, sweet little pussy dripping onto your fresh sheets as you rubbed against your swollen clit. he was sat in his usual spot in the corner of your room, hands gently rubbing at his growing bulge, eyes trained on your body. if only he could touch you, please you how you so desperately wanted to be pleased. he knew he could satisfy you, could fuck the goon out of you. but why would he want this to end?

he wondered how pathetic he must look doing all of this, hand shoved down his pants, cheeks burning bright red as he came undone, embarrassed by his own actions. he only did all this because he knew you couldn’t see him, why would he openly be a peeping pervert?

.,

you in fact could see him. it’s not like you had some crazy superpower, you just could.

originally you had thought he was your neighbor’s sibling. tall, handsome, and dorky, you watched as he blew air into your neighbor’s face while he was getting the mail. you had smiled to yourself, what an annoying little brother. 

but then when you had mentioned it to your neighbor he had replied, “what brother?” strange. as you began to describe the image of the young man you had seen your neighbor only grew more confused. very strange.

maybe it was a misunderstanding. or maybe he was a fucking ghost.

it’s not like you believe in those things or anything, him being a ghost had never even crossed your mind. but as the same dorky man sunk into your room through your wall you thought there was absolutely no other explanation. 

you should’ve screamed, should’ve ran away, called the cops. but you were so close. your legs only squeezed tighter around your hand as you watched him flush at the sight of you, bulge pressing against his jeans. he seemed hesitant, almost scared, as he continued to watch you touch yourself.

he gulped as you rubbed harder against your clothed core, fabric rubbing against your abused clit.

meow

what better cockblocker than your own cat. 

"momu- stop- ugh, what is it?" you swatted at your cat, desperate to continue, "can you- momu what? what is it?"

you knew she was startled by the random man in your house, she was never a fan of new people. but you pretended to not know what was bothering her, looking around your room dumbly. you couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at the ghost, his chest rising and falling nervously like he had been caught. did he know you could see him?

definitely not, since he stumbled out of your room and straight off your balcony. you could practically scream, not only had your high died down, but your handsome hunk of a ghost had abandoned you.

you turned to your cat, “you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

.

how to evoke a ghost. okay maybe you were an horny freak, or maybe you were just insane, but you had suffered through countless nights of rubbing at your poor pussy, nothing satisfying you. but that one night that ghost had come into your room you felt like you could actually finish at the sight of him. where were you going to find a tall handsome loser in this day and age, let alone a dead one? okay, maybe you were a horny freak.

you scrolled through the google search results. light some candles and chant a prayer, too spooky. chant its name into a mirror, would it work if you chanted, “tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork, tall handsome dork!” probably not. you should’ve known it was pointless to begin with. you had lost your moment of luck, back to square one. 

you laid back into your soft bed, getting comfortable against your pillows as you began to run your hands over your body. this was just a warm up, goosebumps forming on your skin as you teased your nipples, fingers teasing the skin of your breasts. 

by the time your hands made their way down to your core you were panting softly, body running hot. you had probably been a little too excited to touch yourself, moans louder than usual as your fingers met your clit. holy shit, you squeezed your eyes shut, the image of the stranger ghost filled your head as you prodded at your entrance. one finger, not enough. two fingers, not enough. three fingers, your walls squeezed around your fingers tightly, why wasn’t this enough. 

you moaned loudly, partly in frustration and partly from the feeling of your fingers digging deeper inside of you, the image of the ghost never leaving your mind. you just knew he was bigger than three little fingers of yours.

nevertheless, you put your fingers to work, occasionally bringing your free hand down to rub at your clit. if only, if only he just- 

“fuck.”

your eyes fluttered open as you heard a soft groan coming from the corner of your room. and there he was, watching you touch yourself. you threw your head back on your pillow, body writhing under your touch as you felt his gaze burn your skin. this was good, actually it was more than good, it was great, you felt your walls pulse around your fingers, stomach in knots as you fucked yourself. 

meow

that damn cat. momu fuck off.

you sighed as you pulled your fingers out, attention now on your crying cat, “i know momu- momu i know, no ones harming mommy.”

you turned towards the ghost as you spoke, eyes pleading, please don’t leave. but he was already on his way out, fading into your wall.

.

he liked to watch and you liked to be watched. that’s how things had turned out between you two, you played with yourself for hours and he’d palm himself through his jeans until he came. then you’d get up, take a shower, and when you returned he’d be gone. you were smart enough to lock your door now, momu the cockblocker no longer interrupting. 

this unspoken arrangement between you two was fun, but not enough. hours and hours of rubbing and fucking yourself with your fingers and nothing. you were glad you helped him finish, but you’d never quite reach your own climax, pussy rubbed raw and not even one orgasm. 

if this was any other guy you would’ve called him out by now, selfish prick. but every time you looked over at him he was hunched over in your love seat, cheeks flushed, bangs covering his eyes as he quietly groaned to himself. it’s almost like he was hiding from you. tall man now tiny as he shrunk into himself, biting his hand to silence his loud moans as he spurts cum into his jeans. sometimes you’d catch him staring at you longingly, hands itching to touch you, so why didn’t he?

only you would get stuck with a shy pervert ghost.

.,

8:00 PM. around this time he was usually relaxing on your neighbor’s couch, watching whatever lame movie he had on his watchlist, but tonight your neighbor had gotten lucky, bringing some girl home.

they had been making out since they walked through the door, clothes quickly being removed and thrown around the entrance of his apartment. jisung was quick to slip away, deciding there was no harm in lounging at your place instead. he would much rather listen to your moans anyways.

he took his usual spot on the love seat in the corner of your room, slumping against the soft cushions. he wondered when you’d show up, you usually got horny around 10, so he guessed he’d have to wait for a while, but your arrival came sooner than expected as you walked into your room, lazily scratching at your arm, “oh hi.”

wait what? did you just talk to him?

your body stilled, eyes nervously glancing around the room. oh shit. had you just spoken to him?

he got up quickly from his seat, rushing towards you and waving a hand in your face, “can you see me?” 

you were quick to turn around, walking out of your room and towards your living room. he was early, and you had just spoken to him out of instinct. he was basically living in your house by now, appearing every night, but today he was early and you had forgotten you weren’t supposed to be able to see him. 

he followed after you, voice shaky as he called out for you, “wait- wait can you see me? stop-“

you stopped as you felt his hand reach for your arm. he let out a shocked gasp, “you can feel me too!”

he raised a finger at you as you turned to face him, a bright blush spreading down his neck. “you- you- can see-“ he redirected his finger to himself, “can see me?”

you gave him a quick nod, biting your lip to hide your smile, he was embarrassed, how cute.

“how- how can you- for how long?” his eyebrows knit together in worry, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

you contemplated whether or not to tell him the truth, maybe you could save him the shame of being caught red handed, and also benefit by not let him know you’re a weirdo who’s into ghosts. “this is my first time seeing you.”

he squinted his eyes, glaring at you, “you’re lying! if this was your first time seeing me you would’ve been scared! you’re acting like you’ve known me your whole life!”

you chuckled nervously, well now you both had been caught. “okay, maybe, maybe i’ve seen you around somewhere.” 

he paced around your living room, hands gripping at the roots of his hair as he clenched his teeth, “oh my- you know i’ve been watching you! this is so embarrassing! i- i’m leaving this is insane-“

“wait.” you grabbed at his arm before he could disappear, desperation building in your eyes.

he shivered in your grasp. you were touching him, touching him with the same hands you worked against your wet heat, night after night begging for releasee. he felt his pants tighten, head dropping in shame. 

“please don’t leave. i- i need you, don’t leave, please.”

he turned to you, confused. you needed him?

“you- you know better than anyone that i can’t- i can’t- you know.” you ducked your head, now you were the one feeling embarrassed. asking the paranormal to help you cum? top 10 most down bad moments.

“you can’t cum.” he said it so matter of factly that you forgot that he was that one that should be embarrassed. he’s the intruder, he’s the pervert, he’s the- the ghost!

“you want me to help you cum?” forget everything you just thought. yes he was all of those things, but right now, he was the only one that could make you finish, it’s not the time for smart comments.

you nodded slowly, eyes focused on a suddenly interesting speck of dust on the floor.

“use me.” you raised your head, eyes wide as you looked up at him. 

“use me to cum.” jisung hoped you couldn’t hear the nerves in his tone.

okay so remember all that stuff jisung said about how he’d touch you and please you how you deserved, blah blah. well he may have stretched the truth a tiny bit. in his defense he never thought he’d actually get the opportunity to do all those things, and it’s not his fault he's a 22 year old virgin ghost! and now he had a horny freak that was ready to devour him, dragging him into her bedroom. if it wasn’t for his painfully hard cock straining against his jeans he probably would’ve run away, preferring to listen to your neighbor get laid.

,

you were quick to undress, shame leaving you as you felt your body heat up, pussy aching at the thought of finally having the dick you so desperately craved. 

jisung mimicked your movements, undressing and climbing next to you in bed. he sat awkwardly, hands making a weak attempt at covering his length. you kneeled in front of him, arms coming up to collect your hair, tying it up neatly.

he gulped nervously, there it was, that look he knew so well. there was a glint in your eyes, that hungry gaze that meant you only had one thing in mind. an orgasm.

nervous was an understatement, he couldn’t have picked a more normal girl to watch?

,

you were going to eat him whole. he was there, right where you wanted him, and you were finally going to cum. it was just you, his dick, and your insatiable hunger. 

you reached for his hands, moving them away to reveal his hard length. he was long and girthy, tip flushed and leaking. your mouth watered as you reached out to grab his base, a shaky breath leaving his lips. 

he could practically cry as you stuck your tongue out to get a taste of him, rubbing the wet muscle along the head of his length. you parted your lips to surround his tip, sucking lightly. the moan you let out vibrated along his shaft, his shaky hands coming up to grip at you tied hair. 

you relaxed your jaw as you opened your mouth wider to take more of him in, hands moving away from his base to lightly massage his balls. he groaned loudly as you kept lowering yourself on him, nose touching his pubic bone. you were insane.

“holy shit, you fucking slut.”

he pulled you up by your hair, a gasp leaving your lips as oxygen entered your lungs. you looked up at him, eyes glassy, spit pooling in your mouth. he pushed your head back down on him, tip poking at the back of your throat as he bobbed you on him, lewd noises coming from your mouth as you slobbered on his length, spit dripping down to his balls,

“this is what you wanted hm? so desperate, that's why you let me watch you this whole time?”

he lifted you back up, eyes slightly widening at your crazy grin, head struggling to nod as his grip on your hair tightened. he brought his free hand up to wipe your face, spit running down your chin and onto your breasts.

“so fucking dirty, come here.” he pulled you towards his lap, holding you up so you’d hover above his length. he reached down to rub his tip along your folds, collecting your juices.

“look- look at how fucking wet you are- jesus- want me to fuck you that badly, you’re pathetic, you’d let anyone fuck this pussy wouldn’t you?”

you whined loudly, shaking your head, “no- no- just you- fuck- want you so bad, please.” you panted in his grasp, hips rocking against his tip.

“that’s right baby, only i have what this pretty little pussy wants- fuck.” the words died in jisung’s throat as you sank yourself down on his length, wet heat engulfing his length.

“shit shit shit, you’re so big-“ he watched as you threw your head back, hips now sitting flush against his lap.

any confidence jisung had prior to this moment was completely lost. his forehead ached at how tightly his brows knit together, mouth falling open in a silent moan. he was the ghost but your pussy was supernatural. 

his head fell against your breasts as you raised your hips before slamming back down onto him building a slow rhythm.

you gripped his jaw, bringing his face up to look at you, “got nothing to say now huh, dirty pervert, wanted to fuck me so bad.” he nodded into your hand, eyes soft as he stared up at you, “i- i thought i was gonna go crazy, wanted you so bad- fuck-“ you brought your hips flush against him, grinding down hard, his thick cock rubbing against your walls.

he gripped your ass, helping your hips move against his, “please- please use me to cum- want it so bad.” 

you smirked down at him, lifting your hips slowly to slide back down at an angle so the head of his cock would rub against your sweet spot. he watched you as moans erupted from your chest, eyes squeezing tightly as you softly bounced on him.

“such a good boy baby, cock so perfect- oh my-“ your hips fell against his, soft pants warm against his chest as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder.

he reached down to cup your face, “what’s wrong? what happened angel- are you okay?”

worry bloomed in his chest as he looked at your flushed face, tears building in your eyes as you pouted up at him, “i- i can’t- wanna cum so bad- please.” 

oh? you didn’t know how to make yourself cum. “poor baby-“ he kissed your pout softly before lifting you off of him, “good thing i’m here right?” he flipped you around, pushing your head down and pulling your hips up, “let me make you feel good hm?”

you nodded, head rubbing against your messy bedsheets. he slapped his length against your ass, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as you moaned at the feeling, “you’re dirty.” 

he grabbed the base of his cock, pressing into you weeping hole, the new angle making him feel deeper than before, “i love it.” 

that was the last thing said before his hips started to pound against your ass, loud slapping noises filling your room. you pushed your ass back deeper into him, each stroke of his length running along your spasming walls.

he hunched over your body, hand sneaking around your hips to rub your clit, “come on, i know you can do it baby, just relax, i got you.”

you focused on his touches, the way his fingers rolled along you clit, free hand flicking at your hard nipples, his length pulsing inside of you, tip kissing your cervix with each thrust.

then you felt it, that feeling you craved so much, like a pit of fire growing in your stomach, burning you from within, “please- please just like that, keep- keep.” you gripped onto the sheets, tears threatening to spill as you drooled dumbly.

,

in another universe above you, jisung was practically choking. your pussy had grown impossibly tighter, gummy walls suffocating him. if he kept at this he would probably faint. but as he felt your body begin to twitch beneath him he knew he couldn’t stop now. he fucked you like it was his only purpose on this earth, fingers cramping against your clit, but he kept going, he couldn’t stop.

your voice grew louder, a mix of moans and choked sobs leaving your drooling mouth as you wept into the sheets, body curling into itself as you felt the heat from your stomach explode. you gasped for air, toes curling as your body tensed.

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding,, body melting into the bed, a soft whine leaving your lips as you felt his length slip out of you.

he watched as you wiped at your face, tears staining your cheeks.

did you think this was over? he lifted you slightly, flipping you over on your back before climbing on top of you, legs straddling your chest. you hiccuped as he tapped your cheek with his still hard cock. “suck.” he placed his tip against your lips, moaning softly as you began to suck lightly.

your juices helped his hands slide against his length, his pace fast as he jerked himself off into your mouth. his free hand rubbed your cheek softly, tears wetting his fingertips, “so fucking pretty- look at me- fuck- i’m gonna cum.” 

you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes soft and glassy.  he was huge from this angle, lean body towering over you. his skin was flushed, pink spreading along his chest, bangs sticking to his forehead as he hunched over you.

"i'm-oh fuck-" his hand stilled, squeezing at his base. his mouth hung open in a silent moan, eyes crossing slightly as he spilled into your mouth. you moved your head away slightly as he rubbed some of his cum on your swollen lips.

he let out a loud sigh, tired body falling back onto your bed. he took a deep breath before sitting back up to reach for you, pulling you on top of him.

jisung looked down at you as your body shook against his chest, soft giggles leaving your lips, “i- i just had sex with a ghost! ha! i’m so fucking horny i’ve finally lost my mind!”

you slapped his chest lightly, then again, and again. “what?” he rubbed your back softly, “just wondering if you were actually real or if the gooning got to me.”

he chuckled as you started to giggle again, “you’re fucking insane and that is so fucking hot.”

a professional gooner and a pervert ghost aka a match made in heaven.

.

check out goons and ghosts the text imagine!

[byuntrash101]

the better friend

f!reader x san x mingi ft ateez smut | mdni 7.3k a good friend lets a friend watch but a better friend lets him join nsfw tags under the cut

idol!au, dom bf!san, switch simp!mingi (rengoku hair mingi because im weak for him), a teeny tiny bit of plot, san is an evil genius in this, biting, marking, exhibitionism/voyeurism (mingi peeping at reader and san), sensory deprivation (blindfold), suspicion of dubcon but it's cleared out, masturbation (m), oral (m), fingering (f), threesome with sangi, unprotected sex (don't do that kids), praises and degradation (good girl, darling, princess... but also slut, whore, etc), lots of begging, so. much. teasing, kitty slaps <33333 (san is the kitty slapper™), finger sucking (f & m), ruined orgasm (f), dumbification (reader and mingi are fucked stupid), sloppy seconds, cum play (lots of cum), multiple orgasms (f & m), overstimulation (m), facial (f), a bit of spit kink, squirting, lowkey wholesome ending (we love to see it)

this a sequel to the good friend but it can be read as a stand alone. you just have to know san and reader have been dating for a long time and mingi has been simping for reader for almost as long.

a/n: i really went all in tbh. i dont know what happened but like. this fic is filthy and I LOVE IT. also consider this our collective manifestation prayer circle to achieve barricade tickets for the upcoming tour <3

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Usually you wouldn’t watch the concert from the crowd. San said it would be too distracting to see you in the pit of faces along with the cheering crowd of entranced fans. Moreover, he could perform any song for you whenever you wanted, you simply had to ask. But you always argued it wasn’t the same looking from backstage because the angle was all wrong and the sound wasn’t as clear. And for the private concerts, they didn’t have the sparkly outfits and San didn’t have the same drive, the same aura he had on stage.

“Even with the best will in the world I can't cheer as loud and stroke your ego as good as a crowd of tens of thousands of Atinys chanting your name in unisson.” 

San only sighed. All those points were indeed valid. And he had to admit defeat.

“Just this once, ok?” and you practically jumped in his arms and kissed him all over his pretty face which traded the deep creases between his straight brows and the pout for an amused smile on his lips. “But you gotta promise me to blend in” he said sternly, momentarily getting out of the array of kisses to make sure he got his point across. You nodded firmly.

“Don’t worry too much about it Sannie~”  you said before hugging him again. 

“Yeah…” he said and you felt his cheek lifting against yours once more. An idea blossomed within him.

***

The concert was insane. You were so glad you had finally convinced your performer boyfriend. Being there in the crowd felt so much different from backstage. There you could cheer and enjoy the show in a way that was so much more intense and raw. You screamed and chanted and sang. You did everything. Yeosang even waved at you and you waved back. But it all felt and looked like a normal fan to idol interaction. So you were doing a pretty good job at keeping your promise to your boyfriend.

Speaking of the devil, that man captivated you. His aura on stage was unparalleled. His moves were sharp, his eyes focussed, his voice powerful and stable. He was incredibly professional. 

He perfectly conveyed every emotion of each act so perfectly. His delivery carried out sorrow and depth throughout the emotional songs and his moves inspired power and aplomb during the upbeat and energetic ones.

The fact that he still manages to surprise you every time with his talent and drive is incredible in itself. You were there every step of the way of his journey. You met a kid with a dream and now you stood in front of a man with passion. 

And what a man he was. You couldn’t get enough of him, enough of the way he moved so effortlessly on stage, enough of the way his presence filled the venue entirely. You couldn't take your eyes off him. The way the tight black sleeveless top hugged his frame, how his broad shoulders moved and accompanied every beat, how the sweat rolled off his temples and neck to get soaked by the black fabric, how his prominent muscles flexed and relaxed, the way the light bounced off his glossy bronzed skin. 

He was born to be on this stage of that you were convinced without the shadow of a doubt. 

But curiously when you weren’t eyeing your boyfriend like candy you found your eyes weirdly gravitating toward another member… Mingi. Well, no it wasn’t that weird, after all Mingi was your friend, a very good friend. Yeah it was only normal that you wanted to witness him in his element too. 

A friend cheering for a friend. 

Everything was perfectly normal. Everything? Even the thrill you felt when he delivered powerful and incisive rap verses with that low voice that was his signature? Even the tingle you felt in your guts when you saw him perfectly execute the body waves? Even the heat rushing to your chest and face when you saw the way his flexible hips rolled and thrusted? Even the unquenchable thirst you felt when you noticed the way his lips rounded up around the water bottle as he threw his head back and swallowed in big gulps, droplets of sweat running down the column of his throat and dripping at the soaked ends of the bright orange and red hair? Yes! Normal! Everything. Just normal…

But what was it, that you felt your eyes locked with his and you noticed he was also watching you. A fleeting second that seemed to last for a lifetime, hung in between the tensed and humid air. A second that silenced the crowd around you. And as quick as your eyes met his, the contact was broken. 

San once again smirked.

And the show went on.

***

When the show ended you waited a little for the venue to empty. Some people were still hanging around chatting excitedly about the fresh core memories they had made or taking selfies to ensure the memories stayed vivid for a long time. But you managed to sneak behind the barricades unnoticed. 

You found the members exchanging and laughing at some minor unnoticed mistakes that happened that you didn’t even catch.

“Y/n-ah!!” Wooyoung was the first one to notice you. And he wrapped his arms around your nape lovingly. “How was the show? Did you like it? Who was the most handsome back there? Was it me? Don’t say San or I will get mad! It was me, wasn’t it?”

You only laughed returning his warm embrace.

“You’re lucky Mingi isn’t here when you get this handsy with y/n” Yunho remarked, crossing his arms on his chest. You and Yeosang were the only ones that appeared remotely confused by the statement. 

“You mean San?” Yeosang asked, in an attempt to clear out the confusion but Yunho only shook his head.

“San doesn’t mind it as much.” Yunho added.

“Mingi is the one that only tolerates San being all touchy touchy with y/n” Seonghwa said, as he was removing his mic pack from his back pocket. 

You were still very much perplexed but when you went back to look at Yeosang he was just nodding knowingly in approbation. You decided to not pay more attention to the strange exchange because you only wanted to congratulate San.

“Speaking of my wonderful boyfriend. Any idea where he’s hiding?” 

Hongjoong shrugged as he looked around. 

“San and Mingi already went back to the dressing rooms, I think” Jongho said. 

“Thanks big baby” you said, ruffling his hair and fleeing instantly while you heard him complain about it in the distance. 

Once you reached the hall of individual dressing rooms you rushed to San’s door ready to barge in before you heard a muffled conversation coming from the other side. You couldn’t make much of what was being said but you recognized the voices without a doubt. You decided to knock before letting yourself in carefully.

“Oh! y/n, baby” San rushed to you as soon as you entered while Mingi stood there and gave you a silent nod and an awkward half smile (the signature business smile as Yunho liked to call it). You returned the smile, perfectly mirroring Mingi’s awkwardness. “So how was the show?” San continued paying no mind to Mingi anymore, solely focussing on you.

“I’m gonna get going” Mingi said, somewhat hurriedly before walking past you and heading towards the door. Before closing it he exchanged a knowing glance with San who returned it with a nod, you tried to decipher the unreadable expression on your boyfriend’s face but to no avail. And your tall fire haired friend disappeared promptly behind the door. Something felt strange about the whole ordeal but you couldn't pinpoint it. 

But after the tension you felt looking at Mingi during the concert you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, to bring him up. You wanted to focus on your boyfriend. That was the best thing to do… for everyone.

“So~ baby ~. Did you enjoy yourself?” San asked and he snaked his strong arm around your waist, his skin still had a light sheen of sweat about it.

“You were incredible!!” you said enthusiastically, trying your best to get rid of the outlandish feeling and the lingering guilt.

“Was I, huh? Really?” he said, curious to hear more. You knew how much San liked to be praised so you went on.

“You’re the performer of the century! Your voice was so good like baby your mic was ON!” San nestled his face in the crook of your neck.

“Go on” he said as he was planting soft kisses on your skin. His hands were now roaming your body sliding up your arms and down your spine to the small of your back and up again. He was really enjoying the praises, so much so that the atmosphere shifted again to feel a little heavier, a subtle change that you picked up on right away. After dating San for so long you knew him all too well to not know what the soft touches and gentle kisses on your neck meant. So you matched his energy. What better way to chase away Mingi’s memory than to let your boyfriend fuck you stupid until you could only remember his name and the way his cock felt inside you?

“Yes. You looked so focussed and you looked so good.'' Another kiss and another, slower, lingering, warm. “I couldn't take my eyes off you” you felt him smirk against your skin. That was a lie. He knew that but somehow that lighted a fire in him. And he threw a look to the ajar door of the dressing room.

“Fuck you smell so good baby” San huffed pushing his hardening cock onto your hip and you bit your lip to repress a moan. “It was so hard not to look at you while you were down in the pit” He breathed against your skin. “I wanted to make you step on that stage and take you right there.” He pushed his cock with more intent onto you. “I wanted everyone to see you. I wanted everyone to know what a good little slut you can be for me” This time the kiss had more teeth, you felt him bite onto your neck. “Can you imagine? All those eyes on you?” 

This mere vision had you moaning and throwing your head back. In a flash your brain played it like a movie for you: you, sprawled out onto the stage, being a good girl for your boyfriend. Your face flushed and your folds glistening with need. While he pushed into you under the roars of the crowd. Under their gaze. Under his gaze. Mingi looking at you being fucked full of cock and cum. Mingi looking at you… The thought sent a wave of arousal through your guts and you felt your panties becoming uncomfortably wet.

“Fuck” San complained in a short breath, his rumbling voice bringing you back. “I want you so fucking bad” the urgency that laced his low voice made the carnal confession that much more real. The sexual tension was almost palpable.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you said teasingly, pressing your thigh up his groin and you felt him melt into the skin of your neck with a small gasp. You smirked, satisfied.

“Fuck baby you’re so so bad” he teased and extended his hand to the clothing rack of gaudy and studded stage outfits that was next to you. “I want us to play today” his fingers interlaced with a silk scarf that you believed belonged to one of Yunho’s fits from a previous stage. “What about a little sensory deprivation play? What do you say baby?” He asked, holding the makeshift blindfold. 

You thought of it for a second. Any other time you would have jumped on the occasion but now… your goal was precisely to look at San to forget… well everything else. There’s really no telling what your imagination will run to if your eyes aren’t able to only take in the figure of your boyfriend. And that scared you a little bit. San sensed it right away.

“You know you can trust me right?” you knew that much of course you could trust him. But could you trust yourself?  

“I know what you like, baby don’t worry. Let’s try something new, okay?”

“Okay” you finally exhaled.

***

Mingi didn’t know what he was still doing there. Hunched over and peeping through the small gap of the door like a creep. He should go, he should have gone a long time ago. That was just a crazy idea. What kind of friend just agrees when he’s asked to watch his friend and his girlfriend (who also happened to be his crush) fuck? He should have declined and left but no. He said yes. And he didn’t even think twice, didn't even question it. He just blurted yes like a pathetic simp that’s been waiting for the occasion forever. (That was true unfortunately but Mingi wasn’t ready to admit that to himself). Now San probably thought he was a weird fucking pervert. A fucking freak. But he wasn't…right? Right! Yeah, of course he wasn’t! So he should leave… He should leave like now. But he couldn't.

He couldn’t when he saw your face change as San buried his face into your neck. He loved the way your eyes changed when he saw San roll his hips against yours. The whole aura about you changed, your gaze darkened but also your voice. It became lower, more sultry. He couldn’t make out what you two were saying but he didn’t have to because the non verbal language was more than enough to understand the simple primal interaction that was happening between you two. 

You were about to fuck…

When San grabbed Yunho’s silk scarf and held it to you. Mingi felt your hesitation but then an instant later San was carefully tying the silk ribbon at the back of your head. Not too tight just enough to keep you from seeing anything. And just like that in a second it was dark.

Mingi watched his friend guiding you to the vanity and you giggled playfully as his large hands snaked to your thighs and grabbed your ass to hoist you up the furniture, pushing the makeup products in the process, one lipstick rolling off the surface and on the ground. Neither of you both even realized and Mingi couldn’t care less especially now that San’s hand left your hip to turn around and signal Mingi to enter back into the room. 

His heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. Was he really about to do that? Yeah of course he was. Because his body was moving on its own, feeling the irrepressible pull, the inexplicable magnetism he felt for you from that very first day in Gang-nam. 

San’s hand moved to his lips to signal his tall friend not to make any noise. And as if he was floating Mingi found himself holding his breath and standing to your side ogling you hungrily as San focussed back on you. His hand leaving his lips to ride your skirt up your hips and revealing the black lace panties.

“Did you know we were going to do that?” your boyfriend asked and you didn’t need to see to know about the shit eating grin on his face. “Is it why you wore such easy-access clothes?”

You gasped and bit your lip. You couldn't see but you could feel. San’s warm hands on your thigh rose goosebumps on your skin. The heightened sensations made more arousal pool in your panties.

“Answer me, baby” San said, low voice taking on a commanding tone before suddenly pulling on your blouse, popping open every single one of your snap buttons and just like that your black lace bra was also on display.

And Mingi thought he was going to explode. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, he had to clench his fist so hard and only the dull pain in his palms kept him from gasping at the breathtaking view. How fucking beautiful could you be? 

San grabbed a fist full of your breasts kneading them roughly through your undergarment to urge an answer out of you 

“Yes!” you hurriedly replied. Arching your back into his touch. “I wore this skirt and blouse because I know how much you like to rip them off” 

“Good girl”

You heard your boyfriend hum in satisfaction and what you didn't hear was Mingi biting down on his lip so hard he could have drawn blood. But he couldn’t do otherwise when San’s fingers hooked themselves on the waist band of the lace and dragged the article of clothing along your thighs until it hung loosely on one of your ankles.

“Show me everything” San said in a breath, harshly tugging on your bra as your breasts jumped out and spilled to each side of your chest.

Mingi repressed a strangled gasp in the back of his throat as his dripping cock strained against the tight concert attire. 

“I said everything baby” San said and you knew exactly what he meant. Slowly you spread your legs to let the vanity light shine right onto your heat as everything remained dark on your part. 

Mingi felt like his brain was going to give out as your body was revealed. Your perfect breasts and hardened nipples and of course your dripping core. Long strings of slick linked your hole to the skin of your inner thighs. Mingi felt dizzy at the sight.

“Good girl” San praised again. “You always get wet so easily don't you?” he chuckled while you fought the urge to touch yourself. “Good little slut” he praised again, his hands dipping between your thighs and aiming right away for your clit. 

You pushed your hips onto his touch and moaned as he circled your bundle of nerves exactly how you liked it. 

“Fuck Sannie” you whined. “More please” 

“Want your cute little cunt finger fucked?” San cooed with his honey toned voice. And you nodded enthusiastically. But that only earned you a sharp slap on your exposed center. The wet clap resounded in the empty room. It seemed amplified for you. You moaned loudly at the stinging feeling, the delicious and unexpected pain made your legs tense up and shake slightly.

“You’re wearing a blindfold, not a gagball, princess. Use your words” San said sternly landing another slap on your swollen clit before gently circling it again.

“Y-yess!! Yes!!! P-please. Want your fingers inside” you replied in a strangle moaned, your hips uncontrollably following San’s every move.

Mingi’s jaw dropped to the floor he never knew you’d enjoyed such things, he never knew you’d enjoy the harsh tone of voice and the pain but there was no doubt you were actually loving every single second of this. Mingi was certain of it when he saw the way your cunt reacted to each little slap, the way you quivered, the way you rolled your hips into San’s hand, the pleasured moans that cascaded from your lips. Mingi couldn't take it anymore and without even realizing it he found himself palming his hard and leaking cock through his pants. 

“Good girl” San praised right before pushing two fingers inside your tight heat, curling them right into your sweet spot. You felt your concerns melt right away as you felt the two digits permeate you. The familiar feeling of the ring on his index made your mind go blank at the pleasure you felt radiating from your very core.

“F-fuck.. Sa-annie…” you breathed out with difficulty.

“Shhh. That’s it baby. I got you” San cooed, laying his other hand on your thigh, stroking it lightly. “You’re so good baby. You take my fingers so well”

The praises were setting your mind and body on fire, and you were giving in to the brazier. You moaned louder as San was pumping in and out of your cunt more rapidly, dragging out the wet squelching sounds that bounced off the walls and came back to your ears.

And Mingi’s too. He was completely entranced by the way your cunt was sucking in San’s fingers. You were so eager for them, your pussy clenching and throbbing around them every time he pulled out and welcoming them back when he pushed back in creating more thick and clear slick to gush out of your hungry little hole, the pull of arousal soon forming a small puddle in San’s palm. Mingi couldn’t think anymore, he could only rub his painfully hard cock as the wet precum stain became visible through his pants. 

“Baby are you going to cum?” San asked, his other hand leaving your thigh to lay flat on your stomach and drawing quick circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Yesss” you said through gritted teeth. But as you felt the familiar build up almost reach the peak it went away. San withdrew his fingers and took them out of your poor confused little cunt. Leaving you there to clench around nothing and whines slipped from your lips at the sudden loss of the fullness.

“You’re so greedy today” San said before slapping your eager little cunt again. You moaned and shook under him, fighting the urge to close your legs. “I’m not done playing with you”

San started to rub your clit again with his thumb with one hand while he lifted the other slick coated one to his tall friend. He wanted to chuckle but fought against it when Mingi looked back at him with puzzled puppy eyes. So he approached his hand closer to his face and mouthed “taste her”.

Mingi’s brain had given up a long time ago, so he was moving only on instincts when he opened his mouth and licked around his friend's digits as silently as possible. That was a dream come true never in a lifetime he would have hoped to taste you like this. Ever. You tasted so sweet and sinful, the velvety nectar slided on his tongue so smoothly and his eyes rolled back as he solely focused on your taste on his tongue and your alluring scent floating to his nose. 

Fuck that was what San had the pleasure of tasting everytime he found himself between your legs. If only he could taste more. Without even thinking Mingi wrapped both his hands around his friend’s wrist pushing his hand further into his mouth and sucked avidly on the cum coated finger and back to the pool of arousal that had gathered in his palm.

“Yeah that’s it” San praised as he circled your clit slowly, offering some kind of relief to the painfully swollen nub. But the praise was more for Mingi than for you. He smirked as he saw his friend devour your essence as if he was a parched man and the smirk only grew wider when he took back his hand and Mingi opened his eyes back looking at him with a glazed over stare. At that moment San knew his friend was done for.

“Here Princess” San said, extending to you his hand that was now coated in your own slick and Mingi’s spit. You instinctively welcomed the wet fingers into your mouth wrapping your lips around them and sucking them avidly. “How does it taste?”

“Sho- hmph… goodjf” you struggled to reply not wanting to let go of your boyfriend’s fingers.

Mingi was absolutely mesmerized by the way you were so eagerly sucking San’s fingers. Mixing your cum, your spit but also his own. His cock throbbed at the thought of cutting the middleman that was San’s hand and just lean down to kiss you. Lapping at your lips for entrance and diving into you, body and soul. He wanted it all.

“Such a good girl for me” San praised taking his fingers back, not without a quiet whine from your end and a repressed moan from Mingi. 

But the disappointment was short lived when you heard your boyfriend fidgeting with his pants and you knew what was coming up next. You prompted yourself on your elbow and spread your legs wider. San chuckled while Mingi cursed silently.

You were dying to see what San was doing. You wanted to see how he kicked off the pants and took his raging hard cock in hand to pump his fist a couple of times around it. You wanted to see him between your thighs as he rubbed his tip on your wets folds. You arched your back into him again, urging him to fill you up full of his cock.

“Fuck you’re so impatient, baby” He growled as he pushed his tip inside you earning a cry from you. “Is that what you wanted?" he huffed, his eyebrows meeting on his forehead as he felt the vice grip of your pussy around him. Even after a thousand times you still felt so good. So wet and tight for him.

“Y-yess! Oh fuck i- yes thank you Sannieee” you were barely able to say as you felt your cunt stretch around San’s girth. You lifted your face as if you could see him splitting you in two. You’d always liked to see him fill you up but sadly you couldn’t.

But Mingi, on the other hand, could see it all.

Mingi couldn’t help it anymore he pulled his pants and boxers down midthigh just enough to take his hard and leaking cock out. He didn’t take the time to undress. He didn’t have the time he needed to stroke his cock at the exact same pace as San was fucking you. 

Said pace was slow and deep. San liked to start out like that, he liked to drive you mad. You felt every inch of him leisurely pushing his thick cock inside until it touched the deepest part of you only to pull out just as slowly, enjoying the way your cunt gripped around him desperate to ever let him go. You were whimpering, whining and squirming. You were going crazy and you weren't the only one.

Mingi was struggling just as much as you were, his balled fist tightly wrapped around his aching length languidly going up and down. He was struggling to keep the hellishly slow pace, struggling to not stroke his fat cock faster but he had to if he wanted to maintain the illusion that it was him inside of you.

At some point San felt merciful and started to go faster. Not for you really he enjoyed to torture you way too much but it was more for Mingi, he noticed his tall friend pinching his lips into a thin line, sharp eyes shutting close and eyebrow digging a deep crease on his forehead. San enjoyed the anguish but he also enjoyed seeing the relief spread on his friends face when he finally fucked you harder. Your cunt became even tighter around San and he found himself moaning rhythmically along with you every time he pushed his thick cock inside you. While Mingi’s eyes didn't once leave your throbbing pretty pussy gushing out more and more translucent slick.

San gradually picked the pace to the point he was soon smashing his hips into you. Making your breasts jump with each powerful thrust. The fact that you couldn’t see your boyfriend makes you feel him that much more. You felt his strong and calloused hands on your thigh and waist and you felt his cock perfectly splitting you in two to this hellish rhythm that made you forget about anything else. Including your surroundings. You were no longer able to keep your voice down. Everything felt too strong, too good to be able to mask the loud moans of pleasure into small, controlled little whimpers. 

“F-fuck you’re really enjoying your…self” San struggled to say. “Aren’t you?”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer anything back. You could only let your tongue loll out of your mouth while you moaned incoherent words.

Mingi’s eyes kept on darting between your swollen cunt and your fucked out face. He just knew that underneath the silk blindfold you were rolling your eyes. And that made his cock twitch in his hold, more precum oozing out the tip, at this point it was practically dripping onto the tiled floor.

“Fuck why are you being so fucking loud for?” San asked with a scoff. “Want people to hear you?”

“Sa-nnie” you complained but you did not become quieter for that much.

“Ohh. I get it” San said in a sarcastic tone, slowing down again. That had you squirming when you felt the tight feeling in your core slowly fading away.

“N-no, p-please Sannie, nooo” you begged shaking your hips, trying to fuck yourself back on your boyfriend’s cock to find the same rhythm.

“You want people to know what kind of good whore you are”

“Yes, yesss. Exactly-fu-... Sannie please.” You would have agreed to anything he was saying to have him fuck you exactly like he was a second ago.

“Maybe you even want my members to hear you” San said with a smirk. “Especially Mingi I bet”.

At the mention of the name you stopped moving around, your brain flooding with the images of Mingi body rolling and dancing.

“Oh you just became tighter baby.” San said with a smirk. “So you do want him to see you” San said, fucking you even slower now. 

“Pleaseeee” you said in a breath.

“I bet you wished it was him fucking you right now” San said eventually completely pulling out of you.

“Noo… P-please” you whined quietly your throbbing cunt clenching around nothing, begging for more attention.

For the first time Mingi peeled his eyes off you to look at his friend only to be met with San’s wicked smirk. San’s smirk grew wider when he saw his fiery haired friend look back at him with big round terrified eyes. He knew Mingi was panicking right now; he couldn’t even touch his cock anymore. Poor weeping thing just waited there ignored while it continued leaking more precum.

“Say it, Princess” San insisted. “Be honest with me. Be honest with yourself” San cooed, leaning over you to whisper in your ear before leaving his place between your legs and gesturing to Mingi to take his place. 

For a second Mingi was completely frozen to the side. He didn’t know how to act. His brain was almost melting out his ears and he was in complete overdrive. But he shook his head and took a silent step in your direction then a second one and found himself right between your spread legs. He could have cum with just that, just looking at you from that angle just knowing that he could take you right there. But he waited. Immobile. 

“If you want more cock. You’ll have to say it baby” San cooed again in your ear and you faced a dilemma.

You didn’t know if you could really voice out your secret fantasy that way. San never struck you to be the jealous kind but still… he required you to say that and in this second, on the brink of your orgasm, your brain only soaked in sin and lust you couldn’t think of anything else than to be rammed again. You pictured Mingi again in your mind, you imagined what he would feel like inside you, what he would sound like, what he would look like. Fuck… you did want that.

“I-I wish it was Mingi fucking me right now” you said hesitantly but pushing your hips up, spreading your legs even further pushing your soaked and desperate little cunt in the air. 

“Good girl” San whispered, satisfied and gave a nod to Mingi.

Mingi’s heart was about to burst out of chest. The frantic muscle was rattling against his ribs and jumping in his throat then diving back in the pit of his stomach. He was all over the place. He couldn't believe it. He couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe he heard you say that. Saying out loud you wished another man was inside you instead of your boyfriend. And not any man. Him. 

You wanted him.

His hands were shaking when he grabbed the base of his cock, twitching as he approached it slowly from your core while you grew more and more impatient. 

“Pleaseee” you whined again. “I said it…. now please give me cock” you pleaded. 

As soon as Mingi’s tip touched your entrance you went completely silent and Mingi struggled to do too. When he pushed himself inside you he could have passed out. You were so welcoming, so warm, so tight, so wet. So good. Oh so fucking good. He progressed inside you very slowly earning a long stretched out moan from your end. He couldn't believe he was the one making you feel this way. He was the one pulling those beautiful sounds out of your lips. When he bottomed out he swore he had died and went to heaven. There was no other explanation. The way he felt could only be explained by faith. God was a woman. And that woman was you.

Fuck he needed more of this. He needed to feel you more, to hear you more, to see you more. He wanted it all.

He started to pump himself in and out of you faster, his hand struggling to find a place to settle, finally opting to grab the edge of the vanity. Avoiding direct contact with you, fearing you would recognize him. Rapidly he found himself fucking you (and himself) senseless, rutting his hips like a dog while San watched with a little satisfied smirk, thick cock in hand stroking lazily. 

Your mouth went agape. It felt so good, so fucking good to be finally fucked that deep that rough, exactly how you wanted, the tight feeling in your gut rapidly building up again. But it also felt different. The angle was different. It felt like San’s dick wasn’t hitting the same spot as usual, it also felt slightly curved upwards. And longer. And what about the hands, the touches? San always holds you at the waist, always stuffs his fingers in your mouth? Why wasn't he touching you?

In a flash you ripped the blind fold off your eyes and opened them. At first the bright lights of the vanity behind you blinded you for a short second. The first thing you saw was the tuft of dampened fiery orange hair. Then your vision cleared out and you saw Mingi right between your legs, sharp brows deeply furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line and smashing himself into you at an unbelievable pace. 

The shock you felt tightened your stomach and you came on the spot.

To see Mingi fucking you this hard, take so much pleasure with it and struggling to keep quiet while he fucked you secretly. You didn’t need anything more. 

“F-fuc- Min-gi” you whined as your legs tensed up and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth agape.

“Y-y/n” Mingi whispered, his hands flying to your hips at that very second you opened your eyes, the many rings on his fingers digging into your skin and without a doubt marking you for the next couple of days. His strong grip grounding you into the vanity to fuck you deeper, faster, better.

You creamed around his cock, your back arched up, your pretty moans and your cunt fluttering around him took Mingi right with you to cloud 9. He couldn’t stop his hips from ramming into you while he delivered scorching hot ropes of thick cum right into your avid little hole. Spasming and twitching. To him it felt like your pussy was trying to milk him dry as he moaned your name a thousand times while bent over you until his hips became sloppy and he eventually came to a stop.

“Awww.” San said as he looked at the both of you disheveled and out of breath, both coming down from your highs. “You both came looking at each other. That's cute” But then he wrapped his hands around your jaw to turn your head to him. “But that made me a little jealous. Don't you think you need to make it up to me, darling?”

Mingi pulled out, out of breath you felt the hot cum running down your pussy and dripping onto the floor. San placed his hand on Mingi’s shoulder and he switched places to join your side.

“Look at that?” San said, crouching down, inspecting your twitching little pussy. “Eventhough you were just fucked full of cum I can tell you want more, baby”

You nodded frantically at the idea of being filled up again.

“Please yes”

San pushed his cock inside you with ease. Mingi’s load providing the perfect lube.

“I slide right in, baby. ” San grunted. After all this teasing he found himself to be closer to his breaking point then he anticipated. “You got her nice and lubed up for me, man.” He sent a cheeky wink to Mingi.

You were just right back down from cumming a short while ago but you found yourself moaning loud for your boyfriend’s cock. It felt so good and soon you were begging him to fuck you harder.

“Please Sannie faster” you said.

“Of course princess I’ll fuck Mingi’s cum right back into your hole he said with a smirk to his friend before smashing himself in. He too was moaning like you were both alone not having a care in the world of what could have been happening outside the dressing room. And soon enough Mingi was hard again.

“Baby, your new boyfriend needs help over there.” San said between moans, drawing your attention back on Mingi again, as he was standing there idle, painful cock laying heavy in his balled fist.

“Please Mingi let me suck your cock” you asked looking right back up at him as your body was jolted up with San’s every move. You didn’t even let Mingi think about it for a second. Your lips instinctively found his beet red tip and you rounded your mouth around it. 

He tasted too good, you relished in the strong flavour and aroma of his cum mixed with your own nectar. It tasted sinful but oh so fucking right. This taste and the way his cock smoothly glided in your tongue made your mind go completely blank. Your tongue focussing on his tip between every come and go around his shaft to collect the precious salty precum you earned along with every grunt, every pant, every whimper from the tall man. You couldn’t have enough of it and you kept on sucking his cock. Relentlessly trying to get another load out of him.

Mingi felt so fucking sensitive right after cumming but it also felt so good.  His strong hand flew to your hair as he grabbed a big fistfull. Instinctively pulling on it to keep you from gobbling up his cock that still felt very sensitive, his moans went up in pitch with overstimulation.

“You’re a real fucking whore for his cock, arent you, Angel?” San asked as he landed a sharp and unexpected slap on your cunt. Making you pop Mingi out of your mouth to look back at your boyfriend again. The delicious sting made you arch your back.

“A-again pleaseee” you said through gritted teeth as San smirked and made your wish come true, slapping your eager little cunt again, making you clench around him harder, making him falter ever so slightly.

Mingi was now pumping his cock over your face, you heard as clear as day the squelching sounds of his spit and cum coating his cock as he stroked it right over you.

San was rubbing tight circles on your swollen reddened clit and ramming into you with all his might. You knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Sannie I’m gonna c-” another sharp slap landed onto your sensitive clit, making you cry out a whimper.

“Not yet, whore. Make your new boyfriend cum first”. San nodded his head in Mingi’s direction.

You were so far gone, mind, body and soul only filled with cock that you didn’t even catch how San referred to Mingi. You were ready to do anything for your boyfriend to finally let you cum so you turned your attention  back to Mingi.

“Please Mingi give me your cum, pleasepleaseplease. Want your cum all over my face.”

Mingi didn’t need more. It flipped a switch inside him to see you spread open by San’s cock but getting your undivided attention to beg for his cum like it was the most precious substance on earth. 

“Fuck y/n” he said in a strangled moan. “Want my cum huh?” the grip on your hair tightened, making the veins of his forearm pop.

“Yes yes yes yes yes pleaseplease” 

“Fuck you’re so good to me. Fuckkkkk… Y/n I love you” he confessed in a breath right before letting out thick ropes of cum that split your face in two from chin to forehead. “I love you I love you I love you” he chanted, both his heart and body finally letting out what he’s been holding back for years. The pleasure made his head spin, more cum crashing onto your nose and lips which you licked hurriedly to get the chance to taste him again.

“Good girl” San said, picking up the pace as he never stopped fucking into you. “You’re so pretty with all this cum on you. Your pretty pussy full of cum and your pretty fucking face too” he said his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“Want another load, Princess?” he asked strong shoulders bulging out as he gripped your waist tighter, bruising your skin and joining Mingi’s ring marks. 

“Yes please cum inside sannie” you whined throwing your head back “Please I want your c-hmppph” your words caught in your throat when Mingi started to rub circles on your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. “Fuckkk” you cried.

“P-please… more… c-cum” you said, your brain completely tuning out to let your primal instinct take the lead. 

“Fuck baby I’m so close San said. 

“Me too.. I-” right at this moment Mingi lightly slapped your pussy and it was the last straw. You were pushed over the edge and Mingi continued to give little fast slaps to your sensitive clit, making you shake as your cum gushed out of you in translucent and powerful streams.

“Fuckkk I’m c-cumming” San said as he delivered more cum inside your hole, joining Mingi’s and mixing together. You completely lost your mind on the feeling of how full you felt while San was pumping another big load into you and Mingi was repeatedly slapping your pretty pussy then switching to quick circles again that gradually slowed down to a stop.

When San pulled out he looked at you with a warm smile that made his eyes into crescents.

“Isn’t she pretty like this?” he asked Mingi, who was looking at you with just as much love.

“Yeah, she is” he breathed out while you gradually came back to your senses.

“Should we make it official?” San asked peeling his eyes off you to look at his friend. 

“What?” Mingi asked, clueless.

“Well the three of us are together now.” San said before turning his attention to you again “Isn't that right, darling?” and you nodded.

“Well Mingi, next time if you want to confess in the middle of a fuck how about you take me out on a date before cumming on my face?” You said scraping the cum on your cheeks into your mouth and sucking on your fingers and San chuckled but Mingi protested looking affronted.

“Hey! You asked me to!”

a/n: i had so much fun writing this i hope you liked reading my babes <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

taglist: @jonghospookiedookie @ateezbbys @mingi-chilli-con-carne @walkingtravesty97 @staytiny816 @fancyglam24 @simpforateezforever @heyitsmetonid @acetruepunk @shineekrystalzzz @hwallazia @kierraperkins3 @seeoonghwaa @dawn-iscozy @miniminkis @itza-meee @bittersweetsparadise @oiminho @nebulousbookshelf @seonghwasbobaeyes @certifiedmoa @mulletjoonsupremacy @therealcuppicake @v-lvs-yungi @yourfatherlucifer @minkiverse @choisanboobenthusiast @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mustbeaweasleyginger (i tagged everyone that asked for part 2 hope you dont mind tell me if u wanna be removed)

[the-lemonaut]

Characters co-owned w @_magic.stardust_ on IG 😌✨ (a couple more comics abt this on my account already)

I'm not a very positive person, i have a LOT of doomer tendencies. I feel everything like it's cranked up to the max, and as you can imagine it doesn't feel great. Every day throws more atrocious things in my face, and i can't ignore it 🥲

I see other people feeling the same way. We dissociate and numb ourselves by watching, playing, buying stuff. Hateful movements are gaining traction and climate change has its foot in the door

And it's all happening either way, to some degree. I feel like shit, and i'm sick of that. I might as well have a little bit of hope, otherwise i'll go bonkers 😭 Do we continue doomering our way through life or ignoring things altogether, or do we choose to hope a little?

That's why i'm looking into Solarpunk and am thinking of taking any readers (and myself) on a little journey through a better world, and how it might work, through a series of mini-comics I'm posting here. I don't have all the answers (no one person ever does), and i don't hold any pretenses that this kind of world is going to be our future. But i often hear "You love critiquing the status quo, but what do you propose instead?" I'd like to find out too. Here's to something we can hope for, no matter how slim the chances are! Because as I said, i might just lose my mind otherwise ☠️

P.S for new peeps: this is an AU with me and my friend's OCs, so all characters are genderless and go by they/them. It's not identical to our world in that regard, but other than this fact we try to keep it more or less realistic 🤙

I spent a thousand krillion hours on this and the other Solarpunk comics, consider throwing 2$ at me on Buy Me A Coffee to raise my spirits :] I'm not doing well mentally these days, but people's appreciation helps a lot. Thank you very much!

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙ like a feather 🪶 | CL16 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: none just fluff as per

summary: in which you're his celebrity crush and he eventually becomes yours too

a/n: me doing research to write this fic 🤓 (watching the feather mv)

request!!!: Hi, how are you? sooo i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is dating a singer and he's playing the guy who Milo was (in Sabrina Carpenter's Feather music video) and this breaks the internet and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush like Taylor and Travis's relationship. Sabrina Carpenter as a face claim if this okay and thank you.

fc: sabrina carpenter

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa, and 1,023,821 others

yourusername virtual postcards 💋

view all 22,293 comments

gracieabrams wow wow wow

yourusername blushingg

user1 omg mother

user2 ilysm

user3 she is so insane

yourbff wow i love u

yourusername i love u more

user4 im in love

dualipa beautiful as always 💋

liked by yourusername

user5 anyone else peep charles leclerc in the likes?? anyone? just me

user6 is y/n his next victim

user7 i would never allow it

interview ->

twitter ->

messages ->

/

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, maxverstappen1, and 991,284 others

user12 urm yn??

user13 what does this mean

user14 Y/N???

user15 IS THIS A CHARLES LECLERC REFERENCE

yourbff ur gonna send ppl crazy with this

yourusername hehehehe

interview ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc, and 1,827,023 others

yourusername the feather music video is urs now !!! <333 tysm for all the love on this track & to everyone who helped out with the making of the mv, u might notice a certain someone starring!!!! thank u to our mr ferrari , charles leclerc🙏🪶❤️

view all 31,294 comments

charles_leclerc thanks so much for having me, y/n! it was so much fun

yourusername tysm for being soo cooperative it was the most fun ever!!!! sorry if it was too crazy

charles_leclerc never too crazy

user20 omg 🥲🥲🥲

user21 OH MY GOD

user22 omg they are so hot

user23 THE CROSS OVER

user24 this mv is my new roman empire

user25 they srsly need to date

yourbff wow congrats gorgeous girl !!

liked by yourusername

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

charles_leclerc posted a story

liked by yourbff, carlossainz55, and 398,183 others

user33 CHARLES????!!!!!! AND Y/N?

user34 hard launch or friends

maxverstappen1 wow wait a minute

pierregasly hello?

user35 they're dating i know it

user36 IS SHE UR GF CHARLES

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 809,841 others

charles_leclerc ✈️

view all 27,283 comments

user37 omg...

user38 ok. im speechless

user39 this looks a lot like a hard launch

alex_albon go off

liked by yourusername

gracieabrams love love loveee

charles_leclerc ❤️

yourbff omg

liked by charles_leclerc

user40 HARD LAUNCH??!

user41 omg we've come so far

user42 "she doesnt know who i am" 😭😭😭

francisca.cgomes omg please introduce me

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername

interview ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 1,087,918 others

yourusername well, sure and well, my cat loves him

view all 33,293 comments

user50 NOT THE INTERVIEW QUOTEEEE

maxverstappen1 this has been amazing to watch, so thank you y/n

charles_leclerc i hate you

yourusername hahahah

yourbff i just knew this would happen

pierregasly you're not the only one

user51 everything about this is amazing

user52 most iconic crossover ever

user53 the 2024 season in the ferrari garage is going to go OFF with y/n there

liked by charles_leclerc

user54 fast times? no, fast cars

user55 charles piano feature on a y/n track when

yourusername 👀

user56 OMG

charles_leclerc i feel so lucky

yourusername you're my celebrity crush 🫶

user57 omg

user58 i screamed

THE END ❤️

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost is very interested, to put it mildly. can't seem to stop re-watching your debut video that was released a week ago. it's always the same premise. black leather couch casting. nice little bird in a modest dress or shirt and jeans who gets undressed because the "director" has to take in measurements and the like, only to end up getting railed from the back with their pretty face pressed into the cushion.

it's a thing male viewers like. they love to watch a professional break in the new girl. he, though, not so much. he doesn't go for the new girls. doesn't like to be the one to test the limit like others do. (big cock anal on their debut? ghost finds it a bit much.) he hears one tiny gasped ouch and he's not finishing the shoot.

no, what gets him going is the enjoyment one can get during sex. it's why he ended up in this business in the first place. he likes sex. a lot.

likes to have men, women, young and old alike writhing beneath him gasping his (stage) name due to the pleasure and not because a script said to. and the benefits of working in the porn industry means that he gets paid doing what he likes, and can stay safe while doing so.

this is where you come in. the only reason he'd sat down to watch your video at all is because you'd been given a contract by the same company he is under. he's bound to come across you at a later date, might as well learn what he'll be eventually working with.

and he's hooked. whatever initial nervousness you might've had at the very beginning (because this is your very first professional shoot, of course) bleeds from your shoulders once price, the lucky bloke, gets his hands on you. you're a bloody natural.

and you enjoy it. there's no faking the way your nails bite into price's scalp when he licks at your pussy through your thin knickers. you gently wrap your hand around his fingers that's rolling your hardened nipple, giving it a gentle squeeze. he's doing it too rough. you buck your hips into his face, riding it even though you're the one on your back.

ps!ghost has to swallow the mouthful of saliva when he notices strings of creamy white sticking to price's body hair, a frothy ring around the root. the best part of all of this, is that you're giving as good as you take. you're no passive participant. you could, under price's big bulk, just get folded in half and do nothing other than feel the sweet burn of his cock stretch you, turn you inside out.

but you don't. you know exactly what you like and how you like it. you look for your orgasm, make sure it happens under your manicured fingers or price's thick ones. you don't let him be too rough on you nor too gentle.

simon loves it. you're new to this. you could've just accepted what he gave you without so much as a peep of complaint and gone home to soak in an epsom salt bath. but you didn't. you didn't let him pinch your sensitive clit, didn't let him mindlessly claim a fistful of hair.

but you did open your pretty mouth so he could spit in it (fucking lovely, it was) and let him keep your soft hips in the air as john's pace turned frantic and the best of all (in his very biased opinion) you crossed your ankles around his waist to keep him there as he fucked you full of his come.

(had simon been there, he would've begged for a taste if he had to.)

he feels a bit desperate, after. can't get you out of his head. the thought of your slick pussy hot around his cock is what gets him to finish at times. the other times, it's your video. he swears he's found his equal (sorry, soap) one that'll forget that he's supposed to be putting on a show for the viewers.

sorry price, he's about to unfuck him out of your pussy until all it'll ever remember is simon.

(what he doesn't understand is that he's about to forget more than the viewers. why is price watching yall again? it's almost intimate the way you let him fuck you on a creaky mattress. he's drunk on the smell of you, your hair, your cunt. lost all thought when his fat cock slid with relative ease into your wet heat and all he'd done was let you make yourself come on his fingers and tongue as many times as you'd pleased. you'd latched onto his neck, maybe out of habit or whatever, it doesn't matter. he'll be telling the makeup artists to leave the bites you left. he earned every single one. and where he usually pulls out because it's easier to clean up for everyone? you'll not be wasting a single drop. it appears he has a lot bit of a breeding kink.)

[mcflymemes]

A HANDFUL OF MISCELLANEOUS PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue most likely taken from taskmaster, adjust as necessary

i was so shit at that.

i don't know what the hell is going on.

you know i'm strong, so if i break this, that's on you.

i'm under a lot of stress.

are you going to explain yourself?

this isn't fair.

there's a peep hole.

what am i gonna do with that?

i wish that was a joke.

was it that bad?

have you tried it?

it could take a few months.

there's something inside this.

i'm good at this! i'm very good.

can you argue with me though?

you look fabulous.

do you chase people?

we'll come back to that later.

was that wrong?

i would have done it... if you'd done your fucking job.

say it. we're all adults here.

whisper it to me.

that's enough!

god, i almost believed you.

look at me!

listen, i don't care about that.

we are lovers.

where's the cheese grater?

live your truth. if you like it, you like it.

i don't feel good saying this.

would you like some dessert?

i didn't say it was going to be funny.

this is amazing.

the least i could do was rob him.

they're all pieces of shit.

i make this look good.

how do you make cereal? do you add the milk first, or add the cereal first?

how dare you.

this has been a weird week for me.

i dressed as spongebob to go to a party.

i find it religiously insensitive.

let's never speak of it again.

are you married?

maybe you and i could hang out sometime.

i didn't realize you had a degree.

can i play a saxophone? no.

there's a dignity in total failure.

you look happy.

i am happy any day that i'm with you.

i just feel like we've got so much in common.

what life choices brought you here?

we're creatures of habit, aren't we?

would you like some champagne?

so... i've set it on fire.

when i don't smile, people think i'm dead.

he needs to smile more.

that's my favorite bee gees song.

i'm in quite a lot of pain.

am i missing something?

here we are!

what's your favorite swear word?

not today, satan.

you're doing so well today!

this is where the magic doesn't happen.

smells nice in here!

nice to know i'll never find love.

i don't know if you can tell, but i feel quite lonely.

shall we hold hands?

neither of you noticed this woman lying on the floor?

it's in your pocket!

don't know what's going on... but then to be honest, i've not had a clue what's going on for most of this.

i don't mean to be rude.

do you feel any sense of shame?

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 18: Dan Heng x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 8087

Warnings: Afab!reader, heat/rut cycles, ABO inspired, "dragon magic", tentacles in pussy, tentacles in ass, anal sex, oviposition (in the butt), eggs, mentions of egg laying, breeding, birth, etc the whole nine yards lol

A/N: Did not mean for this one to get so damn long 😩

⭐

It’s not unusual for Dan Heng to shut himself up in his room for days at a time, but you can’t help noticing his continued absence during communal meals over the last week. Usually he’d at least come out long enough to eat once with the rest of the crew, maybe even twice if you were lucky, and you never thought much of it. This seems somehow different to you though. He wasn’t typically this elusive. 

So you finally ask March about it one day after not seeing hide nor tail of him, not even in passing, to which she offers up a great big shrug. She had no clue what was going on with him, only that he sometimes got like this seemingly out of the blue. The only consolation she has for you is that it wasn’t anything permanent and that he’d soon be back to his old self again as if it never even happened in the first place. That’s how it always went, or so she said. 

Still, you can’t help worrying about him and you lie in bed that night pondering the situation. There was a very compelling part of you that wanted to check in on him, just to make sure he really was okay, but the logical part of your mind not ruled by emotion insists that it was probably best to let him have his space. You’re admittedly rather torn over what to do, especially when you were starting to feel a little stir crazy on this desolate stretch of the star rail where you didn’t have much of anything to do before the next warp jump. 

Under normal circumstances you would have spent this time together with March and Dan Heng, both together as a group and also individually to help wile away the amber hours, but after the impromptu makeover March had given you last night … you just don’t feel quite up to another evening spent in her room. You wanted to go hang out in the quiet, relaxing space of Dan Heng’s, if you were being honest. Badly, in fact. 

There just wasn’t a whole lot to entertain yourself with or even to look at in yours, still largely as empty and unoccupied as it was when it was first given to you, save the handful of bits and baubles you’ve picked up thus far on your journey. The data bank room where Dan Heng set up camp was far more interesting in comparison and there was always something for you to look at or mess with. Even if the two of you just sat in silence together while he read a book or logged information into the terminal, it still would have been preferable to this. 

That thought is what ultimately sways your decision after much uncertain flip flopping on the matter, and you hop up from your bed to pad towards the door. You don’t bother with shoes, since his room was right next to yours, and you quietly creep out into the hall as carefully as you can manage. 

Tip toeing over to the neighboring door, you surreptitiously glance either way down the softly rumbling train car to ensure no one was coming who would question what you were up to before reaching up to lightly rap at the sliding panel. You receive no answer at all so you try calling out to him next, mindful of keeping your voice in check. 

“Dan Heng? Are you awake?” 

Nothing. Not even a peep. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you might have thought he wasn’t even there at all but that didn’t make any sense. Where else could he have possibly gone? 

Feeling a tinge of doubt curl through your chest, you shuffle close to lean into the door and press your ear against it, holding your breath while you listen. It takes a long beat for your hearing to fully tune in to the other side of the sturdy barrier but then you hear it. A very soft rumble that sounds suspiciously like a groan, so faint as to be almost imperceptible, and your brows promptly take an expedient trip up to your hairline. Was he alright in there? 

“Dan Heng?” You try again, a little louder this time. 

Still, he doesn’t respond and you don’t dare raise your voice any more than that, so you decisively reach for the handle to yank it open. If he had a problem with it then you’d happily apologize for intruding upon his space like this, but you weren’t going to pretend like you hadn’t heard anything. If he was sick or somehow injured in there you’d never be able to forgive yourself for walking away. 

With a sharp little clatter, the door slides open in a rush and the first thing you’re immediately struck by is the smell. It’s not bad per say, just strong and cloying, like incense almost. Except there is no telltale smoke lingering in the air, nor is there any apparent source for it as far as you can see. The heady rush to your olfactory system slams into you like a brick and you stumble slightly, hand coming up to brace on the doorway to steady yourself while creeping concern rushes into the forefront of your mind. 

The second thing you notice are the small plates and empty glasses neatly stacked up on the corner of the data bank’s control panel, and you understand that that must mean he’s been sneaking out at some point to grab food from the mess hall. You’re not sure when he’s found the chance to creep around while completely avoiding detection when it seemed like someone was always up doing something somewhere on the Express. If it wasn’t you and March fooling around then it was Pompom cleaning or Welt going for one of his daily strolls through the train cars to get his exercise in. How in the world had he avoided being seen for almost a whole week now? 

The third and final thing you notice is that even at your sudden entrance into his room, Dan Heng still doesn’t give any kind of response and in fact seems not to even notice his area has been rudely intruded upon at all. It’s not hard to figure out why that was though, and a shocked little gasp rattles inside your chest as you lift a hand to your mouth. 

Back towards the corner of the shelves where Dan Heng usually kept his simple roll out bed, he’d amassed a small nest of pillows and blankets which he was currently laid out on top of. The fact he’s completely naked isn’t even the most surprising part, although that does catch you decidedly unawares for how unexpected it is. What really registers in your dumbstruck mind as alarming though are the faint, nearly translucent appendages sprouting out of his backside and his head, clearly visible to the eye and yet not fully formed in reality. 

In a far off, dreamy sort of way you recognize them as being physical traits of his other form, the other Dan Heng you’d seen only twice before, but you don’t understand how that could be, or why. He still looks like his usual self otherwise, his dark, fluffy soft hair short rather than long and silken. His ears were also rounded like a humans, too, rather than pointed. 

Just what the hell was going on here? 

Jittery and awkward, you self consciously close the door behind you so no one else can happen by and see him in such a brazen state of undress. You’re already feeling guilty enough about barging in here as it is without adding any more people into the equation. 

In truth you’re not even entirely sure what you’re doing now as you carefully step across the room to approach him, wondering if perhaps you should have just quietly excused yourself and returned to your room for the night. There’s an insistent tug of concern pulling on your gut though and, keeping your footsteps light so as not to startle him too badly, you shuffle up to his little mound of bedding. This is so far removed from what you’d expected to find in coming here that you can’t even really make sense of what he’s doing until you watch him shudderingly flex his hips in a slow, savory grind that drags his leaking cock over the mass of fabric bunched underneath him, the spectral length of his tail flicking aggressively through the air. 

That manages to stop you dead in your tracks and you just stare down at him for a harrowingly long beat, cheeks burning hot enough to cook an egg on. 

Oh. So that’s what he was doing. 

“Dan Heng? A - are you alright?” 

He jolts at the sound of your voice so very close to him, sucking in a painfully sharp breath as he shoves up to twist around and look back at you. Wide eyed and flushed, he just stares in bewildered silence as if he simply couldn’t make any sense of what he was seeing and you honestly couldn’t blame him for that. You were having a hard time wrapping your head around this too. 

“Wh - … what are you doing here?” He finally whispers, his voice throaty and gruff with a masculine edge you’d never heard from him before. 

Nervously shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you have to make a conscious effort not to look at his upturned backside even though he was still laying sprawled out over top of all those blankets, like some ancient god of myth at leisurely rest. Out of respect for him, of course, and not because you were so deeply embarrassed by what you’d walked in on. 

“I was just worried about you so I … I wanted to come check that you were okay. We haven’t seen you in a while. I’m sorry for, uh, interrupting.” 

His dark brows slowly draw inward, creating a wretched little wrinkle between them when he heaves a frustrated breath out through his mouth. “You shouldn’t be in here right now. I’m not feeling very up to entertaining anyone at the moment. You’ve caught me at a bad time, I’m afraid.” 

You think that must be the understatement of the century but you don’t say that, a little too transfixed on the not quite solid horns that are coming out of his head. “I can see that. Are you alright? I’ve never seen you like this before.” 

“And I’d planned to keep it that way.” He groggily murmurs, making it clear to you now that this was indeed the Dan Heng you were used to if he could still think up smarmy little quips to toss around, but the slowed speech and vague slur in his voice almost makes it sound like he’s drunk. 

You’re nearly certain that’s not what’s going on here though, and you cautiously kneel down next to him on the floor to look at him head on. “Can you tell me what’s happening?” 

Drawing a slow, tortured breath in through his nose, Dan Heng haltingly fists his hands in the rumpled ball of sheets underneath him as if to physically hold himself in check. “I’d rather not but you’re already here so I suppose I may as well. To be honest I’m not even sure if you’re going to believe me but … as you know by now I’m a Vidyadhara, yes? Well, it’s because of that. I’ve gone into a kind of rut.” 

You wrack your brain for a moment, trying to recall  the meaning of that word. “As in — for mating? But I thought - -“ 

“I know.” He cuts you off with a low, tortured hiss, fingers painfully clenching in the sheets as his not quite material dragon's tail irritably whips a frustrated arc through the air. “But just because we can’t reproduce it doesn’t mean the biological functionality completely stops working too. If you, for example, were infertile that doesn’t necessarily equate to the total loss of your menses. You may still have a period even if fertilization is impossible.” 

Your mouth drops open in abject shock to gape at him as if he’s just grown a second head. What the — 

“How do you know about that?” 

Dan Heng scoffs a quiet little laugh, pinning you with a very strained, very sweaty look. “Please. Do you really think I can’t smell it? My nose is sharper than yours so I always know when you, or March or even Miss Himeko are going through your cycles. In fact …” 

He trails off, shuttered blue eyes sliding to the side with a vaguely guilty look, or at least that’s what you think it is. 

Your curiosity is piqued though, and you find yourself attentively leaning forward to hang off his every word. “In fact what? Tell me, Dan Heng. Please?” 

“Well, it’s just,” Still hesitating, he stiffly tries to rouse himself from his prone position on top of the nest he’s made but he seems to have trouble making his limbs cooperate. Seething a dull hiss of frustration, he reluctantly sinks back down to hang his head low between his faintly trembling shoulders, trying to steady his breath. “It’s a shameful thing to admit out loud, but I can smell everything. When you’re on your period and … when you’re ovulating too. I know when you’re at your most fertile and I — unfortunately I think my biological cues may have synced up with yours.” 

The full weight of that information is so crushing that it almost leaves you feeling numb in the wake of such an unexpected bombshell. He was synced up with you and not anyone else? 

Somewhat shyly bringing your hand up to protectively curl it over your stomach, you flounder for something even remotely intelligent to say to that. “Does that mean … you’re like this because of me right now?” 

“It’s not your fault.” He insists, forcing his face back up to look over at you, offering his best attempt at a reassuring smile. “I’m not sure why it happened with you and not the others, but sometimes these things just happen. I’ll be alright so please don’t worry about me. It’s okay if you want to go back to your room now.” 

You know that’s his polite way of saying ‘please go back to your room’ so he can deal with this on his own, and you’re almost compelled to listen without stopping long enough to question it when you were feeling more than a bit out of sorts yourself. But something makes you hesitate, a small frown tugging at your mouth now as you look him over again. Naked as he is, you can clearly see that every inch of him is coated in a fine sheen of sweat that makes his creamy skin glisten slightly under the overhead lights, like he was burning up from within. That probably half explained his lack of clothes. 

The other reason must surely be his stiff cock which, even though you’d tried very hard not to look at it over the last few minutes, you can’t help but notice hasn’t flagged at all while the two of you were talking. He must have been in an awful physical state then if being walked in on like this hadn’t deterred his body in the slightest. And to think this was all because of you, intentionally or not. 

It’s almost impossible not to feel at least a little guilty about it, yes, but even putting that aside you felt strangely inclined to help him. Regardless of any personal responsibility you held here, he was still your friend wasn’t he? That warranted at least an attempt, you quickly decide. 

Determined and vindicated in equal measure, you nudge closer to him on the floor rather than getting up to leave, and that clearly surprises him a great deal. Stammering a soft sound of fluster, Dan Heng visibly recoils from the hand you reach out with but he still can’t seem to find the strength to truly pull away and put some (no doubt much needed) distance between you and him. Your fingers touch his shoulder, gently at first and then more firmly when all he does is suck in a ragged inhale, staring at you in wide eyed confusion. 

His stiffly locked frame only puts up a cursory amount of resistance when you carefully guide him over to his side and then further onto his back where he can questionly peer up at you without having to crane his neck around. It also allows his cock to spring up from his body to stand straight in the air, wobbling slightly as if to indicate his uncertainty. You feel a little uncertain too, looking at it like that, but you remind yourself to stay focused as you cautiously reach out as if to grab him. 

“Wait.” He hisses, snagging your wrist to stop its forward motion. “What are you doing? This is - -“ 

“I just want to help you. This will make you feel better, right?” 

“You —!” Seething through tightly clenched teeth, Dan Heng squeezes his eyes shut as if to reign in his self control and ground himself before he goes on. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn’t something for you to take care of.” 

Your heart wrenches slightly at that. “Why not?” 

“Our body’s aren’t built the same, for starters. When Vidyadhara mate it isn’t … it’s not something for humans to experience.” 

Feeling his hand quake slightly where it’s still grasping onto your arm, you take a moment to thoughtfully drag your attention across his bare body. “You look pretty human to me.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” Clicking his tongue, he rolls his head back against the mass of blankets to look elsewhere, evidently anywhere else but at you. Guilty, or perhaps ashamed. “You saw the eggs in Scalegorge Waterscape, didn’t you?” 

For a horribly long stretch you’re not quite sure what to say to that while your mind frantically trips over that information. You were learning so much about the dragon species, none of which you’d thought to know before now, and it’s a difficult thing to fully wrap your head around it. Surely he wasn’t implying that … 

You send another cautious glance at his cock, still flushed and excessively weeping from the tip. “You mean those huge eggs came out of there?” 

“What? No. Not like that.” His chest slowly expanding with the deep, wavering breath he sucks in, Dan Heng rouses himself enough to lift his neck so he can look at you again. Sending you a guarded look, he roves his attention down to peer over himself and you follow his lead, watching him slowly bring his opposite hand up to loosely curl the fingers around his shaft. “At one time female Vidyadhara did lay eggs during the reproduction cycle but … hnng, now we’re just shooting blanks, for lack of a better term. It’s too complicated to explain right now but — even these small eggs that haven’t been incubated to maturity are still too large for your body to easily take. I appreciate your concern but - -“ 

“No.” You cut him off, using your best tone of stern reprimand to make his attention flick back up. “I want to help you, Dan Heng, and that’s what I’m going to do. Not to make up for something I didn’t even realize I was doing but because you’re my friend. I don’t like seeing you like this. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

Full on groaning now, he once again tips head back while he stiffly twitches there on the floor, the hand around his cock giving it a tight, desperate squeeze as if to dissuade his impending release. You watch in rapt fascination as a fat, glistening bead of clear discharge surfaces on the tip of him where it hovers for a static moment before slowly oozing down the side of his length. It’s clearly taking everything he has to keep his self control in check instead of letting himself get caught up in those rioting urges, and you think it all the more admirable of him. Something told you not many men could keep such a tight leash on the instinctive, hard coded urge to breed like this. 

But that’s all the more reason why Dan Heng deserved your help, wasn’t it? How long had he been suffering like this all alone? Was it always this bad or was your presence just one room over making it worse for him? Even if he seemed sure that your body couldn’t reasonably handle it, you still had to try. 

Letting him keep his hold on your arm where he’s still clutching it in an iron fist, you bring your opposite hand up to carefully touch fingertips to his tense thigh. He jolts so hard you almost think you’ve electrocuted him via static shock, but he just groans all the harder instead of moving to push you away. The tail that isn’t really there lashes out across the floor to whip another serpentine arc before curling inward to almost possessively wrap around your waist. 

That nearly manages to startle you, especially when you realize you can feel a faint hint of contact despite its immaterial nature. It’s so light and distant that you idly wonder if you’re only imagining the vague sensation of fleshy scales pressing into you but you quickly decide it’s as good a sign as any. Although his hold around your middle was loose and tentative, he wasn’t pushing you away and you take that as your sign to keep going. 

So you slide your fingers higher on a sure and steady trajectory, caressing over Den Heng’s shuddering hip to join him in taking hold of his weakly twitching length. While he holds the base tight enough to make his knuckles turn white, you gently wrap your hand around the top half to feel the sticky smear of discharge on your palm. His stomach flexes so dramatically with the tortured gasp he sucks in that this, too, nearly makes you second guess yourself. 

But the more you linger there touching him, the more he seems to slip into the heady daze that fogs his mind. You can see it clearly in the darkening flush that stains his cheekbones, the excess of sweat pouring out of him, and the heavy lidded quality of his eyes. He really did look drunk, if you were being honest. 

And finally he lets out a threadbare, needy little sound as his gaze unsteadily comes up to peer over at you again. You can tell he wants to give in, needs to find an outlet for these mind numbing urges that are clearly wreaking havoc on his body, but he still has misgivings about going through with this. You steadily meet his gaze though, trying to silently impart upon him that you were serious and you wouldn’t be going anywhere until something has been done about this. 

The moment the scales start to tip is reflected in his glistening eyes, as clear as day, and he at last wheezes a softly rattling breath into the air. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“Positive. Just walk me through it.” 

“Oohhn … then — take off your clothes. All of them. So we don’t soil them.”

His fingers tremble fiercely when he pries them off you, giving you your freedom to lean back and get to work. You don’t think you’ve ever undressed quite so quickly in your entire life, and the warm pulse of excitement you feel low in your gut now almost surprises you. It’s not so strange though, you think, tossing everything aside piece by piece into a messy pile. As he’d already pointed out, you were in the middle of ovulating so your pussy was feeling extra sensitive and gooey anyway, and the close proximity of his naked body coupled with that oddly cloying smell in the air was only making it worse. 

Your nipples are already standing up in stiff, aching points by the time you get the final layer of your bra tugged off, and you shudder sensitively at the sensation of them cutting through the air as much as at Dan Heng’s heated stare burning into your bare skin. Settling in next to him once again, you anxiously look for him for his next instruction. 

“What now?” 

“I’ll have to — prep you first before we can go any further. Like I said, your body isn’t … made for this kind of reproduction. My spend won’t have anywhere to go if I take you here.” Listlessly curling his hand towards you, Dan Heng nudges the pad of one blocky finger between your thighs to pointedly touch your cunt. You suck in a frazzled breath at the contact for as brief as it is, eyes widening slightly at him, but he just continues on. “And we’ll only make a big mess when all is said and done. I’m going to do my best to make it pleasurable for you too though.”

Stiltedly nodding your head, you eagerly scoot even closer until your knee brushes against his thigh. “I trust you. What should I do?” 

“Come here.” 

At the deliberate nudge of his hand, you carefully push up to lean over him. You’re not quite sure what to do with your hands, a little worried about hurting him if you were to brace your weight along his abdomen, so you stretch further out to brace against the sheets on either side. Panting softly now, Dan Heng brings his hands up to work them under your arms so he can nudge you further up against him. The motion tugs you off balance enough that you slip forward to lay out across the front of him, squeaking a tiny little sound of surprise when he insistently pulls you closer to his face. 

Once he’s got you situated on his chest, he cranes his neck up to catch your mouth with his in a tentative, experimental kiss. An intense shudder works through you despite how gentle and fleeting the sensation is, moaning a quiet sound into his lips as you slowly melt into him. He was a surprisingly good kisser … 

That careful push and pull encourages you to relax on top of him and it doesn’t take long for you to notice your pussy starting to ooze eager slick in response to his steady ministrations. It’s surprising, in a way, how readily your body reacts to him, but you don’t stop long enough to truly question it. 

Clearly feeling when your natural defenses start to come down, Dan Heng lets his hands wander over your shoulders and further down to caress along your ribs, your waist and then your hips. Even when his need was so great you could feel it coursing through him and vibrating like an active livewire, he still takes his time with it to warm you up, ensuring you were truly ready before he begins in earnest. 

It’s only when you finally start to get a little antsy, fidgeting against his body, do you finally feel something soft and vaguely wet nudge at your cunt. So dazed and caught up in the moment, you don’t even think to question it at first when you were just glad that he was touching you there at all. But then you realize both of his hands are still roaming over your back to squeeze and grope at love handles, tugging you even further against him, and you don’t think it’s his cock either … 

Forcing yourself to pull away from his mouth with a warbling sound of confusion, you twist around to peer back behind you in search of the source. At first you can’t quite make sense of what you’re seeing, that shuddering incandescent specter moving sedately between your thighs in a decidedly snake-like manner. And then it takes another gentle swipe at you, running from the starting seam of your cunt straight up to the wrinkled pucker of your asshole, and you outright jolt. 

It wasn’t his tail which had protectively curled itself around your calves, but something else entirely. 

“Wh - -“

“Don’t worry. It's just some of my power leaking out.” He murmurs, pulling your attention back around. 

“You mean like … the horns and tail?” 

Offering a stiff nod, Dan Heng slides his hands forward along your ribcage to gently nudge you into sitting up just enough to lift your tits from his chest. A deeply ruffled, shuddering exhale slips out of you when he redirects them around to grope at you, offering your breasts a careful squeeze that makes the nipples drag over his calloused palms. It almost makes you sway there on top of him, moaning a lilting sound into the air. 

While he diligently plays with your chest, pinching and tweaking at the sensitive buds to make them ache, you can feel that — immaterial tentacle working to spread your cunt open. You can’t think of anything else to call it when it was long and very reminiscent of a curling snake, wriggling around as if with a mind of its own behind you. And when it at last manages to nudge up against your entrance where it ever so slowly begins to push inside, you outright choke on a half stifled gasp. 

Although it wasn’t nearly as firm and real as Dan Heng is underneath you, there was still a certain tangible quality to it that leaves you trembling at the staggered stretch it puts on your guts. You have a split second, delirious thought that this must be what it feels like to be penetrated by a ghost, but the thought abruptly cuts off when he bends his face close to snag one of your nipples in his mouth. 

Tossing your head back to keen up at the ceiling, you stiffly hang there in the balance while he suckles your straining teat to heightened sensitivity and the spectral manifestation of his Vidyadhara power gradually worms its way into your body. Alarm almost registers in your hazy mind when you realize how good it actually feels being pulled between the two equally unrelenting forces, but you don’t get the chance to linger on it for very long. 

That not quite there tentacle shudders and wriggles inside you to make more room for itself so it can reach further in, steadily stuffing your cunt full until your toes start to painfully curl. It doesn’t exactly hurt yet it’s an exceedingly strange sensation to wrap your head around when it almost felt like your pussy was stretching open around nothing at all. There’s no resistance, barely any sense of friction, and you finally give in to the urge to mindlessly writhe, pushing back on the presence behind you with a faltering moan. 

Dan Heng softly shushes you, taking a quick, savory nip at your fattened nipple before turning his head to switch to the other. At the same time, the tentacle starts to move in earnest, carefully thrusting its long, squirming length in and out to make your pussy wetly click. Frantically clutching at his broad shoulders, you quickly give yourself over to that insistent pressure and roll your hips into it, outright quaking with pleasure. 

You’re so caught up in it, in fact, that you almost don’t even notice a second snaking tendril coming up to deliberately nudge at your clit. Issuing a startled little squeak at the unexpected sensation, you stiffly lurch forward as if to lift your hips and escape its attack, but Dan Heng holds you tight. There’s no way for you to wiggle yourself free like this and you have no choice but to sit there and take it, juddering uncontrollably while the pressure in you rapidly swells. 

Your first orgasm hits you almost embarrassingly fast, helpless to do anything else except cum when you were being relentlessly tweaked and sucked, and fucked from both ends. Clenching your teeth to stop the frantic wail rising in your throat, you viciously seethe and ride out the mercilessly crashing waves of your release while your pussy spasms around what amounts to nothing. It’s enough to almost have your eyes rolling back in your head, and you drunkenly sway on top of him when the high finally starts to dwindle a long stretch of moments later. 

Left raggedly panting in the aftermath, all you can do is bonelessly sink into him with a warm, content little groan of satisfaction. The spot between your legs feels like an even goopier mess than before, all warm and sticky, and stuffed full. But then, to your shuddering disappointment, the tentacle starts to pull out of you with a slimy wriggle, dragging the sensation of copious arousal right to your entrance where it finally slips free with a noisy squelch. 

Sensitively twitching at the sound, you quietly groan under your breath as you peer down into Dan Heng’s face when he finally releases your aching teat from his mouth. Both have been left flushed and swollen in the wake of his attention, and they fleshily drag across his chest as you lean down to kiss him again, which he happily reciprocates. 

He’s left you in such a deeply gratified state that you’ve almost forgotten why you were even doing this in the first place, so punchdrunk on fast pumping endorphins and the intoxicating smell of him that you could have easily dozed off right then and there. 

But then, to your surprise, he pulls back just enough to speak against your lips, murmuring a soft, “Don’t tense up. Just relax into it.” 

Rousing slightly from your comfortable daze, you start to question him but the words catch in your throat when you suddenly feel that tentacle — still coated in sticky, vicious slick — swiping over your asshole to coat it in the clinging discharge. A mildly horrified tremor works through you, and you suck in a rough gasp as you start to push up, but Dan Heng holds you tight to stop it. 

“It’s okay, I promise.” He soothes you, trying to keep his voice light and reassuring despite the eager inflection. “I know this probably isn’t ideal for you but it’s the best way to do this, trust me. I’m not going to hurt you. Take a deep breath.” 

That’s easy enough for him to say, but it’s much harder for you to listen to reason when that ghostly tendril behind you was insistently circling the rim of your hole to ensure it was thoroughly lubricated on the outside. Your heart feels like it’s going to jackhammer straight out of your chest as you fidget on top of him, trying in vain to angle your backside away but it’s no use. The smooth, vaguely fleshy tip just follows after you and insistently presses in on the center wrinkle, putting enough pressure on the muscle to make it slowly start to give. 

“W - wait, that’s - -!” 

He shushes you again, raggedly panting underneath you while the tentacle squirms and wriggles its way into your body to just dip past the inner rim of your entrance. The sensation of your sphincter relenting to grant it entry almost registers in your mind like a distant pop and you lurch in place, woundedly groaning as it starts to steadily reach in deeper now that it’s past that initial barrier. 

At the same time the second tendril on your aching clit continues to gently swipe back and forth over the sensitized pleasure button as if to soothe and comfort you. It doesn’t really work though when you were being penetrated from behind like this, helplessly juddering as you're gradually forced to take more and more. And it’s the same as it had been when it was your cunt being stretched open around something that wasn’t actually there, your ass opening up around what tangibly feels like nothing. 

It’s a struggle to make any sense of it or comprehend the full scope of what’s actually happening, your mouth hanging open on an overwhelmed, silent scream. It feels like too much for your body to handle, especially when it gradually begins to move in a slow motion thrust that just tests the give of your inner sleeve to ensure you wouldn’t tear. 

“Nnghn, D - Dan Heng, I can’t - -“ 

“I know. I'm sorry. Just bear with it a little longer, alright? I promise it’ll be over soon.” 

Not soon enough, you think, seething through the odd discomfort that comes with being penetrated like this. It doesn’t exactly hurt when the wriggling tentacle was smooth and narrow enough not to put too much strain on your weakly fluttering guts, but it’s something you’re not used to and you’re not quite sure how to relax into it. Every time you try your ass just hollowly contracts around its slim girth, forced to stay wedged open despite the desperate clench of muscle. Even worse is the fact you can feel your cunt steadily drooling yet more eager slick in response to the unfamiliar stimulation, somehow still not at all deterred even now. 

All you can do is endure it over the next odd minutes while he takes his time carefully making sure your hole is loosened enough for whatever he planned to do next. Given what he’d said about eggs earlier you had some ideas, of course, but you’re a little too caught up in the total onslaught to your body to think that far back. The only thing you were conceivably aware of in that moment was the longer that tentacle squirms around inside your ass the more excited you got. 

It doesn’t even really make any sense, in all actuality, and yet you don’t think to protest when it finally starts to slide out of you, dragging against your guts until it can slip completely out of your weakly clenching entrance. You sway dizzily at the sensation of your ass swollen and puffy, prepped to accept something bigger, yet say nothing against it when Dan Heng manages to gather enough energy to push up on his elbows and carefully slide you down next time in the nest of sheets. 

Moving gingerly slow, he crawls over top of you and stretches out to grab something just over your head. Blinking dazedly, you tip your head to see what he’s doing only to feel a pang of surprise when you realize he’s grabbing a small bottle of proper lubricant that was half hidden behind the corner of the shelf. So he hadn’t needed to use your own pussy slick to - -

“Sorry.” He murmurs, sounding truly apologetic as he pulls back enough to flip the little cap open. “I got so caught up in the moment that I was just doing what felt natural but … I realized this wasn’t going to work without the proper tools. You’re too tight.” 

You’re not sure how you possibly manage to blush under these circumstances, but you find yourself pinning him with a flustered scowl all the same. “Next time I’ll make sure to prep before I come to your room then.” 

Dan Heng hesitates at that, sending a briefly concealed look from under the fringe of his sweat matted bangs, and you quickly snap your mouth shut when you realize what you’d just said. Was there really going to be a next time? And would you really take the time to properly prepare for it? 

You don’t know about that just yet, but as you watch him carefully gather your knees under his arms so he can lean forward and bend you in half to leave your cunt and ass fully exposed to him, you think you might. Not only did he look frustratingly good hovering over you like this, all covered in sweat and tense with aching anticipation, but the heavy bob of his cock between your legs … even if this wasn’t exactly what you’d envisioned it was still undeniably exciting. 

“Scoot a little lower, if you can.” 

Letting out a shuddering breath, you comply with an eager wriggle that nudges you further into the space between his braced knees. It forces your legs into a deeper bend too, nearly bringing them right down to your chest, and you hold your breath as he brings the bottle down to squirt a healthy dollop over your waiting pucker. 

You hiss softly at the cool sensation, fidgeting restlessly underneath him, but Dan Heng stays focused on the task at hand. After setting the lube aside where it wasn’t likely to get knocked over, he reaches back down to loosely curl his fingers around the shaft so he can guide it towards your entrance. 

“I’m going to stick it in now.” He warns, groaning so heavily you almost can’t make out what he’s saying. “Just tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop to give you a break but — ooughhn, I don’t think this is going to take very long.” 

A violent shudder works through him, nearly bowling him over right on the spot as he sensitively lurches over you. It’s like his hips have a mind of their own now and they stiffly flex, pushing closer to you on a steady trajectory guided by his shaking hand. The fleshy glans presses into your waiting ass, your breath catching in your throat at the stark difference between this and the spectral tentacle. He’s firm and warm, and alive against you, and your pussy positively weeps when he starts to cautiously push in. 

The raised rim of your entrance readily accepts him, much to your gasping surprise, spreading open under the pressure to cling to the glans and then the shaft, and then more of the shaft until he’s sheathed half of the way inside you on a single, stilted thrust. This is very different from before and you wildly shudder at the full brunt of this kind of penetration, helplessly squirming on his cock where he’s got you impaled. 

He doesn’t seem to be doing much better than you as he hovers there for a long moment, just trying to ground himself by the looks of it. But he seems to be losing the fight and he screws his eyes shut with a ragged, almost painful hiss as he leans into you to settle his weight and let gravity do the rest of the work. The resulting, tortuously stilted slide of his flesh along your inner sleeve has your legs uselessly twitching in the air, yet you make no attempt to stop him or his inward push. 

All at once he’s pressed flush against your vulnerably upturned cheeks, and he immediately succumbs to the potent rush of sensation mixed with the overwhelming flood of pheromones that abruptly grabs him in a chokehold. Painfully stiff and halting, Dan Heng snarls a low sound of deeply felt pleasure while his body trembles and his cock wildly flexes inside you. 

At first you’re not entirely sure what you’re feeling, that incredibly hot, sticky surge inside your ass that seems to shoot almost uncomfortably deep. In a far off, dreamy sort of way you do realize he’s cumming, and you can’t really hold it against him when he’d been suffering this whole time without relief. Letting him deposit his thick load in your ass only seemed like the least you could do. 

But then you feel a strange sensation, a deep throb from him that makes your cunt squeeze tight and clench around nothing. It pulses once, twice, three times — getting stronger and more attention grabbing with each repetition — until on the fourth you feel something solid pass from him to you. 

It’s not very big, he’d been right about that, evidently, but it’s noticeable enough to alarm you, and your eyes widen up at him in utter disbelief. He’d been serious about the eggs? Was he — was Dan Heng really depositing a clutch of eggs into your guts? 

You almost don’t believe it, your dumbstruck thoughts screeching to a sudden and immediate standstill as you just lie there, staring up at him in perplexed silence while he uncontrollably shudders. He’s too caught up in it to look back at you though, heaving through the spasming throb when it starts up again. One, two, three — and on the fourth you once again feel a fat little something push into you. 

Finally rousing from your shock enough to noise a horrified sound, you fumble to push yourself upright but there’s nowhere for you to go. He’s got you so thoroughly pinned underneath him in this position that you’d have to untangle your limbs before you could even think about scuttling away. Seething viciously through your teeth, you just look down at the spot between your legs where his dark, curly pubic hair tangles with yours, wishing you could see what was happening. 

Again and again, one right after another, those deep pulses start up and he just keeps steadily filling you over the next few minutes until you start to understand why he couldn’t do this in your pussy. He was right about that too, you’re more than a bit chagrined to find, and you think you probably would have laughed if only you’d had the oxygen to do so. 

By the time the throbbing flex of his cock finally starts to slow down there are so many eggs in you that you not only feel them pushing in much too deep on your guts to be comfortable, but you can also see the distention of your stomach where they were forcing it out just enough to create a little pouch. In total you’d counted at least twenty, but you’d stopped keeping track at a certain point when your reeling mind simply couldn’t take it anymore. You’d never seen anything like it, never felt anything like it, and the worst part was by far the way all that insistent pressure on your inner sleeve made your pussy feel so painfully empty. 

And finally, when you’re not so sure you can take much more, Dang Heng at last wheezes a deeply relieved sound, going slack and boneless over top of you while he gasps for air. It takes him a very long moment to start recovering, and he gingerly eases back to carefully slip his rapidly softening cock out of you. The way he grimaces and whines softly under his breath seems to suggest it’s quite sore and sensitive in the aftermath, which doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, considering. 

But what does surprise you is when he at last slips free and you feel something pop right out of you, chasing after him. Your sphincter is much too stretched and loosened to stop it, and your eyes widen to the approximate size of dinner plates when you desperately try to crane your neck up enough to see what it is. 

“I’m so sorry.” He groans, sucking in a faltering inhale while he too tips his face down to look. 

Managing to get your upper body elevated enough with no shortage of effort when your stomach felt so strangely round and heavy, you come to a sudden, jolting stop when you glance between his legs. 

Sitting unassuming on the rumpled sheets is an egg. An honest to god egg. No bigger than the chicken variety Pompom occasionally used to make breakfast with, when they had the supply for it, and it was still coated in a sticky viscosity that makes you feel dizzy. That’s what was inside of you? But … but there were so many, and Dan Heng had just transferred them all to you through his cock? 

You shoot the appendage in question a disbelieving look, unsurprised to find it soft and tender now, at complete odds with the almost aggressive erection he’d had when you first walked in. No wonder he was totally exhausted and spent after that. And next it would be your turn to labor through the process of birthing them all, one by one until there was nothing left except an empty, hollow void inside of you where his clutch had once resided. It was an incredibly staggering thought to wrap your head around, but it was also a frankly impressive one too. 

So this was how the Vidyadhara used to mate …

⭐

Crossposted: here

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! 🥳🎈🎂🎁

“What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?" with Kid (fem!reader, NSFW) pretty please? <3

Hello, anon! Thank you for the birthday wishes (it feels weird still thanking birthday wishes when it's been more than a month!). Thank you so much for your request, it turned out to be one of my favourites! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it!

Art: Here; Artist: @wesaier (pleeeease follow, such amazing art!)

Reverence 🔞

Word Count: 6302

Tags: Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Kid has both arms; Posessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Reverent!Kid; Fluff and Romance; Love Confessions; Body Worship; Just Worship in general; NSFW; MDNI; Fingering; Vaginal Penetration; Oops, no protection (wrap it up, peeps);

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You and Kid are neighbours and very good friends. You flirt a lot, all in good fun, obviously, and he makes fun of every single one of your loser dates. When the last date goes south and you call Kid for help, will your relationship blosom into something else?

|Masterlist|

The clock’s nearly at the hour, but you're almost ready anyway, just some finishing touches on your hair and makeup, and you'll be done. “I look hot.” You say as a pep talk to your reflection and do a little twirl. Hot dress, nice makeup, perfect hair, you're ready for a nice date in town. 

And you're more than ready for it to end up with a nice, hot lay. Third-date rule be damned to hell. You've been in the longest dry spell since forever, and your toys aren't quite cutting it at the moment, but the dating scene isn't really offering the best choice of male specimens around. Maybe this time you'll get lucky. 

Just as the clock turns to the hour, the doorbell rings. You give yourself one last nod before heading out of the bathroom and opening the door with a bright smile. One that immediately falls at the sight that greets you. 

“Kid?”

“Well, well, well. Look at ye, all dolled up for a night in town? Another one of yer charity cases ye insist on callin’ dates?”

A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, but you don't fully smile, instead you cock your head to the side and place a hand on your hip. “Hey, at least I get out of the house, you big hermit.” 

You’ve known Kid for almost a year, since you moved into the building. He looks menacing and gruff with all his ear piercings, huge size, and spiky red hair, but you suspect he's a big softie on the inside. You and he flirt and banter like there's no tomorrow and, admittedly, he's been the star of a few of your fantasies, but neither of you has decided to take things further. Perhaps because living in the same building has every chance of making it awkward if things go wrong. Still, you're good friends. 

He owns a mechanic’s garage and has saved your ass more times than you can count. Be it because of car troubles, leaking faucets, or visiting snakes - yes, that’s happened. He’s always there for you, and he’s the first person you go to when you’re in trouble. You have thought of him with more fondness than you would for a normal friend, but just like you two never pushed the limits of your friendship for sex, you wouldn’t even consider bending them for romantic involvement. 

“What are ye yappin’ about? I just got in! Been working till now.”

He moves past you and makes himself comfortable on your couch, manspreading while you search around for the perfect pair of heels to complement your dress. 

“All work and no play, Kid? No wonder you're no fun. Hey, do these work?” You strut around in the highest pair of heels you own, ones that make your legs go on for days. Kid's eyes follow you around as he focuses on your shoes, then his eyes follow your legs, bum - you give him a few poses so he can judge - chest, and finally settles on your face. His eyes seem darker, and there's no hint of his usual smirk on his lips. 

Clearing his throat, he averts his gaze with just the barest flush on his cheeks. “They work alright. Maybe too good.” He mutters. “Who’s the asshole?” Kid checks his watch and grins. “He's already ten minutes late, are you sure he's worth it? Don't even put up the effort.”

“Maybe he got lost?” You try, with a heavy sigh. It’s a setup date. A work friend's cousin or something like that. He's hot, and today that's all that really matters. 

“Aye, aye. Ye do know how to pick’em. Ye always choose the random losers to go out on dates.” He lets out a loud, barking laugh. “I told ye before, I’ll say it again: ye don’t need to leave the building if ye want company. I’m right here, lass.”

His cocky smirk is endearing, and that familiar warmth that comes from his flirting and all the attention he spares you always manages to make you smile like a silly little girl, but just before you manage to answer him, the doorbell rings again

“Oh, it's him. Kid, get out.” Kid sighs and gets up, standing behind you with an intimidating stance as you open the door. “Hi! I was afraid you weren't going to show up.” You try to lighten the mood with a small giggle, and Kid mutters something behind you. Your date smiles widely, barely notices Kid, and openly stares at you, taking you in head to toe. 

“Well, the photo my cousin showed does not do you justice. Had I known, I would've come faster.” Oh, God. Is he really going to be just another asshole? You can already feel it. 

Kid growls behind you and steps out of your apartment, making sure your date acknowledges his presence now, but you continue speaking, trying to defuse the situation. “This is my friend, Kid. He was just leaving.” You emphasise the last words and raise your brows at Kid, who merely grunts. “Shall we go?”

“Oi, lass, better take a coat, no?” Kid’s scowl deepens as he gives you another once-over, clearly catching all the ogling your date is giving you. 

“Don't worry, friend, I'll make sure she stays warm.” 

And before Kid says - or does - anything to your date before it even has the chance to start, you push him down the hallway so he can go to his house. “Bye, Kid. Don't wait up.”

-*-

The date sucks. Your date is obnoxious, self-centred, arrogant, and a downright prick. By dessert, you're dying to go home. His conversations are dull, and he barely lets you speak, instead filling every opportunity with something remarkable about himself. 

Plus, he makes you split the bill. 

When you make it outside the restaurant, he sets his hand on your lower back, and you warm a bit, thinking he's about to pull you close and trade places with you, obeying the sidewalk rule like a gentleman. Instead, the prick gropes your ass. 

“Can you just take me home?” You grunt, clearly over this date, so he leads you to his car. 

-*-

Kid keeps tossing and turning in his bed. He needs to sleep. He has to get up early in the morning. But you're still not home. He doesn't mean to pry, but he always hears the soft clicks of your heels in the hallway and the setting of your lock in place when you enter your home. Only when he hears those sounds can he rest at ease. If not, he keeps wondering if you're alright, if you're hurt, if your prick of a date tried something, or worse… if you actually liked him and he's going to have to get used to seeing you with some other man who’s not him. 

A heavy sigh parts his lips, and he's wondering if he'll be able to get up in the morning if he indulges in a few glasses of scotch. He's considering taking his chances when his phone rings. It's you. Kid’s heart skips a beat, his head immediately considering all the possible wrong things that may have happened as he presses the green button to take your call. 

“Lass?” 

“Kid, thank God you're awake. My date's car broke down. Can you come and… fix it?”

What the fuck? 

“No! It's almost midnight, I'm not going there to fix his car so ye two can get laid. Grab a cab!” 

He's actually pissed you called just for that. Like he gives two shits about helping the asshole get laid. With you! 

“Kid… please, can you come?” Except there's something else in your voice, a vulnerability he's never heard before, almost as if you're scared of something, on edge. 

Has the bastard done something to you? 

“Send me yer location. Now.” He gets dressed in the blink of an eye, packing his pocket knife before leaving the house. 

-*-

You're so cold. No, that's putting it lightly, it literally feels like you're stranded in the North Pole. You should've just brought a jacket like Kid said. But then again, how could you have guessed you'd be standing in the gusting wind with nothing but your skimpy dress on? You were supposed to be inside a restaurant, then the car, and then, if everything went well, your house and your bed. 

But now, your date is inside the car with a bloody - probably broken - nose, cursing you, and you're outside with your pepper spray ready in hand in case the asshole tries anything else. 

After what feels like forever, you hear the loud rumbling of Kid's motorcycle and let out the biggest sigh of relief ever. Seconds later the headlights of his Harley Davidson shine on the curb and he stops the bike in front of you. As soon as he steps out and removes his helmet, his usual scowl turns into a full frown, teeth baring as he glances from you, to your hand, and to your prick of a date. Without a word, he removes his leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, helping you pass your arms through the sleeves. While he's zipping it up, he growls. “What the fuck happened?”

Still shivering, you sigh into the warmth of the jacket, inhaling Kid's familiar scent: metal, gasoline, and something musky that feels like home. Then you shrug and pout. “He got handsy. I don't like liberties, so I punched him.”

You can see Kid fighting off an amused smirk. “Ye broke his nose?”

“Just a little.” You whine. 

Kid looks at you, chin up and a full smirk on his lips now. Then he pats your head. “That's my girl.”

Just on cue, the asshole opens up his car door, and Kid grins at the sight. The prick’s eyes are already darkening with bruises, his nose looks crooked, and there are blood splatters all over him. 

“You the mechanic? Figured.” He scoffs. “Fix my car, then! I want to get out of here and away from that crazy bitch.”

You flinch and shake your head. That was a wrong move. If he thinks you're crazy, he's about to get a dose of Eustass Kid he won't forget. 

“Kid, there’s no need to hurt him anymore. I don’t want him to call the cops.”

Kid chuckles low, reaches into his pocket, and takes out his trusted pocket knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “Listen here, buddy.” Kid pins the man to his car with a mere look. The poor bloke nearly trips over his feet just to gain some distance. “When ye get home tonight, yer going to say a little prayer to whatever angel’s watchin’ over you, because if the lady - not a crazy bitch, ye asshole - didn't tell me not to hurt ye, ye’d leave here with a lot more than just a broken nose.” Kid laughs some more as he pulls back. “But I'll fix yer car, I'll fix it up real good.”

Popping the hood open, Kid starts cutting wires with his knife. You don't know shit about mechanics, but you’re pretty sure that cutting those wires isn’t going to make the car start. 

“Hey, hey! What are you doing? You're not fixing it!”

“No?” Kid closes the hood, drags the pocket knife along the side of the car, and slashes two tires. “Oops. Maybe I'm just not a very good mechanic.” Kid rounds the car and slashes the other two tires, stopping in front of the prick again. “But I'm not that bad. I'm goin’ to give ya two options, ye arse. One, ye stay in yer car ‘till mornin’ and try to get a tow to collect this piece of junk. Two, ye start walkin’ and pray you reach town by mornin’.”

“What?” The man asks, eyes wide and scared. 

“Oh, the important part. I'll be callin’ every shop around so they can refuse ye service, but they only open in the mornin’. So if ye want yer car fixed, better start walkin’ and pray ye reach a shop before I call ‘em.” 

“But, but… we're in the middle of nowhere! It'll take all night to get to town!” He whines, a trickle of blood still dripping from his crooked nose. “And I'm hurt!”

Kid leans in, his scowling face almost on top of the asshole, and you revel at the way he cowers in fear. “Should've thought of that before ye groped a feel, aye, bastard?” Then Kid pulls his fist back, and the man screams, but Kid just laughs at his cowardice, turns his back to him, and pockets his knife. “I'd start walkin’ if I were ye.”

You smirk as you hear the car lock and watch your failed date’s retreating form. 

“Thanks, Kid.” Your words are a mere mumble. You don't really want to admit that you should've just stayed home, like Kid told you to. But he merely grunts as he walks to his bike, plucking his helmet from the handlebars and placing it over your head with a soft pat. 

“Aye, lass.” His thick fingers reach beneath the helmet, grazing your skin as he fastens the strap tightly to fit your smaller head. The fierceness of his bronze gaze as he stares through the open visor makes you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold. With another grunt and a muffled curse, he hooks two fingers under the helmet and pulls you close, making you stumble and face him with wide-open eyes. “No more asshole dates. Got it?” His gaze burns into yours, and you nod just before he slams your visor down and lets go of the helmet. “Let's get out of here.”

As soon as he turns on the bike, revving the engine, you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks. You were acting tough and badass, but things could've gone terribly wrong tonight. You could've frozen instead of punching him; he could've manhandled you and forced you into whatever he wanted; instead of a bruised up ego, you could've ended up much worse. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you can’t seem to keep the tears away.

No one will see you cry anyway.

So you wrap your arms tight around Kid, your knees pressing into his sides as you fix your feet on the pegs. You're safe now. Kid has always brought you a sense of safety, even though you never really needed it before. That's why you called him tonight, not because he's a mechanic, but because you needed him. Not even to take care of the guy - you certainly did that - but just knowing he would come if you asked… that's everything. 

The ride is long until you get home, so you can cry it all out now. He won't notice.  

Except he does notice, because his big hand wraps around your knee, squeezing tightly and caressing it after. The soft gesture only makes you sob harder, so you hold him even tighter. 

You notice his heavy scowl when he tilts his head back. “Ye alright there, lass?” You try to speak, but if you open your mouth, you know that you'll only sob, so you just squeeze him tighter. Kid grunts and, after a moment, he slows down the bike and turns onto a smaller road, driving you to a secluded clearing surrounded by trees. 

As soon as the bike stops, you scramble to get off, unzip the jacket, leaving it open and fumble with the helmet strap, your fingers shaking like leaves. “Oi, oi, calm down, lass.” His fingers move swiftly as he helps you unstrap the helmet and sets it on the handlebars. “What's wrong?”

You shake your head, swallowing tears and wiping your face clean. Kid reaches out, hand in the air as he tries to cup your cheek, but you take a step back and bite your lower lip, stifling another sob. “I’m fine.” You mutter without meeting his gaze. Your voice wavers on the words, and you sound weak. “It’s nothing. I don’t need coddling.”

Kid scoffs slightly, his eyebrow raising as he takes a step back, giving you the space you clearly need. “Yer shakin’ like a damned leaf. Don’t need to act tough. It’s just me here.” The softness beneath his rough tone makes you want to cry harder, so you just nod. “Yer tough as steel, lass, I know that. But even steel gets bent now and then. And it's okay.”

Another tear escapes your eyes, and you swipe the sleeve of Kid’s jacket against your face, angrily, your shoulders squaring as you raise your chin, a humourless laugh escaping your lips, even though your eyes don’t meet his. “I guess I should’ve listened to you, huh? You kept telling me not to bother with random losers who don’t deserve me… and yet… I didn't listen.”

Your words carry all the weight of the world in them. Unspoken possibilities of ignored ‘what ifs’. If you had listened to Kid, would you feel less vulnerable? If you hadn’t dressed so provocatively, would the asshole still have tried something?

“Don’t go there, lass. Ye don’t gotta blame yerself for the actions of an arse.” His fingers inch forward, flexing and grasping at the air, like he wants to hold you or comfort you. Like he means to put your broken pieces back together so he can fix you. “Ye didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”

“But what if I did?” You ask, exasperated, arms stretching wide as a hiccup fights its way up your throat. “He said so himself: ‘why are you denying me when you’re dressed like a slut? It’s like you’re asking for it!’ So what if I was? Asking for it? What if I had dressed–..”

“No!” Kid walks forward, his hands cupping your face so you finally look at him. “Ye weren’t asking for anythin’. If he can’t keep it in his pants, that’s on him. Not ye.” Kid nearly growls, you can almost feel the anger seething through his pores. It’s almost as if he’s weighing getting back on the bike and finding your date to hurt him. 

You step back, breaking contact again. “But what if I froze, Kid? What if I didn’t have it in me to punch him? To push him? It all happened so fast… I could’ve done something different, I–...”

“Ye did what ye had to do. Yer strong as fuck, and ye showed him that. I don’t think that nose is ever gonna heal straight.” Kid cocks his head and shoves your shoulder playfully, trying to distract you. “Ye got a mean hook.”

A semblance of a laugh leaves your lips, and you turn your hand into a fist, swinging it in the air. “Yeah, I know. I locked it all the way back like this, and then… Bam! Right on the nose!” You swing straight for Kid, trying to alleviate the tension.

He barks a laugh and grabs your wrist mid-air, stopping your swing. “So strong, lass. If I were a fly, I’d be dead right now.” You chuckle, and some of the dread from before leaves your chest. Kid’s eyes fall on your bruised knuckles, and they soften. “It was a shite situation ye were put in. It was not yer fault. There was nothin’ ye could’ve done different, got it?” He gently kisses your knuckles before caressing them with his thumb.

“I just… I… God, this is so stupid.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m lonely, Kid. It’s stupid, and I know it. I don’t need a man to be fulfilled, but I am. I’m lonely.” Shaking your head, you remove your hand from his grip and hide your face in your hands. 

“Lonely?” Kid repeats your words, his voice rougher again. “What do ye mean? Ye got me, aye?”

Your laugh strikes suddenly, mirthful at first, then simmering down to a resigned smile. “That’s what you said. You told me I didn’t even need to leave the building if I wanted company.”

He smirks and takes a step closer to you. “Exactly. But I didn’t mean it like ye don’t deserve the world, lass. I meant it like… like I can be the one to give ye that world, if ye let me.” His cheeks flush a bit red, his voice is still rough, but his eyes are filled with gentleness.

Your gaze meets his again, and you blink several times. He’s looking at you like nothing else matters in the world. Almost as if you and he are the only important thing happening right now and you have the distinct feeling that if there were a war raging around you, you would still be the only thing that mattered to him. 

“Tell me, lass. What if I kissed ye right now, hm?” His hands grab yours, his calloused thumb tracing circles on your knuckles. “Would ye stop me?”

What?

Your chest heaves with heavy breaths as your heart hammers away. You don’t want to stop him at all. You want him. You’ve wanted him for a while, and your tired brain tells you that maybe that’s why none of your dates worked. Because, unconsciously, they were not the ones your heart and body craved.

Your eyes soften as you take another step closer to Kid. “Why don’t you give it a try?” The whispered words are a promise of compliance, and Kid lets out a shaky growl before leaning down and taking your lips in his. His hand finds your neck, and he entwines his fingers through your locks, his mouth claiming yours as his other hand finds your waist and pulls you closer.

You sigh into the kiss, clenching his shirt with your hands, moulding yourself into his body like he’s your lifeline. This is all you’ve ever wanted, and you can’t even begin to fathom why you thought this was crossing a line. 

Breathless, you both pull back while Kid’s hands cup your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. “Kid… I want more.” You plead, your nails digging into his muscular chest.

“Ye sure, lass?” The roughness in his voice tells you he’s as overwhelmed as you are. “Because if I start, I’m not gonna want to stop.”

The words make your stomach flip, and you grin, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer to you. “I don’t want you to stop.” Then his lips are on yours again. The kiss is more urgent, fiery, and hungry. His hands roam your sides, settling on your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. He pulls back a smidge, breaths still mingling as he kisses his way down your jawline, his hand settling on your neck and tilting it to the side for better access. 

“All this time watchin’ ye leave the apartment to go on dates with losers.” Kid nibbles your neck and sucks, pulling a mewl from your lips. “Knowin’ they’d never treat ye right, like ye deserve. None of them knew what a gem ye are.” Another lick and bite on the curve of your neck makes you gasp and roll your eyes, your arms wandering up and holding Kid by his neck.

With a quick pull, Kid lifts you off the ground, and you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling your dress ride up with the action, not caring one bit. He backtracks you to the bike and sets you sideways on the seat. As you fix your stare on his fiery eyes, all you can see is hunger and devotion, and that sends a thrill through your spine.

“I only want you, Kid.” You pull him down again, allowing him to take your tongue in his with languid strokes of passion. His fingers trace your collarbone and slither beneath the jacket to your shoulders. With a tug, he pulls the jacket off, and you shimmy out of the fabric, leaving your arms bare for him to caress. 

“Damn right. I know how to treat ye right. Ye’ll see. Fuckin’ losers. Night after night, agonisin’ when ye’d choose one to be yer boyfriend.” He growls near your ear, his fingers never stopping their silent worship on your body, lighting fires with each stroke and igniting a heat between your thighs that starts to demand attention. He pulls back for a moment, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting it up so you can meet his eyes through the fog of desire that clouds them. 

“Five.”

“What?” You ask, still dazed, your body tingling from all the kisses and touches he’s laying on you.

“I watched ye go out with five losers this month alone.” Five? You can barely remember three, that’s how unmemorable they were. Kid leans in, brushing your ear with his lips, his other hand travelling to your nipple and toying with it through the fabric, making you suck in a breath. “That’s how many times ye’ll come for me tonight, lass. To make sure ye forget those losers.”

Five times?

“Kid, I–...” You begin, but he cuts your rambling with another soul-shattering kiss, his hands plucking your breast from the confines of your skimpy dress and fully groping it. Instinctively, you buck your hips against him, trying to grind him or feel some friction, anything. 

“Calm down, lass. We have plenty of time. I’m not gonna rush anythin’. I told ye, I’m gonna treat ye right.” He lowers his lips, tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbone, and then he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and twirling it against his teeth, pulling a deep moan from your lips. “Fuck, ye sound better than I ever imagined.”

Kid lets go of you and climbs onto the seat of the bike. You’re about to turn to him, but he turns you around, making you face the handles of the bike, your back flush against his chest. Then he spreads your legs open, placing them over his thighs. You shiver when the cold wind hits your sensitive spot, your panties already soaked through. “Lean back, lass.” 

Breathing faster and faster from anticipation, you melt against him, feeling his taut muscles ripple against your back. Your dress has ridden all the way to your hips, baring your legs to him and leaving you exposed. Kid uses one hand to tease your nipple while still kissing your neck and the curve of your shoulder. Then his other hand, traces the inside of your thigh, creeping closer to your core, making you gasp and hold your breath in want and need. 

“Kid!” Your plea is evident, but you know he’s going to take his time with you. Everything about the situation has you on edge already. The powerful feel of his bike beneath you, his strong muscular frame enveloping you, his fingers hovering just near your entrance.

“So perfect, look at ye. See how well ye fit against me? Like ye were made just for me?” His fingers trace your slit over the panties, testing and teasing. “See? All wet and ready for what I have to give to ye. I can be all ye ever want, lass. Just let me.”

“Yes, Kid, please. I want you to.” His scent is intoxicating. It clings to you like a second skin, enveloping you in safety, warmth, and so much desire. 

With a desperate grunt, Kid shifts your panties and plunges one digit inside your slit, turning your plea into a wanton moan as you arch your back, your hands finding purchase against his muscular thighs. 

“So wet for me. Look at ye. I want to hear you scream my name, lass. Every time I make you come, yer gonna scream my name. Yer mine now. I’m never gonna let ye go.” He inserts another finger, his palm stroking and pressing your clit, and damn it if you’re not just there at the edge, ready to come undone for him. “It’s like I’ve known yer body all my life. I know how to make ye feel good, aye?”

“Yes, Kid, yes!” Your head lolls back as you mewl, his ministrations making your head spin, turning you into a puddle of mush. With a few more strokes, he pushes you over and you gasp out his name, blinding pleasure coursing through your veins, turning your vision white.

“That’s one.” He whispers against your ear, and then he doesn’t relent, his fingers keep pulling pleasure, pressing on your G-spot with his rough fingertips, turning the smaller waves of dissipating pleasure into something else, something more.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You start chanting as a surge of bliss travels up your spine, tingling, igniting, burning.

“Wrong name, lass.”

“Kid! Kid!” You scream as your release topples over the previous one, briefer but more pleasurable. 

“Two.” Kid removes his fingers from your core, leaving you panting for air as you lie, burning against him, all the previous cold of the night vanishing from your thoughts. He gets up from the bike, unbuckling his belt and taking out his massive cock. Instinctively, you bite your lower lip. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything real down there, and he’s bigger than your average toy.

“Satisfied?” He asks with a grin.

“I’m sure I will be.” You answer him back, earning a barking laugh.

“Turn on the seat, lass.” You do as he says, and Kid sits back down where he was, pulling your legs over his so you wrap them around his waist. “I hope ye don’t love yer panties too much.” You don’t even have time to question his sentence when he rips your panties off of you, making you gasp as another surge of heat courses through you. “Fuck, yer so perfect.”

You sigh and let your fingers trace the muscles of his abs over his shirt. Then your hand goes lower as you take his pulsating, veiny cock in your hands. You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight. Kid grunts and lets you pump him a few times until a bit of pre-cum starts leaking through the top. 

“Aye, aye, enough, lass. Tonight’s about yer pleasure.” Kid gently removes your hand from his cock as he takes your lips in another fiery kiss, bringing you closer to him until you can feel him pressed against your thigh. “I’ve wanted ye since I saw ye. Since the day I helped ye move yer things into yer flat, I knew ye were the one for me.”

You can see the truthfulness in his eyes, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen in him. His fingers trace every curve of your face and jaw, and his eyes follow, as if he’s memorising all of you, soaking you in. His lips go in after, kissing you, worshipping every inch of you like a revered acolyte.

“Yer all I’ve ever wanted. Yer too perfect.” His hands find purchase under your thighs as he pulls you into him, sinking slowly into you. The stretch of his cock inside of you stings and burns, so you wrap yourself tighter around him, your face buried in the crook of his neck as his hands snake up your spine, cradling your neck. “There ye go. Slowly, we got time, lass. I’ve been dreamin’ of this since we met.”

He keeps pushing slowly into you until he’s fully sheathed. You take small breaths to accommodate him, but the sting of the stretch is long gone. The burn that you’re met with demands something very different now. “Show me, Kid. Show me how much we belong together.” You whisper into his ear, and then leave a trail of kisses down to his lips, shifting your hips slightly, showing him you’re ready.

“Ye have no idea what ye do to me. Ye drive me wild.” He leans his forehead against yours and starts to thrust lazily into you. You can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock touching your walls, rubbing them, igniting flames of pleasure inside you.

“Kid…” You moan out his name, pleasure mounting already as every thrust hits a perfect spot.

“Took me long enough to say it, lass. Took me too long. I didn’t know if ye wanted me back. Thought I was friend-zoned. Fuck, yer tight.” You thread your fingers through his hair, every movement making you dizzier as he keeps kissing your body, touching every curve and dip as if he’s committing all of you to his touch, to his memory.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this is happenin’. I’m afraid I’ll wake up alone again in my bed.” Kid grunts and thrusts a bit harder, making you topple over the edge you’ve been playing at with a loud cry of his name. Your walls squeeze him tighter as your bliss washes through you in waves. “Three. Fuck.”

The chill of the night has nothing on both of you. You can feel little droplets of sweat running down your spine, and Kid’s forehead is damp with effort. 

“Yer mine now. Tell me ye’ll no longer go after fuckin’ losers. Say ye’ll want only me.” You nod, back arching into him, seeking more pleasure as his reverent touches and devoted words wrap a fog of lust and love around you. You feel overwhelmed with emotion. You had no idea that Kid felt like this over you. “I need to hear it, lass.” He seems desperate to know you want him, so you force a thought to materialise in the form of words.

“I’m yours, all yours. Forever, Kid.” That snaps something in him, and he wraps your waist, both feet planted firmly on the ground to keep steady. With a flick of his wrist, he turns on the bike and revs the engine, making it vibrate and purr under you, adding another layer of stimulation to your already stimulated self. With two harsh thrusts - a contrast to his steady, languid previous ones - you shatter again with another long cry of his name.

“Four. One more, lass. We’ll take this one together, aye?” You can barely think straight. Every nerve is tingling with pleasure, every bone is quivering with want, and every muscle is aching with release. 

“Kid… Kid…” You can barely utter a single word. Kid kisses your forehead softly, his hand pressing gentle circles on your back before he revs the engine again. You moan and clutch his shirt, barely able to stand straight as his thrusts become faster, harder, and more relentless. 

“I’ll be all ye’ve ever wanted, all ye’ve ever needed. I’ll make ye feel good every day, ye’ll never feel lonely with me, lass. Yer mine, all mine, aye?” You nod once more as he guides your body back, and you feel the cold metal of the bike against your spine. The new angle makes him repeatedly hit your G-spot, and you know you’ll unravel fast.

“Kid, I’m gonna come.” You manage to breathe out between pants and moans, and you have no idea how much strength you still have left. Though Kid seems to have stamina that goes on for days, you’re already feeling overstimulated.

His thrusts are more erratic, his breath coming in short puffs of air. “Aye, aye, lass. I’m right there with ye.” And as you arch your back against the motorcycle, already losing yourself to a wave of ecstasy, Kid leans forward, letting out a primal grunt against your ear, and unloading his seed inside you, filling you up as your eyes water with bliss. 

The gentle purr of the bike beneath you and the harsh breaths leaving your lips are the only things disturbing the silence of the night. Threading your fingers through Kid’s hair, you can’t stop smiling, even though your muscles are already aching and complaining. 

He’s still inside you when he raises his head, wicked grin in place and a slight flush to his cheeks. “See how much fun we could’ve been having, lass?” You let out a loud laugh, and he grumbles against your neck, pulling out with a groan. “Want to get me goin’ again? Don’t laugh like that while I’m balls deep. All that tightenin’ gets me wild.”

He keeps kissing your neck and collarbone softly as you laugh, his hands gently massaging your thighs.

“I didn’t know, Kid.” You whisper, your back still pressed against the motorcycle, feeling empowered by the machine beneath you and the man above you instead of feeling trapped. “I had no idea you felt like this, you never said anything.”

“I know. I should’ve said it.” His groan vibrates against your chest. “Maybe it would've saved me the trouble of seein’ ye with assholes.”

“Yes, Kid. It really would. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, even though I thought about it.” 

Kid lifts himself up and you use his shoulders to return to a seated position as he adjusts the straps of your dress. “Ye have? Ye thought about us?” You nod. “Doin’ this?”

You chuckle as you’re assaulted by a lone shiver. Now that you both have stopped, you’re getting cold. “Not exactly this. I don’t think you ever pulled five orgasms out of me in my fantasies.”

Kid’s wicked grin brings you another kind of shiver, but this one has nothing to do with the cold. “Lass, ye’ve been selling yerself short in yer fantasies. Five is just the warm-up.”

As you laugh into his fiery kiss, his hands pull you closer to him, claiming you, worshipping you. And despite the shitty beginning of a shitty night, you couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Turns out, you really didn’t need to leave the apartment. 

But as Kid revs the engine of his Harley again, you realise you’re glad you did.

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